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All eyes are fixed as the door begins to open. Heart slapping against my ribs, my hand instinctively flies to my scabbard, fingers searching for the hilt of my sword, only to find it empty.
“W-what’s happening?” Lark’s words are frantic as they stream in a breathy whisper. I wish I knew, wish had an answer for her that didn’t somehow include all of us dying, but the sad fact of the matter is that’s the only likely scenario that’ll play out.
The door creaks open slowly and Peter fills the frame. “We need to go now.”
For a moment, what he’s said doesn’t register. No one moves. No one acknowledges his command.
Several beats pass then he says, “Don’t you want to get out of here?”
Balling my hands into fists that I plant on my hips, I advance several steps, anger brimming within me. “We aren’t going anywhere with you.”
Brushing debris from his shirt, Peter’s gaze clashes with mine. “Yes you are,” he says levelly. “The Uganna have my son and your friend. They’re being held not far from here. We have to leave now before it’s too late.” Panic etches his features and sparks to life inside me like lightning. Riley is being held by the Uganna. She’s alive, and I suppose that should present a glimmer of relief, but knowing that she’s surrounded by wild, bloodthirsty beasts offers no comfort whatsoever.
“My sister is being held by Uganna? Where? When did this happen? Is she okay?” Oliver erupts, lunging forward as his voice rolls like thunder through the cavernous space. For a moment, I worry he’ll attack Peter. Truth be told, I’d be hard pressed to find anyone in our cell to stop him. After what he’s done to us, leading us here, I think each of us would like a turn pummeling him.
Peter doesn’t flinch. He stands his ground despite Oliver’s threatening demeanor. He’s terrified for his son, just as we are for Riley. “I don’t know what’s happened to them, and won’t until we get there.”
“We?” Oliver growls.
Peter throws his hands up, cutting off Oliver. “Stay here if you want. I’m going to get my son, with or without you.” He eyes each of us, the fierceness and determination of a loved one prepared to shed blood to save his own radiating from him.
“How can you even expect us to come with you after you brought us here?” I snap.
“I can’t, really, but you want your friend, don’t you?” He doesn’t wait for us to respond with a unanimous yes. “And I’m the only one in here who knows where she is.” He pauses and squeezes his eyes shut. “And I brought you here because I needed to see whether the people stationed here—my people—we’re alive.” He opens his eyes and rubs his forehead. “Besides, we can use all the help we can get, and you wouldn’t have come if I’d have told you.”
“That’s for sure,” Sully says.
Peter ignores the acid in Sully’s tone and continues. “I also knew that Luc and the others wouldn’t hurt you if I told them not to.”
“Yeah, you really looked like you had things under control,” Sully huffs and folds his arms across his chest. “And how did you know we wouldn’t fight, that we wouldn’t attack at the wall, as soon as we knew where we were?”
Peter scrubs his chin and flicks his wrist. “That was a risk.”
“Yeah, a pretty big one if you ask me.” Sully throws one hand in the air, his annoyance plain.
“It was,” Peter conceded. “But these people here,” he gestures behind him. “They’re my friends. You’d have done the same for one other.”
He’s right, of course. We’d have done whatever it took to see to it that we made it to our friends, even if it meant betraying one who’d saved our lives. I won’t give him the benefit of the doubt at the moment. I’m still reeling from being led here, and then learning of Riley’s whereabouts.
“All right, enough of this!” Oliver blurts, clearly unfazed by Peter comparing the loyalty he felt to his people to the loyalty we feel for one another. “Where do they have my sister?”
Peter swallows hard. But before he speaks, Luc comes into view and stands beside him in the doorway. “There is a Uganna camp about a mile from here,” he says. “They are holding many humans and some Urthmen. They’re caged.” The words seep from between his teeth in a hostile hiss. “There isn’t much time.” Urgency colors his tone.
My stomach clenches before rolling in on itself. “Why?” I ask and a part of me balks at the unending list of horrific answers I may get.
