Raze the Night (Nightstar Book 2)

Fennrin wasn’t certain what woke him up in the middle of the night exactly, but he didn’t want to leave Ain and go investigate in the least. Despite sleeping on their rather uncomfortable bedrolls, Fennrin couldn’t think of a more pleasant place than laying in the lightweaver’s arms.

But then he heard a strange noise and a quiet thud. That was odd.

Despite his absolutely hatred of the idea, Fennrin untangled himself from Ainreth’s arms, getting up and stretching, yawning a little as he stuck his head out of the tent and into the chilly night. He couldn’t see anything strange, though. Aside from the fact that there was no one standing guard anywhere near their tent.

Despite Fennrin’s presence now, someone was always guarding Ain because his powers didn’t work during the night much. So where were they?

Frowning, Fennrin stepped outside, shivering a little at the change of temperature, slowly and quietly walking in one direction, looking around tents, but he couldn’t see anyone anywhere. At all. That itself was strange as well. He wasn’t usually up during this time, but surely someone should be around, watching out for their fellow soldiers.

But perhaps he was being paranoid. He hadn’t actually seen anything that would suggest something was going on, and also he was only half awake. He yawned again, then, as if to confirm that fact as he turned around. He was probably worrying over nothing.

At least that was what he thought until he turned around, only to see a hooded figure, definitely not a Lys-Akkarian soldier, standing two tents away from Fennrin, some kind of small tube held to their mouth.

Fennrin only managed to yell Ainreth name before that same strange sound he’d heard before hit his ears, something pricking at his skin. He tried to turn into a shadow, but his head started spinning too much to focus on anything, his gaze lowering to his arm where some kind of dart was sticking out.

He almost fell to the ground as his vision darkened, stopped only by someone grabbing him from behind, a hand clamping over his mouth as Fennrin tried to cry out again. The person who shot him with the dart came running, grabbing Fennrin’s ankles and them and their accomplice started carrying Fennrin away, running.

He wanted to fight back, kick them, anything, but he couldn’t move his limbs an inch, and soon, he couldn’t even keep his eyes open, whatever they’d drugged him with too strong to fight off. He tried to focus on what they were muttering to each other to stay awake, but he couldn’t even tell if they were speaking Orinovan or Akkarian, their words jumbled.

And soon enough, he lost his battle to stay awake, with his last though being of Ain and how worried and upset he was going to be by this.

When Fennrin came to, he groaned, his head throbbing. Had he and Ain drunk too much last night? If so, they needed to have a talk about this.

But wait. The ground was so much harder than it should be. And he was cold, Ainreth’s arms not wrapped around him as usual. And his own arms were cramping, stuck at a strange angle, his mouth so very dry.

Despite his headache, Fennrin forced his eyes open, only to let out a muffled cry when he saw the kapetan of the Orinovan army staring down at him. Fennrin immediately tried to turn into a shadow, but when he tried to move his fingers, he found out his hands had been clamped, his wrists tied together behind his back tightly with rope, and his efforts to get up fell through the moment he noticed his ankles and knees had been tied together, as well.

“At last you wake up,” the kapetan said, staring down at him with such cold eyes it made Fennrin want to try to get away, despite how tied up he was. He tried to ask what the man wanted with him, even though he was sure the answer would be obvious, but he was stopped by the rag that had been shoved in his mouth.

Oh, so that was why his mouth felt so dry.

Fennrin took a quick glance around, noting that he was lying down on the ground, grass all around him. And it was still night, so not that much time must have passed.

“Not so formidable now that you are powerless, are you?” Oretski asked in such a flat, toneless way that Fennrin wasn’t even sure if he was being mocked, or if the kapetan was simply stating a fact.

Fennrin attempted a glare, but he was terrified, his heart beating erratically in his chest, knowing that if Oretski wanted to, he could kill him right here and now. But he hadn’t yet. Perhaps he was planning on torturing him for information first? Though likely not in this field.

That thought brought no comfort to Fennrin because he was sure he would be very easy to convince to talk. He’d never been in a position like this, and it was terrifying.

He tried to flinch away when the kapetan leaned down, expecting him to hit him, but he just grabbed the rag and yanked it out of his mouth. “Do you know how many of us you’ve personally killed, Notsisyku?”

Fennrin didn’t reply immediately, not sure if Oretski was expecting an answer, but as the silence dragged and the man’s glare deepened, Fennrin found his voice, his eyes trained on the ground. “Hundreds.”

“Prisnye. Hundreds,” Oretski hissed, cold anger in his voice. “Whatever kralevna decides to do with you, whatever experimentation you will be put through, you deserve it and more.”

Fennrin wanted to point out that if Orinovo hadn’t tried attacking them, none of this would have happened, but he was too afraid. Especially after experimentation being mentioned. “E-experimentation?”

Oretski’s gaze darkened as he cruelly smirked down at Fennrin. “You will be studied. Picked apart in order to learn how an abomination like you works. I hear it is not pleasant.”

“Abomination?” Fennrin repeats with outrage. He knew that Orinovo saw the az-ari as wrong and unnatural, but it was something else to hear it from someone like Oretski. “You experimented on yourself to gain our powers.”

The kapetan crouched down, grabbing Fennrin by the hair and yanking him up, making him hiss. “I became like one of you, an insult to nature, in service of my country. I know very well what I am. And it is a price I am willing to pay.”

He drew his sword, putting it against Fennrin’s throat, making him freeze and swallow thickly, his heart hammering in his chest as the tip of it poked at his throat.

