Chapter 5

~~Otrera~~

Otrera looked down at herself, and sighed.

She was naked, laying down in the grass, and staring up at the moonlit sky. Her head rested upon the lap of a nymph that was combing her long black hair. Another nymph was massaging her legs and working her fingers into the tight muscles. They never said anything, the beautiful women touching her, but they smiled, and giggled — so they had voices at least — and traced her many scars with their fingertips. She had much darker skin than the typical Greek; perhaps they found the pink scar tissue on her dark skin interesting? Not a one of them had a scar, not Perseus or the nymphs.

The nymph combing her hair was a taller, curvy creature with heavy breasts that nudged against Otrera’s forehead every so often. The one who’d been having anal sex with Perseus only a couple hours ago was the one working her legs. The little woman had some strength to her, and Otrera groaned when her fingers managed to wear down the tightness in her quads. Her noises earned some more giggles, but she didn’t care, she was being pampered and gods damn it, she deserved some pampering.

Andromeda and Perseus were a good ways down the river. The hidden garden was large enough that anyone could have their privacy, and from what Otrera could hear, Andromeda was enjoying her privacy a lot. The water carried her husky moans along the river and around the Hesperides’ garden, enough so the nymphs smiled at each other, and more than once got a little frisky with Otrera’s body.

She let them. How many years had it been since a man or woman had touched her? Hard body, short, thin, lean, small breasts, she was a tiny warrior and that didn’t make for many sexual opportunities. Was it so much to ask for some sexual relief? After hearing the moans of Andromeda, it was starting to get to her too. A minute later, she reached up, took one of the busty nymph’s hands, and set it on Otrera’s breasts.

The nymph giggled, got the idea, and instead of combing the Amazon’s hair, started to massage her breasts with both hands. And Otrera melted into it. Hands, on her body, kneading her pert breasts and caressing her nipples in circles with thumbs. Fingertips teasing along their undersides. Gods, she needed—

“Otrera.”

Quirking a brow, she looked between the two nymphs. They smiled at her, but otherwise continued to caress and spoil her. Could have just been her mind?

“Otrera.”

No, definitely not her mind. She stood up, glanced around, and then looked at the nymphs. “Hear that?”

They shook their heads.

“This ... is your garden, right? If someone was here, you’d know?”

They nodded. Of course they’d know, they were nymphs, the Hesperides.

She frowned, reached down to pick up her scabbard, and started walking toward the noise. With a hand on the sword grip, ready to draw at a moment’s notice, she stepped into the garden with slow steps on bare feet.

It wasn’t that she didn’t realize she was investigating a mysterious voice whispering her name, alone, in the middle of the night, in a secret garden. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand how stupid she was being, going alone into the middle of the garden where the trees were dense, to pursue the voice the nymphs did not hear or sense. But...

“Otrera.”

But the voice called to her, like a shadowy caress on her spine. It danced on her skin, worked up her toes where they touched the soft grass, ran up along her naked body until it tingled on her neck. It was quiet whisper, and she could taste its depth, like smoke. Even smell it.

The moonlight broke a trace of light through the canopy. It glimmered along the golden apples of the center tree, and over the mask that sat upon the boulder next to it.

Like a scene straight out of a poem. She walked over to the boulder, naked as a bird, sheathed sword in hand, and a beam of moonlight shining down on both her, and the mask. The black mask, with its weird, swirling lines of silver. Eye-holes, a parted mouth, and a thick body of obsidian; not a material she recognized. She wanted to say rock or some weird metal, but neither rock nor metal could carry black that deep.

And the world came to a stop. The breeze silenced, the leaves stopped rustling, and all was quiet. Her breathing slowed, but each breath was shallow and hard. Cold, but not cold. Like a heavy fog pressed down on her, but she could not see or feel it. Like someone was covering her mouth with icy fingers. But a fool she was, and she took another step toward the mask.

“Otrera.” It spoke. Faint shimmers of white glowed from its eyes and mouth when the quiet voice slipped from its black frame.

“ ... who are you?”

It laughed, a dark and covered sound, like someone speaking from underneath layers of rock. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it fucking matters. You’re a mask.” She was whispering. She didn’t know why she was whispering, but it felt like the right thing to do. It’s not like what she was doing was wrong, or that it would matter if Perseus or Andromeda caught her; and yet, she whispered, like it was a dark, dirty secret. “Does Andromeda know you can talk?”