Luc exchanges a furtive glance with Peter. I watch their exchange, watch as Peter gives a nod so subtle it’s almost imperceptible. “Just come,” Luc pleads.
I’m not sure what it is about the interaction exactly that convinces me to urge my friends to go, but I hear myself agree. “Okay.” The word falls from my lips, strange to even my own ears. Five heads whip in my direction to face me. I say nothing, rather I meet each of their gazes.
“I’m coming too.” Oliver is the first to say. Sully and June follow immediately then Lark and Arnost.
Luc bows his head, the gesture bordering on respectful. He steps aside, as does Peter, and we file out of the cell and into the main area of the small building. The small group of Urthmen who led us here is congregated. They hold our weapons, and in a move that stuns all of us, redistribute them. Sully slides me a glance just before Arnost mutters, “Never thought I’d live to see the day Urthmen hand out weapons to humans.”
A lopsided grin, the one I’ve come to know and love, plays across Sully’s lips. It’s hard not to snicker at Arnost’s comment for none of us ever thought we’d live to witness what is occurring. A common enemy is the thread that unites us, that hunts us and currently holds ones we love. I look to Peter. Desperation marks his features, and a wildness I didn’t notice earlier lingering there too.
The Urthmen continue distributing weapons, arming themselves further after handing us ours. I’m comforted by the weight of my sword in my hand, rolling the hilt in my grip for several seconds before replacing it to my sheath.
“Let’s go, let’s go,” Peter urges our group as soon as my weapon is in place. Luc freezes mid motion while loading arrows into his quiver and shoots him a glance. “They have my son! We need to go.” The calm veneer Peter’s maintained thus far crumbles. His concern for his son’s safety consumes him. It’s understandable, admirable despite the fact that he led us here and put us in a precarious position, one that could have ended in bloodshed.
“Okay, we’re leaving now.” Luc’s tone is surprisingly soft. He turns on his heels and orders the rest of the Urthmen to march out, and we begin our journey to the Uganna base.
A thread of a breeze curls between the buildings in the small camp. It whips up the scent of moss and fallen leaves, and also a hint of sweetness, of burning brush, of a bonfire. I tip my nose to the air and my senses prickle. The camp, no doubt is nearer than I thought. We set off at a jog, and the more ground we cover, the stronger and more distinct the smell becomes. In no time, we arrive at a spot where the woods thin.
Hundreds of torches, both in the rock of squat structures and wedged in the dirt, light the space in a glow so bright it almost resembles daylight. We see it before we’re close, hear it. The screams and cries of human beings echoes like thunder through the woods, growing louder with each step we take. Once we reach the low-growing brush that skirts the clearing, we crouch, and what I see sickens me in a way that will haunt my days and nights for the rest of my life. I choke on fury, looking away before I do something I’ll regret. I have to make a conscious effort to not race headlong into the village, swinging my blade and taking out as many Uganna as I can in the process. I know such a move would be foolhardy at the moment; that waiting to strike is the best course of action. But it’s hard, especially when I see small iron cages. Spaced side by side with a thin smattering of straw within, cages with many humans stuffed in each, the space so tight they can’t even move. Some contain children curled on their sides and sucking their thumbs in some instances, mud streaked faces gazing out painfully. Their expressions are forlorn, hopeless, the cages so small they can barely move. My stomach squeezes in, collapsing on itself. All I see is June not long ago. Each of them could easily be her. Each of them belongs to someone—a mother, a father, a sister, brother or friend, a community. Someone is searching for them right now, not knowing that they’re here, captives contained behind bars. But not all are children, and not all are silent. Pleas, shouted and whimpered, tear from throats grown raw from exertion. Outstretched hands, bruised faces and bloody lips press against bars, backs hunches and low from lack of space, punctuate a scene that is horror personified.
Grinding my teeth hard, my fists clench so hard my fingernails dig into my palms painfully. Seeing their conditions, the cramped space, the welts and blood, sends panic screaming through me in time with insurmountable fear.
