Chương 84: Hostage Squirt

Squirt was roused partway through the night by a mental tug. Her eyes opened and she froze in place, barely breathing, as she listened to her surroundings. Nothing more than the normal night sounds and faint murmurs of voices. They wish to ask you questions, mother dearest. Her expression flattened. A brief pause. Do you know how to pick locks? She scowled. She could, but she didn't exactly carry lock picks on her, and it had been at least twenty years since she'd last done it. Another pause.

Do you have any way of securing the keys? If so, they have some children they'd want you to unlock. Pressing her lips together into a flat line, she begrudgingly responded that she would take the descriptions, and if the right opportunity arose, she'd do her best. While acknowledging the chances were low. Vivlet, seventeen, elf. Tall, pink haired, delicate features, freckles. Vocklan, twenty-two, dragon shifter. The tallest and broadest of the group, dark hair, red eyes, brown skin.

Serlyn, eighteen, winter pixie with ice blonde hair, teal eyes, paler than the rest. And Mox, nineteen sphinx shifter. Dark skin, golden eyes, a little lanky. She noted the descriptions for later, hoping that wasn't the only reason they had woken her. Dryness entered his tone. Do you think that the ritual staffs would work to contain the kidnappers? Obviously not. Were they idiots? A shadowfell with that many tendrils that were that long?

Unless they could lure them away or distract them completely—unlikely—disrupting the ritual and preventing it would be child's play. All they'd have to do would be to break a single staff and they'd be fucked. The entire ritual would break alongside it. From his amusement, he'd already known that answer. How in the world was he speaking to them? I'm not, merely pantomiming and scratching the floor to answer yes or no. It's a travesty. Clearly, they were going to have to come up with signals.

This couldn't be efficient. She paused, wondering suddenly if she could teach him to read and write. His curiosity piqued briefly before he said, Later. It looks like this group is headed east to the border. Your redcap picked up the trail and found a body—their poor instructor. Drank dry. Why did she get the feeling he would have mourned the fact it didn't have blood? Based on his amusement, she was absolutely right.

There was a bit of silence from his end while he clearly answered more questions, and Squirt found herself nodding off again. Sleep, little chosen. This situation is too delicate for a plan without more information. She obeyed. She roused to the sound of barking orders, freezing in place in the log as she carefully tried to scan the environment. Then there was a grunt and a fall just beyond the log, and she looked up into the wide-eyed face of a fey just shy of adulthood. Staring directly at her. Shit.

He was wrapped in tendrils that were slowly constricting him as the shadowfell's silky voice rolled over her ears.

"Naughty, naughty. I told you, no running." The tendrils wrapped up around the fey male's mouth, tears in his dark brown eyes as he tried to fight against their hold, clearly panicked and silently begging her for help.

"Hm… and what has your attention, then?" Shit, shit, shit— Squirt made a split-second decision, almost ripping off the ties of her dimensional pouch on her hip to shove it in a hole at the base of the log— She had just enough time to add the other pouch tucked in her breastband before a cool tendril that felt oddly unfamiliar wrapped around her ankles and yanked her out of the hole.

It released her as she panicked only for a bruising grip to wrap around her bicep, dragging her towards the partial clearing where the children were. With a grunt, her captor tossed her forward towards where the fell stood waiting for both her and the escapee. Squirt hit the dirt hard, rolling with the force of it several feet before she stopped, biting back the instinctive hiss from what would absolutely be a series of bruises later.

Even before she had fully come to a stop, years of beatings moved her into an instant low bow—on her knees, her palms flat on the ground, her forehead pressed into the dirt towards the most powerful fey there. The shadowfell. By a wide margin.

"Bleh, hardly a snack—""A greenling? Here?"

"—lost a servant—" The vampires silenced with a single gesture from the fell, who cocked their head as they considered Squirt. The teens were all silently watching on, clearly both invested in and scared of the outcome. One of the vampires squatted next to her, saying maliciously, "Snack or not, I've never had greenling before. Perhaps it's tasty." Another leaned over the tangled child, grinning slightly too widely.

"Not as delicious as this one." The young male must have had his gag removed as he bit out, "Fuck off, don't you know who I—" A grunt followed this declaration, telling Squirt he'd been punished for his backtalk. The vampire over him tutted, her grin gleaming in the light.

"Aw, that's just it—we know exactly who you are, little Regali." Squirt paled. Regali. The ruling Family. They had remained that way for millennia by adopting the monarch into their ranks during the coronation or adopting promising young fey nobles to train them into powerful political positions. She kept her head down and mouth shut.