“No,” it said. Again, more laughter, raspy and layered. “Are you ... enjoying my gift?”

She froze. “Gift. Being a Fate’s Child?”

“Many lives ... to make, Amazon Queen. Do indulge,” it said. It talked well, for a mask, but its voice was smoke and death. The sort of voice she imagined the darkness held, when wolves and lions prowled within, hungry. A voice of teeth and bloodlust, harsh and filled with rasp, alongside deep waves of power like a rumbling earthquake, but all spoken through layers of earth and metal, as if from a prison.

“Indulge? I took the gift so I can — the fuck am I telling you for?” She stepped closer to the mask, and stared down at its unmoving form. For all she knew, she’d gone crazy and was hearing voices.

“Ares’s favor will not come, little Amazon.”

She growled. “Fuck you.”

“And while ... god of war cares not ... for Amazons’ failures, I am ... intrigued ... by your stubbornness.”

“Yeah well, it runs in the family.”

“Ah ... family.” The mask chuckled, and for a while, the white glow ceased. But it returned as a gentle mist once more, and the verbose mask began again. “My sisters ... not be kind to one ... obtained the gift ... unsanctioned means.”

“Sisters ... gift...” She took a step back. “W-what are—”

“Hush ... little Amazon. The gift ... yours to use, and use freely. The strength of many lives ... bless your vessel. You are powerful ... hard to kill, and glory ... drawn to you as you it. But Ares will not care. And your life ... eternal torment ... Fates capture you.”

“That won’t happen. Not if Andromeda succeeds.” Stop talking to the mask. Stop talking to the mask.

The laughter returned, hushed and deep. “Only when ... sea runs red with blood ... will the sorceress’s ambitions be met.”

“But—”

“And when all your hopes ... and dreams ... come crashing down around you, Otrera ... Amazon Queen, I’ll be there ... help you. With me ... can make something of the mess of bone and blood Andromeda ... will create.”

She took another step back. Her sword was shaking in her hand, and fingers were turning pale.

“H-how?”

“A Fate’s Child can wear a ... Moirai mask ... and live.” Its voice faded like dying mist, but just on the edge of her hearing, she could hear its call. The glowing of its eyes disappeared, and the darkness that closed in around her along with it. But the coldness remained on her spine.

She brought a hand up to her lips. “Wear—”

“Wear what?”

Otrera jumped, spun around, drew her sword, and landed with the blade pointing in front of her.

Andromeda stood there, face calm, steady, and just as naked as Otrera. Even with the Amazon’s sword only inches from her chest, Andromeda didn’t move or flinch. Hard as stone, her new leader was.

“Did I startle you?”

“You uh ... you did.” Otrera sighed, relaxed, and sheathed her sword. It was the first time she’d ever seen the sorceress nude. A tall woman, with tawny skin like Perseus, and just as smooth. Smooth except for one grand scar across the center of her chest. How had she received such a nasty thing? Still, it did nothing to detract from her beauty, her lean and tall frame, her long and wavy blonde hair, and her breasts. They didn’t have the weight or mass of the curvy nymph’s breasts, but they were still plentiful, and Otrera licked the inside of her lips at the sight of them.

But Andromeda’s cold gaze and hard chin cut through the atmosphere like a killer’s knife. Whatever Perseus did to seduce such a deadly woman, Otrera could not fathom.

“You said wear,” Andromeda said. She stepped around Otrera, reached out, and picked up the mask. Otrera thought its eyes might start glowing white again, but the mask remained lifeless. “I wouldn’t advise it. I put this mask on twenty people, and twenty corpses later, it had the blood it needed to fuel your ritual.”

Otrera gulped. The mask told her she could put it on. Not after hearing about the many people killed wearing it, she likely wasn’t!

“I’m surprised you just leave this thing out. The Fates are after it, Bellerophontes is after it, and apparently so are a giant, and Medusa herself.” Otrera stuck out her free palm, and smiled.

Andromeda grinned in return, a small one more befitting a stalking lioness, and put the mask in Otrera’s hand. It had weight. For a moment, Otrera was sure it would start speaking again, but the mask remained silent while she turned it around in her fingers. Thick, black, the inside held none of the chaotic silver lines like on its face, but instead, pure obsidian night.

