While Waiting to Wake

“I wish it were that easy,” the man fumed. “If I could kill every last one of you bugs who throw your devotion to the undeserving, I would. I’d drag you down to hell and use you for pillows and foot rests.”

He grabbed her chin again. This time she felt claws prick her skin and something wet trickle down her throat.

Did he cut her?

Loki!

Something flashed and they both looked in that direction. It was like the moon, the light dull. But somehow… brighter and whiter than the moon. It wasn’t the sight of the light that was brighter but the feel of it.

Like… like flashing pure hope.

It flashed again.

“Ah. It looks like my time is almost up. I’ll just leave you with a little warning, bug.”

The man let go of her chin with a shove and took a step back. Em saw a black thing come out of the smoky darkness and circle the man’s leg. It gave her a white stare that drew her attention even though she knew, she knew, the man was the more dangerous one.

“If you interfere with my plans, bug, I’ll personally greet your soul and drag it to hell at your death. And believe me, I can make your torment worse than brimstone.”

Suddenly, he was gone.

Actually, all of it suddenly vanished as light flashed through and ate at the smoky darkness. Some of the darkness condensed into floating blackish balls, which zipped away from her like cockroaches.

Death orbs.

She barely had time to process that when someone picked her up.

The young woman held her like she was three, her legs wrapped around the woman’s waist and her arms around her neck. The woman murmured soothingly as other people scattered and chased the death orbs away with… wreaths?

“Shh, shh, love. We’ve got you. We’ve got you.”

Em’s sobs returned and she clung to the woman desperately. Hiding her face in her savior’s neck.

“Sherrie?” one of the men called.

“Can’t you hear her? She’s fine. Traumatized but fine. Let’s get her back to the hut.”

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

Mister Ben, Em identified dully. Watching the man pace in front of the hearth, his rage in every step.

“I’m so-so-sor-”

She couldn’t say the whole thing. Her bottom lip and chin trembled too much.

“Enough, Ben,” Sherrie snapped. She still held Em, but now she was sitting comfortably in a rocking chair. “Yelling at her won’t help.”

The man cursed and sat down on a wobbly stool. Rubbing his forehead.

Mister Jay came in from outside. He'd just sent most of the other people away.

From the sound of it, they'd had some sort of meeting before going to work. What was it now? Four? Maybe five in the morning?

“I n-need to get back,” she stuttered. She tried to get off of Sherrie’s lap but the woman held on harder. “I need- before Flint -”

Ben cursed again.

“Just what we need! That human-”

He cut himself off. Glowering at Em. Who shrunk back against Sherrie.

Jay, used to children, calmly came back from the side of the room where the ‘kitchen’ was.

“Eat this.”

“Wh-what is-”

He popped something into Em’s mouth.

She flinched. Then she slowly rolled the thing around with her tongue.

Tasting the sweetness of a cube of honey.

“That'll give you some energy. Breathe.”

Without another chair to sit on, Jay sat on the ground in front of the rocking chair and smiled up at Em.

“Now, why on earth were you out there alone in the middle of the night?”

Em wiped her eyes.

It didn't take much to explain. And Em thought she was being relatively calm. But Sherrie felt her shaking and tears kept leaking out.

“Have-have you seen my slime?”

The men had been absorbing with incredulity the fact that she'd been looking for them, so her question took them by surprise.

“Your what?”

“Slime?”

Feeling a little calmer, Em sat up straighter, holding Sherrie's arm a little more tightly than intended.

“My slime, Loki. He's my pet. Did you see him out there?”

The adults looked at each other. Their expressions were a mix of confusion and amusement.

“I'm afraid not,” said Jay

Ben stood up.

“Enough. The girl is right, she needs to get back before they notice she's gone.” He gritted his teeth. “I'll bet that bastard would fly off if he finds his precious sister missing.”

Em’s jaw stiffened.

This time Sherrie wasn’t prepared for how quickly Em got off her lap and faced Ben. Hands on hips.

“Excuse me!”

Ben ignored her, talking to Jay.

“I'm the fastest. I can get her back in ten minutes.”

“The flight might be traumatic for her.”

“We'll blindfold-”

“I said excuse me!” Em shouted. “Don't you dare call my brother a bastard! You have no idea how hard he's working to keep everyone in the March safe. Including the Lycan!”

As though under a spell, the adults fell silent. Too stunned to immediately react.

“If my brother’s a bastard, it’s because he doesn’t put up with shit! Not yours and not anyone else’s! Do you know how long he works every single day? I’ve seen the damn reports! He’s fighting monsters, doing stupid things like the accounting, and he’s doing his best to oust the stupid people that mean Thiago keeps sending. Last week he even stopped smugglers stealing lycan babies!”

Her rage felt like it was rolling off of her.

Fear and terror were completely forgotten.

“And he’s doing it all on almost no budget. And you sit there calling him a bastard?! How dare you!”

For a long moment, there was no sound except for Em’s huffing. She had no more words, but she felt like she’d run a mile without a break and at high speed. Her head pounded and her hands shook.

Abruptly, she spun away from them.

“I’m going back by myself,” she declared over her shoulder.

Of course, they didn’t allow that. She was aware of them following her. But now there were some lights lit at the main house. Probably in the kitchens, where they’d be preparing bread or something for the day.