"Maybe we should make an example out of this one?" The female vampire hovering over the teen asked hopefully, her posture pointed towards the fell who was quietly watching the interactions. One of the other teens, either brave or stupid, cried out, "You can't!" Idiots, what were they doing — More sounds of protest came from the teens that had the bile rising in Squirt's throat. Still, she kept her head down and did not move. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Abruptly, all noise silenced. The fell's voice spoke.

"You are all poorly trained in the ancient ways. Yes. Poorly indeed." Their tendrils started running over Squirt's body, and she trembled a little in terror without lifting her head. In her mind, she could feel Pakos beginning to panic in response to her terror, and anger gripped her next as she forcibly told him to stay back. The tendrils receded and the vampire squatting next to her said, "Must be some kind of servant, eh?" Squirt didn't move. The shadowfell spoke again.

"… yes. Well trained, this one."

"You sure about that, my royal?" Shit. No wonder they were so powerful. The fell took one step towards her and a hush fell over the group. Internally, she shoved down her every emotion of fear and rage until she could be as emotionless as possible, focusing on each breath in and out.

"What is it they call you?" they asked. Her voice trembled but remained clearly enunciated enough for them to hear.

"Squirt, your highness."

"Hm… what would a greenling be doing in the depths of the Wylds like this?" Squirt remained silent, as they had made it clear the query was rhetorical.

"Bet she got lost," muttered the squatting vampire to her left.

"Hm… with these leathers?" A grunt sounded before a hand grabbed her shoulder and forced her up. The royal shadowfell glanced at the crest of her breastplate, their head cocked just a little too far to be natural as they said, "Everwinter?" One of the vampires snickered.

"Bet she stole the thing." The fell remained unnaturally still before saying quietly, "Such a small pixie, wearing well fit leathers you believe she stole?" The vampires quieted, contemplating the mystery of her. Internally, Squirt tried not to panic. Shit. Damnit. Fuck. The fell didn't have to be both ungodly powerful and intelligent to boot. That just wasn't fair. One of the teens, a young girl, stood and said, "Let her go. We'll follow, just don't hurt her. She's innocent—just a servant."

"A servant sleeping in a log?" the fell asked in consideration, before leaning in and inhaling, more of their tendrils touching her in a curious exploration that had just a touch of malicious undertone to it. The maliciousness of someone who knew they held her life in the palm of their hand. Fuck, fuck, fuck— The vampire holding her shoulder let Squirt go, and she dropped back into the low bow, keeping her silence and missing the slight smile of satisfaction on the fell's face at her trembling deference.

"Yes. Yes, indeed. Well trained, but not a servant. Not with those scars." They tapped the short sleeve of her arm where there was a gap in the leather.

"These come not from a whip, no, but teeth. These, however…" tendrils stroked a couple of the ones visible at the base of her neck from Riverlands, still bright pink and fresh.

"… cruel indeed, to whip a pixie so." One of the teens muttered, "Bet she deserved it," but was quickly hushed and, based on the noise, smacked by the others. The fell considered Squirt for a while longer before one of the vampires said, "My royal, what of the greenling?" They tapped her head with one finger.

"This one, this is a good example. They should learn from this one."

"And the escapee?" Their hand made its way under Squirt's chin, firmly lifting her face to theirs to study her directly. Focusing on her breathing and shoving her emotions down, Squirt kept most of the terror and rage from her face, leaving nothing but blankness behind and her eyes lowered, not daring to meet their own. They nodded once, then cocked their head.

"These lashings. Were they justified?" The briefest flare of confusion slipped over Squirt's features as she blinked, having not expected the question. The fell was patient before she finally answered blandly, "As much as any other, your highness." Their lips twitched.

"You do not fear me." She kept silent, her expression blank. Truthfully, this fell terrified her as much as any powerful fey did. They nodded once.

"I am in need of a servant. These ones need a good example to follow. So long as you act in my service, neither I nor my people will harm you, so I swear on Darkness herself." Squirt blinked, briefly thrown off by the abrupt tone shift. Something had changed. They had noticed something, discovered something, that made them think keeping her alive and unharmed would both be of value, and would earn them her loyalty. Either that, or that she was too stupid to figure out the dangerous loophole in their wording.

Was it the mark on her forehead? They were intelligent, clearly. Did they perhaps figure out she was Athereon? Were they working with the Skyian Kingdom, meaning that the fell just realized they had stumbled upon a free payday? Or were they just hoping for a greenling servant? They slowly straightened, their tendrils dancing threateningly at the edge of her vision.