“My magic hides us from their eyes, while my eyes can find many things, if it were to somehow go missing,” the sorceress said. Otrera did not miss the veiled threat. “And besides, the nymphs cannot leave, they enjoy my presence — or Perseus’s at least — and he is my lover.” Andromeda leaned in a little closer, and unless Otrera’s eyes were fooling her, the sorceress was smiling. “That leaves only you.”

“You do trust me an awful lot.” She handed back the mask. When Andromeda plucked it from her, Otrera started breathing again; she hadn’t noticed she’d stopped.

“Then maybe I’m a little naive. I saved your life, and I’m the only means you have of getting what you want. Would you betray me?” Smiling, Andromeda walked back over to the large rock, and set the mask down upon it. “And besides, we are both victims of fate. I understand your plight more than you know.”

“More than I know because you won’t tell me,” Otrera said, and she frowned at the taller woman.

Andromeda nodded. On her toes, she plucked a golden apple from the night’s canopy of branches, and took a bite. Just like any normal apple, and she tossed it to Otrera after doing so.

“It’s personal. Is saving your life and giving you the power of a Fate’s Child not enough to convince you we’re aligned?”

“No, it isn’t.” She was no fool. But, the apple in her hand did look exquisite, and after turning it around a couple times, she took a bite as well. A shiver ran up her spine, not cold but excited; the apples were not for humans. When no lightning struck her dead, she smirked, and took another bite. How delightfully defiant.

“I see.” The sorceress stepped out of the wood, Otrera behind her, and she walked along the small forest patch’s edge back toward where she left Perseus. The beautiful man was laying down on the grass, naked, with a couple nymphs snuggled into his arms. Asleep; and after fucking every nymph — Andromeda too — all damn day long, she couldn’t blame him.

Andromeda smiled down at her lover. “Perseus and I are both pawns, sacrificed at the whims of others. I will have my revenge, and then I’ll make sure it never happens to another soul,” the sorceress said. “Now, I go to prepare the ritual to destroy the necklace, in case that persistent bastard can track it here. Do you wish to watch?”

A sea of blood flowed through Otrera’s mind. “N-no ... I’m good.” What sort of maniac had she sworn fealty to? She wanted to help Andromeda, and she believed in her dream! But swimming through endless red to get to it wasn’t what she had expected.

“Very well.” Andromeda rotated her shoulders, sighed, and looked up at the sky. “Bellerophontes is proving most difficult to kill. I have failed once, and now you.” Chuckling, the sorceress motioned her head toward Pegasus. The beautiful, large white horse stood by a tree, sleeping. He’d fly away if he could, but for the gold ring of thorns and spikes still on his muzzle. “This time, both you and Perseus shall go. We will set the trap, lure him in, and kill him.”

“Trap? We have a trap?”

“Of course. And you — with a new necklace of course — will be the bait.”

“Lovely.”

The sorceress shrugged. “This time you will have Perseus’s aid, and more. Much more.”

~~Medusa~~

The Chimera healed so fast, Medusa found herself staring at him. Just a couple days ago, he’d been cut open enough to have killed Darian and her twice over. But now, he walked like it hadn’t happened, like he hadn’t been stabbed a dozen times with spears, and had his side butchered. Forever a force of stone and momentum, Chimera walked forward and approached the beach.

How Darian had managed to beat such a monster, she could not comprehend. Even with the aid of a flying horse, her lover would have had to drop a mountain on him to kill him.

Her poor Darian. Chimera held him in his arms — so tiny compared to the giant — and he hadn’t managed even the smallest protest. He was sweating, coughing, and his body shivered with blood loss. He’d live, he was sure of it, Chimera was sure of it, but Medusa couldn’t help but glance his way every few minutes. The arrows she’d pulled from his body were not normal arrows; they were huge, and their tips gleamed with a metal she did not recognize.

She looked up. The sun was setting, gentle and orange, and the sea breeze smelled wonderful. Sand shifted underneath her belly scales, and she reached down to scoop some of it up before letting it fall between her fingers.

“Gallea? Pinna?” she said.

No answer. She scanned the horizon. In front of her was the Myrtoan Sea, south of the Argolic Gulf they’d left. Her island was out there, and try as she might to forget it, she longed for the familiar embrace of her cage. But, she knew it was stupid, and she would not let such self-destructive desires lure her back.