“What are your latest orders now that you took what you see as yours?” Oretski asked, his voice cold and even. “Or does Lys-Akkaria’s attack dog not get to hear them?”

Fennrin gritted his teeth, hating that such clear provocation worked to rile him up. Because it hurt hearing it. That was what he was, wasn’t it? He didn’t make decisions, and he was certainly not respected as a soldier because he wasn’t one. His role was helping equip soldiers with Ainreth and killing as many Orinovan soldiers as was necessary to get them to fall back.

But that was okay. He was comfortable in that role. He shouldn’t feel bad about it, should he?

“I won’t tell you anything,” said Fennrin finally, managing to keep his voice from wavering for the most part. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to do much to deter Oretski, who if anything looked like he was pitying him.

“You will tell us everything eventually,” the kapetan said flatly, not even sounding happy about it as he pressed the sword against Fennrin’s throat harder for a moment before pulling it away and sheathing it as he straightened up. “Look at yourself. You are but a child given too much power.”

Fennrin wanted to snap at him that not only was he not a child, but also that Oretski himself didn’t look that much older, clearly in his early thirties at most, but he couldn’t get a word out, as if his voice had left him when the sword did.

“And that power is only being used by those around you. I do not imagine you wanted to be here, did you?”

Fennrin once again wanted to protest, but he couldn’t exactly disagree. He did want to help, but it hadn’t been his idea to come here. He simply wanted to be useful. And he clearly was.

“And what about the fact that our dear comrade, general Tyr-Naralyn, seems to have taken such quick liking to you?”

Finally, that was too much for Fennrin’s fear to hold him back from responding to. “Leave Ainreth be!”

Oretski sighed, rolling his eyes a bit. “Yes, unfortunately, I will have to do so for now. We planned on taking him as well, but you just had to wake up, didn’t you?”

Fennrin let out a small breath, happy that he’d at least done something right by yelling Ainreth’s name. If it had prevented Ain from being taken as well, at least that was something he could cling onto. At least he’d protected him in some way, even though he was sure Ainreth was already looking for him, probably not being careful at all.

Fennrin’s beautiful fool.

“Do you honestly believe that slut decided to completely change his ways and fell in love at first sight with you? Life isn’t a fairytale, shadowforger.”

Fennrin’s heart gave another lurch at the implication that Ainreth might just be with him for his power, but he immediately rejected that notion. That was ridiculous. Ainreth did love him and he loved Ainreth, and that was that.

“You seem very focused on Ainreth,” Fennrin said with a scowl, deciding to turn this on Oretski. “I wonder why.”

The kapetan paused, his eyes surprised for a moment before he managed to hide it, but Fennrin had caught it. He half expected if Oretski would hit him now, but the man stayed calm, at least outwardly.

“He is the personification of everything I am fighting against. The national hero of my enemies, a freak of nature that could burn us all if he wanted. Of course I am focused on him,” the kapetan replied coldly, glaring. But somehow that did nothing to deter Fennrin. He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly feeling brave, but he was.

“Ain told me about your rivalry,” said Fennrin with a smirk, though he still felt weak and afraid deep down. “He said he only recently managed to memorize your name.”

Oretski put on a very fake smile, though Fennrin could see a flash of anger in his eyes. So it did bother him that Ainreth didn’t care about him at all. Though Fennrin wasn’t sure if it was smart to provoke him, even if it did distract him.

“Tyr-Naralyn is a self-obsessed egoist. I’m surprised he remembers your name.”

Fennrin glared at him. What Oretski was saying was completely wrong—Ain cared a lot when he let someone close, he was just very selective in who that someone was—but Fennrin didn’t like him talking about his Ainreth like this.

“I must say, you are very disappointing,” the kapetan said, actually sounding like he meant it, his lips pressed into a thin, displeased line. “I didn’t realize you were so young. Or seemingly sane. I’ll make sure we show you off when we get to Diramisk. Seeing how pathetic you are without your power should improve morale.”

Diramisk? But that was on the other side of Orinovo. How was Oretski planning on getting him there when they were in the middle of some field somewhere, without a horse?

And that was when Fennrin remembered—Oretski was a windwalker. He could fly.

His eyes wide, Fennrin wanted to distract him, say something that would put off the inevitable because how could he hope to be rescued when in the air? How could Ainreth find him or track him down?

But before he could manage to say anything, Oretski was yanking his mouth open, stuffing the rag back inside, turning Fennrin’s protests into soft, muffled noises. The kapetan brought out a pair of goggles from the satchel hanging off his belt, pulling them on before grabbing Fennrin and throwing him over his shoulder, keeping one arm over his back. Fennrin squirmed, or at least attempted to, but there was no getting away.

“Now, we are going to take a flight together,” Oretski said flatly. “I suggest you don’t do anything to distract me. Not falling is in your best interest, too.”

Fennrin couldn’t even yell in surprise with the gag in his mouth when the kapetan stretched his hand and suddenly they were being propelled into the air at a speed that made Fennrin want to whimper in primal fear, wind whipping his face.

Fennrin squeezed his eyes shut, feeling like he would vomit otherwise at the sight of being so far above ground, getting higher and higher. Tears of hopelessness pricked at his eyes, not help but the chuckle Oretski produced, clearly amused at Fennrin cowardice.

But Fennrin couldn’t make himself care, not when faced with everything else.

How was Ain going to find him now?