"Tell me, Servant Squirt—what is the punishment that should be granted to you had you run and spoken so out of turn?" Having a feeling of knowing where this was going, she emotionally retreated as she responded, "A slave who runs has their feet burned so every step might remind them of who they walk for. A slave who speaks will be whipped for every word spoken out of turn to their betters to remind them of who they speak for." The smile they gave her was cruel and filled with malicious intent.

"Indeed." She flinched as the body next to her was lifted roughly, the clothing on his back and shoes on his feet ripped off. Casually, keeping their eyes on hers, they announced, "I have no fire with which to burn. Blood will work well and will lead our prey to us." It took every fiber of her being to not react to that statement, but by the gods she did it. She did, however, flinch as a tendril cracked like a whip over the boy's back. He screamed, his back arching in pain, and she almost winced.

He needed to relax before the next strike. It was worse when your muscles were taut. The shadowfell nodded to her and stood, waving a hand over her. She gasped as shadows crawled up and swallowed her briefly before releasing her and dissipating, taking all the dirt, dust, and sweat with them. She landed on her feet just as another whip cracked and another scream ripped through her ears, making her drop back into another low bow to wait for her next orders. Shit.

If they hadn't seen the mark before, they probably would now. Question was, would they recognize it? Pakos's voice was gruff with irritation in her mind. This is not how I envisioned you helping the children. Keeping her face carefully blank, she shot back that she was doing her damn best. The boy's punishment finally over, the tendrils dropped him with a thud, leaving him whimpering on the ground.

"I assume you know of treatments for such injuries, servant?"

"Yes, your highness," she intoned.

"Treat him. You have ten minutes. Then we continue to move east." She dipped lower before slowly pushing herself up and wincing at his flayed back and feet. Biting her lip, she trembled a little as she rose to her feet and ran back towards the log. A blade at her throat stopped her. The fell's voice was full of amusement as he said, "She cannot escape, Vorf. Let her be. I am curious to see what other secrets she holds." They knew. They absolutely knew.

She spared a thought to send a curse at the Skyian king for the gods damned bounty, then followed it with the begrudging appreciation that at least the bounty was for her alive and unharmed. The vampire who stopped her grunted but lowered her weapon as she bit out, "Not sure what secrets a greenling might have, my royal."

"You would be surprised." Squirt kept her head down as she trotted out to the log where she had been found, sniffing the air. She had noticed the presence of lok'vek yesterday, the smell of the bunch of small, white flowers rather distinct, almost like chamomile, and quickly found a bunch growing in a bright patch, a break in the canopy. Grabbing them, she ripped them out of the ground before returning at as quick of a pace as she could.

Knowing she didn't have long, she ripped the leaves off the stem, rinsed them using water from her waterskin, and began applying them to the bottom of his now shredded feet. He hissed and moaned in pain as she covered them in a generous layer, then grabbed the remains of his shirt to fashion him a pair of booties as quickly as she knew how.

Mentally, she tallied the seconds, having just enough time to use the last of her water to carefully rinse his back and start applying the leaves when one of the vampires gruffly called, "That's time. Get a move on, let's go." One of the teens took the lok'vek from her gently as another, the biggest and broadest of them, wordlessly picked up the injured one and threw him over his back. The girl gave Squirt a weak smile and whispered, "Just the leaves on the open wounds?" Squirt nodded.

The girl took over as the group began to move, being tall enough to still reach the boy's back while the other carried him. Another teen muttered with a condescending edge, "What exactly does he want you to train us on? How to treat lashings?" Squirt warily cast her gaze around before answering quietly under her breath, "The ancient ways. Ancient rules for propriety and interaction that govern us all." The girl who had taken the leaves murmured quietly, "Think about it, Walt. The way she bowed.

Not speaking unless asked a direct question."

"Yeah, but… why? I thought that stuff was all outdated, and anyway, isn't that for… well… fey like her?" Squirt didn't answer, though she had suspicions. The shadowfell was a royal. The Gloomwood was ruled by a powerful shadowfell, and they were headed east in that direction, while clearly laying a trap for someone to follow.

If she had to hazard a guess—Lord Prince Ranin or Lord Norland would be the target they intended to trap, possibly to gift their heads to the Skyian king, while they worked to assassinate or overthrow the Titled Gloomwood, it was hard to know which from what they had said alone. The "training" for the children? Petty satisfaction for some frankly troublesome victims to keep them in line. Probably.

The teens discussed it amongst themselves while the one carrying the now unconscious whipping victim said in a low voice, "What rules should we know?" It took her a solid minute to realize he was asking her. She recognized him as one of the ones to release if she got the chance. Her eyes returned forward, noting they likely had a long day of marching ahead of them. Plenty of time to get them up to speed on the basics. Ugh. Gods damned titled fey.