“They are in there, you friend and his son,” Luc says in a low voice.
Riley. Sweet Riley, no older than June and my sister all but by blood, is caged like an animal. “Why are they kept there?” The words leave me in a growl.
“You don’t want to know.” Luc’s gaze is distance, scanning the sea of bars and the thousands of Uganna.
What I believe to be guards patrol the cages. I estimate a few dozen. They are more numerous than I’d prefer, but still manageable. The rest of the Uganna are gathered around a massive bonfire farther away. Stretching and looking as if its flames lap the navy swath of sky above it, the blaze spawns spiraling tornadoes of smoke. The sweet, aromatic smell of it and the dazzling spectacle produced by it would be a treat for the senses were it not complimented by abject human suffering and monstrous creatures prowling in the moonlight. Surveying the position of guards and the rest of their legion, I realize we’d be able to kill them without being seen. Far enough away from the center of activity where the bonfire and torches glow brightly, dark shadows stretch between the rows of cages. Any move we make would be cloaked by darkness. I turn my head, trying to make eye contact with Sully but his gaze is riveted straight ahead. Following it, I return my attention to the camp. The shuffle of feet is muffled by the continual cries, but I see a commotion, see that roughly fifty Uganna are being led to the cages by one that walks on two legs rather than propelling himself forward with his knuckles to the ground first. He makes his way between the rows, inspecting them carefully before stopping.
An eerie hush befalls the rowdy group procession that follows him, the stillness profound and unsettling.
“What’s going on? What’s happening?” I ask as bile rockets up the back of my throat.
“What is all this?” Oliver points to the spectacle.
Luc shakes his head, his beady eyes widened to full capacity and zeroed in on the half-circle that has formed around cages. “It’s happening again.”
“What? What’s happening again?” I demand. But my question is answered when five cage doors are systematically unlocked, humans yanked from their confines. They huddle, nervously looking amongst themselves when they are released. The atmosphere surrounding them is charged with anguish, with desperation. I focus on one in particular. The torment etched in his haggard features is palpable, as are the small twitches of his muscles. I sense that he wants to run and silently shout at him to rethink whatever plan he’s hatching. He’s grossly outnumbered, unarmed and likely weakened by the lacerations and bruises that mark his body. But my wordless plea falls on deaf ears. Dark eyes dart from side to side, and for a moment, I swear he looks directly at me, the muscles in his arms and legs quivering like a cornered animal. “No, no, no. Don’t do it,” I whisper just before he darts left, toward the space where the dense trees and brush thin; where I stand willing him to be still. He doesn’t make it more than twenty feet before the half circle of Uganna, impossibly fast and agile despite their thick bodies, descend on him. One beast dives through the air with the grace of the most deadly of predators. It lands atop the man, his fists at the man’s shoulders and long, ropey arms pinning him down. Falling backward and with the weight of the Uganna on him, the man’s head meets with the hard earth, ricocheting with a loud pop. Without wasting a second, the Uganna opens its mouth and sinks its teeth into the man’s neck. The man cries out in abject pain, but the beast is undeterred. It feasts, tearing and shaking its head from side to side frenzied. Others join it before the rest descend on those who’ve been released from their cages, the wet slopping sounds of feeding interrupted only by the crunch of bone. I want to charge them, to rush to the aid of the humans, the need as instinctive as blinking. They are human beings, brothers and sisters bound to me not by blood but by familial ties that supersede shared parents.
Whipping my head and looking among the faces of my group, everyone looks aghast, sickened and horrified. We all want to help. But our hands are tied. Attacking now would only get us killed as well. It’s a hard reality to embrace, that we have to stand idly by and watch as our own people are devoured. When the Uganna step back, nothing remains of the humans save for a swath of crimson—their lifeblood—which they promptly lower their heads to and lick from the pale dirt.
