Unknotted

Punishment and Cowards

Rokan

I hobbled out of the capsule into a portal station in Lothny Creek. My entire face throbbed, especially my nose, which I suspected was broken. It had taken an entire tide to convince it to stop bleeding. New bruises layered the day-old ones. Then there were my mangled arm and ankle from my run-ins with Travers. Tydeus had bound those wounds, but they had bled through the bandages. The staff would have to bleach the capsule to clean up the droplets left in my wake.

I swayed on my feet, but Tydues’s hand on my shoulder kept me upright. I wanted to sleep; I hadn’t slept much since that blasted woman had entered my life.

When my feet touched Keadan territory, I breathed a sigh of relief. The warmth of magic greeted me. I gulped it in, first staunching the bleeding from my arm and ankle. I had barely done that when the magic was ripped away, not by the changing of the tides, but by a hybrid of greater dominance. Ultra Metallia, no doubt.

Ignoring the frightened stares of travelers that followed me, I stormed—limped—my way to the exit. “How is it you’re the one tortured and I’m the one that looks like poorly butchered meat?”

Tydeus had left the encounter with only a little bruising and a minor cut on his neck. He casted me a sidelong glance, one filled with worry. “My captors were either inept or not the torturing type.”

“Which are they?”

“Both. They weren’t willing to do what was necessary to accomplish the job they set out to do. I don’t think your pragmora is the bloodthirsty type.”

“Not my pragmora.” I winced from the pain my words caused my face. “I bet the Broshots would disagree. How many died in their attacks on the factories?”

Tydeus shook his head, long dreads falling over his shoulder. “How much can we trust their word though? While I fully believe she did attack the factories—she admitted as much—I struggle to believe she planned to harm anyone.”

“Collateral damage,” I reasoned. We slipped around troll security toward the staff entrance. “There’s some in every mission.” A fact that had bothered me from my first mission and still does. Tydeus and Glark had told me to accept the painful truth. For the most part, I had learned to swallow that bitter tonic.

“I can’t believe that is an acceptable price to our target. Not after speaking with her. She had every reason to torture me for information, or even just kill me, but she didn’t.”

“Didn’t have the opportunity, you mean. She had a knife to your throat and was—”

“Never going to use it. I have looked in the eyes of enough killers to spot when they mean to draw blood. The only reason she did was because you startled her.”

“You’re blaming me for that nick?” I gaped. “How about you’re welcome for saving you?”

Tydeus’s face remained impassive. “She would have released me eventually.”

“So confident about that…”

His answer was an inscrutable expression.

We shuffled outside to the staff parking lot. Chet pushed away from where he leaned against a black SUV. “You look like death, man. What happened? After you turned onto the street, I lost visual. The Zalicans must have figured out I had tapped into their system.” He hooked my arm across his shoulders and help Tydeus keep me from collapsing. “Is Metallia still not letting you heal?”

“Nah, I think I look better this way.”

Chet snorted. “Look who’s found his sense of humor. If it puts you in a laughing mood, you should have your face smashed in more often.” His smile quickly dissipated. “Metallia want us to report to the camp.”

My eyes screwed shut and dread iced through my tired and battered muscles. “So long as she doesn’t hit me in the face…”

“Yeah, I can hardly recognize you.” Chet glanced my way and cringed, the movement a little over the top.

“I don’t look that bad,” I said as they helped me to the SUV. I caught my reflection in the tinted glass and cringed too. I really did look that bad. I flopped into the backseat, trying not to be annoyed that Tydeus and Chet remained beside me until I was buckled in. “I’m fine,” I grumbled.

“Sure, you are.” Chet offered a forced smile before shutting the door and climbing into the driver seat, Tydeus into the passenger seat.

We rode in silence, the city lights flashing past the car, until we hit the highway on the way to the camp. With the unbruised corner of my head resting on the glass, I had hoped to snag a few minutes of sleep. Instead, Topaz’s words tromped through my mind. I had heard of the Shadow Markets before, who hadn’t? It popped up in nearly every action film. But that was it. Some made up concept to entertain the masses. Not some real-life operation.

As if Tydeus was considering Topaz’s words too, he asked, “Do you believe in the Shadow Markets?” His eyes were trained on Chet.

Through the rearview mirror, I saw his brows pinch, then one quirk upward. “Shadow Markets? Are you kidding me?”

Tydeus answered with motionless silence.

I leaned between the front seats. “Do you think that woman was speaking the truth about hybrids being sold in the Shadow Markets?”

“Why would she lie?” Tydeus asked.

“Because she’s a tad crazy,” Chet said dismissively. “Are you both guzzling a mind-altering potion or something?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I scowled, earning myself more pain.

“Ever since you ran into that girl you’ve been a bit—” He circled a finger over his ear and whistled like a cuckoo clock. “It’s obvious she has done something to you. Shadow Markets might be an action flick trope, but potions aren’t. You should really have more than your broken face checked out when we arrive back at camp.”

I reclined back in the seat. “If Metallia doesn’t kill me first.”

(Chapter continues in part 2)