With the moon now down, those lights were all that was guiding her.

She wiped furious tears away. Half wishing she was big enough to give those stupid lycan a decent pounding.

And half aware that one of them, maybe all three of them, were following her.

Abruptly, one of them picked her up. She knew it was one of the men by the height. She struggled then changed tactics as they abruptly lifted off the ground. With a squeak, she grabbed him around the neck and squeezed her eyelids shut.

The flight really did only take a few minutes.

By the time Ben landed, Em was so exhausted from all the emotional turbulence that she wobbled when he set her down.

She looked up at him.

For a second, neither said anything.

“Did you find Prince yet?”

Even to her, her voice sounded dead. Completely devoid of emotion. Except maybe the scratchiness of crying and yelling.

“No.”

She wiped an eye. Even though it was now dry and so swollen it hurt to touch. Without another word, she nodded, turned, and left the man. Who just watched her go. Making sure she crawled back into her window alright.

His head pounding.

***

For him, the season was over.

Asher closed his eyes. Listening to an official announce who’d be moving onto the events at other arenas.

At first, he thought that every match was a ‘to the death’ fight.

It wasn’t.

The opponents could kill each other. No one would be faulted for it if they did. And they could get major points with the crowd, sponsors, and officials if they did.

But Asher found that even between the freemen and the slaves there was a sort of camaraderie that developed the longer they trained and fought each other. Not the kind of camaraderie where you could trust them to have your back. But a sort of truce that said, ‘If I don’t have to kill you, I won’t. And I expect the same courtesy.’

So there were more ‘losers’ who had to wait for the next season for a chance to win than he thought there would be.

Him included.

Of course, there were always exceptions. People everyone expected might break the truce.

At his final loss, he thought he’d die at Zaria’s hands. But for whatever reason, she’d suddenly decided he wasn’t worth killing and had walked away with the crowd pounding his eardrums.

He rubbed his leg.

As though it still hurt from the partial healing he received.

“The winners, pack your things. You’ll be leaving for Elyana tonight. The rest of you, go back to your schedules.”

Wearily, Asher stood up. Noting the way Zaria half bounced her way to her room, ecstatic with her advancement. He rolled his eyes and turned away.

Only to have someone grab his arm.

“Your mistress is upstairs,” the messenger hissed. “Get going.”

“Ugh.”

He clenched his fists at his sides then reluctantly changed directions.

Lady Arnold was where she always was when she visited. Sipping tea while the servants watched with blank faces from the edges of the room. One man had a handprint shaped red mark on his cheek.

Which told Asher all he needed to know about the woman’s mood.

Without prompting, he got to his knees next to the tea table. Bowing his head.

I am a prince of Wyngarde. I am a prince of Wyngarde.

The woman waited so long to acknowledge him that his feet started to feel numb. He flexed his toes.

Finally, done with her tea, she put it down.

“You lost.”

He didn’t answer.

“I’ve been investigating the sponsor. It wasn’t an individual but a guild with uncertain business dealings.”

She waited a heartbeat but Asher said nothing.

“When I pressed for why they were interfering, the answer they gave me was they’ve been looking for certain lycan characteristics. They don’t particularly care if you win or lose, just that you survive.”

Her tone turned amused.

“Because they have a client who wants pretty babies.”

Asher flinched and clenched his teeth.

I am a prince of Wyngarde.

The woman finally looked at him. Smiling in a way Asher would have called demonic as she withdrew something from her valise.

Three envelopes.

“I decided to stop pursuing my first deal. What the guild offered me to stop pushing for your death was far more valuable.”

Why are you telling me?

His hands twitched. Successfully, he kept them relaxed.

“There’s a catch, though. Their client wants proof that the product is alive and would preferably like to see it before its all marred up.”

“And what will this client do if I happen to win my freedom?”

It came out before he could stop it.

The woman laughed and Asher flinched.

“That won’t happen. And you won’t give up because you don’t want to die,” she said cheerfully. Tapping her knee with the envelopes and smiling brightly. “Now, follow Hans. You’ll be going with me to some very important events.”

She tapped the envelopes again meaningfully.

***

Em told Flint what happened. Leaving out that her real purpose had been to ask about Prince and telling him instead it was to see Laisha.

She’d never seen him so angry.

At least, not at her.

The only reason she told him was because of the death orbs. Her stupid conscience wouldn’t let her leave the area without making sure something was done about them.

He delayed their departure by a day so he, a few knights, and a priest could go searching for the source of the death orbs. And found them hovering over the unmarked grave of three unknown individuals.

The grave was new enough that it wasn’t from the war.

He left Carter in charge of investigating the deaths and left the reeve a day late.

During all of that, Em was grounded to her room. She wasn’t allowed even a toe outside the door. And to make sure she didn’t try sneaking out again, the window was padlocked.

It was a good thing the building was well insulated, keeping the coolness from the night before in. Otherwise it would have been a hot and miserable punishment.

Would Flint have been annoyed that she slept through most of it?

She didn’t know what happened to Loki until the next morning, when she sleepily got back onto the carriage. Where she found Loki’s basket waiting for her.

“Where did you find him?!”