Stomach churning, my heart pounds and a fine sheen of sweat coats my skin. Cold and nauseated, vomit shoots up my esophagus. I swallow it back, knowing fully that any noise would alert the Uganna to our presence. We’re not ready for them to know of our arrival, not yet at least. “What was that?” I hear myself mutter.
“Feeding time,” Luc replies, the revulsion in his tone thick.
“What?” Oliver’s eyes are narrowed, his lips tight.
Luc nods somberly. “The humans are kept as meals.”
Oliver’s head rears as if he’s been struck. “No.” His voice is a hoarse whisper. His eyes leave Luc and return to the macabre scene beyond the bushes. “Riley could’ve been one of them.”
“No,” Luc says firmly. “She and Matthew are in the cages down there on the end.” He points in the distance. “We’ve seen them,” he fairly chokes on the word. “And the cages are still full.”
The anxious nausea in my gut squeezes tighter. I grind my teeth. “We need to move now, before another group is freed, before more of our people are fed upon.”
“What’re you suggesting, that we charge headlong into a village of tens of thousands of Uganna?” One of the Urthmen that travels with us shoulders his way between Luc and Peter. The corners of his mouth pull downward and his small eyes cloud with worry.
“That’s exactly what we need to do. Not what we’re suggesting. That’s what’s going to happen.” Oliver leans forward, his posture intimidating. “Those monsters aren’t feeding on my sister. Not while I’m still breathing.” He stabs his finger first at the Uganna village then at the Urthman.
The Urthman recoils, shrinking back to where he previously stood. I exchange a meaningful glance with Sully then with June before chancing a look back toward the village. Flickering light, a blend of golds and oranges, draws sinister shadows from the faces of the Uganna as they rip the flesh from the bodies of the remaining humans who’ve been freed. Screams still ring out, muffled only by the grunts and snorts of the beasts. I look away, my eyes landing on June. Her hands cover her mouth and tears stream down her cheeks before she squeezes them shut and twists her neck, averting the gruesome scene. I want to go to her, to do what feels natural and normal and comfort my sister. But nothing feels natural or normal about our circumstances. And I also know I must study the layout of the village. I must return my gaze to the carnage. Swallowing hard against the lump firmly wedged in my throat, I force myself to watch as Uganna with crimson smears staining their chins, necks and chests are wrangled by a handful of others who walk hunched but upright. They appear to be in a position of authority and lead them away, shepherding them from the cages with long-handled clubs. Only a few dozen Uganna remain behind.
“What’s going on down there?” Sully directs his question to any Urthman willing to answer.
Luc sighs. “The ones who led the group away that fed are guards of some sort. At least that’s what we think. They’re going to get another group of Uganna and feed them another group of Urthmen or humans from the cages.”
“They’re bloodthirsty monsters, but they’re organized,” Peter growls.
“If what you’re saying is true then this is the best time to strike; right now before the next group is ushered in.”
Sully’s gaze meets mine. The small muscles around his jaw flex and work as he considers what I’ve said.
“What? That’s preposterous!” Luc protests. “We need a plan, a strategy of some sort.”
“No!” Peter whirls on Luc, anger bordering on madness glittering in the depths of his black eyes. “We have to get there before my son is ripped to shreds by those beasts!”
Luc stands, still and speechless, his lips parted. I don’t wait for him to speak. I face the group and say. “Are we ready?” Time is not on our side but the deep shadows of darkness streaking between the cages are. “We need to act now.” Solemn nods ripple through the group. Urthmen and humans, joined for a common cause against a common enemy, are about to strike. “June, stay back. You’re the best archer I know. We’ll need you here. We need the advantage of your skill and position.” She parts her lips, and for a moment I think she’ll protest. But her lips clamp shut and she nods dutifully. I convey as much love and appreciation as a look allows before turning and taking a final glimpse at the horrific situation we’re running into. After a deep breath, I take the first step, leading the way to the Uganna village.
Clutching our weapons we all rush from the concealment of the brush, flying down a gently sloping ridge to what could very well be our deaths.