Relinquish(2)

He anticipates my thoughts better than anyone I know, making him an excellent second-in-command. “Ready when you are.”

Tucking his pistols into the holsters at his hips, he throws himself onto his belly and begins wiggling forward through the mud, using powerful arms to pull himself through the high, sharp-edged weeds that have yet to die off from the frost.

I hate the mud, but not as much as I hate snow and ice. Winter battles are the worst. We stand to lose many lives this year on the plains to blizzards and dagger-tipped ice storms. Why couldn’t Drakon set up camp somewhere warm instead of hole up in this smelly swamp?

Under Kyan’s leadership, we’ve campaigned deep into new sectors of the land. We traveled from the mountains and swept down into the plains, where vicious winds can tear at a person with merciless rage. Long frigid hours spent camping in snowy wastelands is not my idea of a good time.

I miss the mountains. Miss the trees. I miss our home.

I haven’t been back to the caves. Eamon sided with Kyan against me, worried it would dredge up too many sensitive memories. I suppose a part of me agrees with them, but still I long to go back.

I follow only a few inches back from Carleon’s boots, trying my best to stay just far enough back to avoid the mud splatters. My stomach clenches at the smell of moist, decaying vegetation. It clings to my skin, a foul taste upon my tongue. I force myself not to think of what might live in the murky depths of the standing water all around me.

I can hear the men moving behind me and wonder how many of them will give their lives for our cause tonight.

I have to be on top of my game. This siege is a big one.

Word arrived through the rebel spy channels that Drakon was holed up somewhere in the Midwestern quadrant. Our entire camp braced, sure an attack was imminent, but nothing happened.

Confused by Drakon’s lack of initiative, Kyan sent out scouting troops. Several failed to return, probably never will, but one came back with the intel we have been waiting for: Drakon is here and he is looking for me.

Eamon wanted to send me back to the City to be placed under a squadron of our best warriors. Thankfully, Kyan saw this as an opportunity and now here I lie, wallowing in the marsh, as I move inch by agonizing inch toward my enemy.

A year has hardly been enough time to heal the wounds Drakon left behind. He unleashed something inside me that I didn’t know was possible. My powers have been volatile since our encounter atop the Shard. I anger swiftly and cry with annoying ease. I’m a bundle of emotions, none of which I welcome.

Carleon holds up his hand and I refocus, watching as clumps of brown sludge drip from his hand and elbows. A chain fence surrounds the fort, towering nearly ten feet above us. Its links have begun to rust; no doubt the frequent ice storms are increasing the speed of corruption. Spirals of jagged wire roll across the fence top, convincing me that I do not want to attempt a climb. Less than five feet beyond that stands a block wall twice the height of the fence and thick enough to repel a blast from a spider drone’s cannon.

I’m sure Drakon’s guards think their perimeter to be nearly impregnable. They might have been right if I were not leading this mission.

I can tell by watching the bursts of laser light against the wispy layers of cloud that the battle at the main gate is growing with intensity. Eamon is there fighting alongside my mentor Kyan and childhood friend Toren. They are the bait. While all eyes are focused forward, my job is to sneak in with a handful of men and bang on the back door.

Carleon listens to the muffled chatter in his earpiece and gives me the thumbs-up. My soldiers are in position. They will create a diversion, attacking the snipers along the top of the wall from the cover of the tree line below while Carleon and I slip by unnoticed.

I have only one mission: Find and torture Drakon. Well, perhaps I’m supposed to capture him first, but that’s just a technicality. My fun will come later.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

I blink, realizing that while lost to my thoughts, Carleon has cut a small hole through the fence with his laser gun and doubled back. I can see he is worried about me. He usually is. No doubt, Eamon has added extra pressure on his young shoulders to make sure I come out of this alive. My boyfriend can be quite the force to be reckoned with when he wants to be.

“I’m fine.” I offer my friend a smile that I’m sure in the full light of day would have betrayed my momentary doubt, but if he sees any hesitation, he doesn’t say so.

I raise my hands and concentrate, trying to ignore the way they begin to ache from the chilled water that soaks through. I remove the soggy gloves and toss them aside, waiting for the ripples of electricity to come.