“Gallea? Pinna?” She slithered further down the beach. Where would a satyr couple hide?

“Who do you speak of?” Chimera said. Darian was asleep in his arms; the giant’s deep voice must have been soothing.

“I told you we came on a magical ship. Gallea and Pinna are its ... caretakers, I guess. I’m not sure what their role is, other than helping Darian.” It was such an odd choice, satyrs to care for a ship of the dead. “They’re satyrs. A lovely couple! And Pinna is so nice.”

The giant rumbled. “Satyrs are musicians and storytellers. They must be working with the Fates to create a tale.”

“I ... I ... that does make sense.” And then the choice wasn’t so odd. Of course the Fates would want someone to spread the tale of Darian — Bellerophontes. She frowned, and flicked her tongue at the air. It didn’t mean they were bad, or going to betray them, but it did mean Pinna hadn’t told her.

Chimera rumbled again, and took several long sniffs of the air. “I do smell them.”

“Oh? Are they near?”

“No. They passed by yesterday.” The huge brute stepped back up onto the nearby grass, and looked out over the rolling hills before down at his feet. “One has walked this path several times. The woman, only the once. To leave.”

Medusa tilted her head, slithered up to join the Chimera, and gazed at the grass. All she could see was green and dirt, but grass was all the giant needed to tell the gender of a satyr. He was such a better hunter than her.

“And if you and Bellerophontes both left from here, then the female satyr’s tracks followed you.”

“What? But I don’t understand. They should have—”

“They had to see,” Darian said, voice cracked and dry.

“Darian, you’re awake!” Medusa raised her torso up to lean over her lover, and planted several kisses on his forehead. The Chimera rolled his eyes and looked away, and she hissed at him for good measure.

“Yeah ... I think.” He coughed, and shuddered a few times in the giant’s arms. “Chimera is right, they’re storytellers. I was wondering how they’d tell this tale if I didn’t share it with them. I didn’t think either of them capable, but one of them must have tracked us, tracked me, and watched from afar.”

“I ... that ... I don’t believe that. Pinna and Gallea were nice people.” Medusa slithered in a large figure eight along the sand.

The giant grunted. “I would have seen them if they had followed me.”

“Yeah, well, they work for the Fates. This fancy armor I’m wearing isn’t the only gift they’ve given, I’m sure.” He coughed, grumbled, and shook his head like dislodging a spirit. “It doesn’t matter. We need them.”

Nodding, Chimera set Darian down onto the grass to sit, before he stepped out onto the beach and pointed his hand at the sea. The snake tattoo still had red eyes from whatever strange magic Chimera had worked when speaking to Gaia. The idea that the giant had spoken to Gaia herself still made Medusa shiver.

“ ... the taint in your bauble. Whatever it is, its source is out there.” He gestured to the great blue before them. “But not within Gaia’s grasp, as if afloat. Hunting this devil will be troublesome.”

Darian groaned as he shifted his weight, reached up to his neck, and lifted the necklace he was wearing. It glowed white, the same white Medusa had seen in the man’s eyes when they met. More shivers.

“The only thing Otrera had that seemed relevant. Except for the woman herself,” Darian said.

“You’ve sssssaid her name a few times now. Who is Otrera?” Medusa slithered back up the beach to Darian, and circled him in her usual coil. And with familiar comfort, Darian leaned back against her scales before letting his head relax backward onto her.

He grimaced, and clutched at the glowing pebble in his hand. “Someone, I ... someone I ruined. You really wanna know?” His eyes fell to the sand. He raised the necklace over his head, and dangled it across where the sand and grass met.

“I do.” She stroked his hair, combed it with her fingers, and caressed his ear. Soon, the man leaned into her grip, and she smiled as she laid herself down along her snake half near his head. The more she could continue to touch his hair, his face, his neck and shoulders, the more she could convince herself he hadn’t just nearly died.

“It’s a pretty ugly story.”

“That’s ok.”

He chuckled, held up the glowing pebble in front of his eyes, and smirked at Medusa. “I know you’ll forgive me. But that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven myself for it.”

“Forgive yourself?”

“Dealing with him”—the small warrior gestured to the colossus near the water—”was only the first thing King Iobates asked of me. There were others, some I’m not proud of. Like ... dealing with the Amazons.” His sigh cut the air and silenced the sea breeze. All she could hear was his voice, and the weight in it. “They were causing trouble for his borders. And because I was a damn idiot who believed everything he said at the time, I defended those borders. The Amazons liked to use the woods, and Iobates’s army was useless in them. So...”

She squeezed his shoulder. Every time the man talked about his past, it was nothing but pain and misery. The best she could do was be an ear to his woes.

“So you killed them all.” Chimera chuckled, a deep rumbling sound, and walked over to stare down at the two of them.

Darian snarled. “Fuck you, how would you know? You were asleep in a hole in the ground.”

“I know you better than most. I tasted your blade.” The giant leaned down, and sneered. “I know how someone like you would fight. A fox. Sneaky, fast, and strong when he needs to be. You would have walked into that forest alone, and where an army could not go, you would have. You’d have beaten the Amazons at their own game, and used the densest trees to force them into small skirmishes, a few of them against you at a time. And only when their army was too deep in the woods to flee on horse back would you have gone on the offensive. Only when their escape was impossible would you have shown your true skills, and slaughtered them one at a time, with the trees as your shield.”

Medusa stared at the brute, mouth agape. How dare he! How could he accuse her Darian of such brutal tactics. But, when Darian lowered his head, her heart sank with it, and the heavy silence returned.

“ ... it was the only way,” Darian said.

Chimera nodded. “I am sure it was a glorious battle.”

Darian got up, shaking and shivering. His armor, which he refused to take off while they traveled, could not hide the wounds in his limbs. And when he approached the giant, Medusa could see the hole in the back of his armor the arrow had left. Chills ran down her snake spine each time she saw it.

“It was a slaughter,” Darian said. Clutching his side with one hand, he reached up and pressed against the towering giant’s stomach with the other. Of course, the Chimera did not move, and Darian growled at him.

The giant rumbled a laugh. “Do you feel remorse for their deaths?”

“I...”

Medusa got up, slithered over to the giant, and pushed him. Tail anchored, she pushed her hands into his chest, and forced him to take a step back.

“Leave him alone.”

“It’s ok Medusa. He knows me well. But not as well as he thinks.” The small warrior waved a hand, dismissing the giant, before he limped over to the water and stared out over the sea. “Ok, so our target is somewhere, but you can’t pinpoint them from the necklace.”

Chimera nodded, and stepped over to stand beside the small warrior. From behind, the difference in their size was insane, and it made Medusa’s jaw drop. Darian’s head reached the giant’s hip, and no higher. Even a tall man’s head would not have reached the monster’s waist. And when the giant held out his hand for the bauble, it dwarfed Darian’s, like a kitten’s paw in the hand of a lion.

The Fate’s Child handed the Chimera the glowing necklace. Chimera raised it up, sniffed it, and eyed it like a banker eying his wares. Medusa slithered over the sand to join them, and smiled when she found the giant frowning. His face was always either stern or confident in its smile; to see him frustrated like an upset child was a pleasant change.

“Magic, but it does not smell of the Fates. Your taint is not here, instead—”

The necklace shattered.

Darian jumped back, Medusa slithered away with a snap of her length, and the Chimera stepped back with a grunt.

“ ... what in Tartarus.” Reaching down, Darian got to a knee and scooped up the remnants of the necklace. What little white glow it had was gone, and all that remained was the shattered pieces of an ordinary pebble.

Medusa plucked a piece from his palm, then another, and frowned when her efforts to piece them together failed. But it earned a chuckle from Darian, and she smiled back at him.

“Chimera touched it last,” Medusa said. Chimera grimaced at her, and she stuck her long tongue out at him.

“I don’t think that had anything to do with it. It really did just shatter, and stop working, and ... and I’m guessing whoever made this necklace doesn’t want us using it. Does it still have a scent, Chimera?”

The giant got down to a knee, and Darian poured the remains into his huge palm.

“ ... no. The scent is gone. The magic is gone.”

Darian collapsed onto his back, and stared up at the sky. The wind was sucked out of him, and Medusa joined him, laying down and putting her cheek on his chest. All that work for nothing. Nothing!

Chimera rumbled. “You are both children. Get up. You said Otrera is now a Fate’s Child.”

“ ... yeah.”

“Then it is her Gaia sensed. She is out there, somewhere. We can find her again.”

Medusa nodded. “Yeah, we can try again! And this time, we know what we’re looking for. We’ll catch this Amazon, and make her tell us where Pegasusss is!” She got back up, reached down, and scooped Darian up along with her to set him standing. “Chimera said, if they’re on Earth, he can find them. If she’s out there, she’ll have to be back on land at some point, right? We’ll catch her!” Tingles ran down her spine length. They’d succeed on this journey yet, rescue Pegasus, and meet Athena.

“Your enthusiasm is limitless,” her lover said, and he slipped a hand around her hip to hold her to him. “And Andromeda wa—”

“Who?” Medusa said.

“I ... uh...” He took a small breath, looked to the sunset, and wiped away the grimace sneaking onto his lips. “Let’s build a fire. I’m awake now, I’ll tell you what happened.”

“She killed Proetus! And Stheneboea?”

Medusa was coiled tight, her human half lying along her scales, and Darian was leaning back against it again, the fire in front of him. Chimera sat across from them, legs folded underneath him, lion pelt hanging behind him from his neck, and ancient eyes staring into the fire. The sun was gone, and the night was misty, the breeze cool and wet.

“She did, yeah. And ... and...” Reaching behind and over his shoulder, he found her hand, and pulled it to him to tuck it against his neck with her fingers trapped in his. “I don’t know. I was there, and I could have killed them both, and ... and I didn’t. She did it instead, just to spread word that I’m a killer. Proetus, he ... gods, he knew. He knew the whole time, about his wife, about what she did, he knew the whole thing was a lie.”

She eased her torso a little further along her scales to bring her chin to his shoulder from behind him, and rested it there on her hand where she caressed his collar.

“Just because he loved his wife,” she said.

“Yes! Yes I ... I’m such a damn fool. One phrase, one sentence and it ... fuck, it just wiped my anger away. Stopped me dead.”

“Darian, that is good. Good! It’s not a bad thing to let go of your rage every once in a while.” As she knew all too well.

“Yeah, I guess. I did manage to get out of there without killing anyone. Maybe even earned an ally in Patrius some day.”

“Maybe. But what of Andromeda?”

“Otrera said Andromeda was the reason she was able to get so close to Proetus. She’s someone important. But I don’t recognize her name.”

Medusa shrugged. They both looked at Chimera, and he rolled his eyes. Human names were probably as important to him as the color of silk.

“What I don’t understand is how this Amazon can be a Fate’s Child. You told me only men are Fate’s Children,” she said.

“Yeah, they are.”

“And that the Fates bless them when they are very young.”

“They do.”

Forked tongue licking the air, she nudged her hair of snakes into her man’s neck. “You said she was not so blessed when you defeated her when you were helping King Iobates. So, someone must have done this to her, and if it wasn’t the Fates, then ... the person who stole the Moirai mask?”

The small warrior nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking. Whoever stole the mask, and is capable of hiding from the Fates, has to be powerful, powerful enough to maybe use the mask to do ... Fate-ish things, like creating a new Fate’s Child.”

The Chimera stirred from his stillness, and reached out to poke at the fire with a stick. “Andromeda may be this person.”

“Maybe,” Darian said. “We’ll have to ask Otrera more when we catch her.”

“We have to wait for Gallea and Pinna if we want to pursue her though, wherever she may be. Chimera says she’s out there,” she said, and she gestured to the sea down along the beach, “and without a ship, we aren’t going to make it far.”

“Yeah, especially now that people are looking for me ... and you.”

Medusa tilted her head. “Me?”

“You let some of the soldiers escape. Word will spread that Medusa is on the mainland.”

“I ... I couldn’t ... I—”

“It’s ok. It doesn’t really matter, someone was going to find out sooner or later, and it’s not like it affects how people are going to react when they see you.”

Memories of every man she’d met since her transformation surfaced. “I guess not.”

“And him too.” Darian gestured to Chimera, who grunted in return. “We’ll have to try our hardest to avoid being seen unless we want a local city hunting us down like a mob.”

“A mob...” She sighed, and settled back onto her coil. A host of people, marching, screaming, torches and rocks and pitchforks. Farmers and soldiers and everything in between. For her? She shivered.

A touch on her knuckles brought her attention back, and she smiled at the small warrior pulling on her fingers. He was looking over his shoulder at her, concern painted on his face.

“You ok?” he said.

“Me? You’re the one who I had to yank arrows out of. You ... were screaming, and there was blood everywhere.”