“Edita, Tyler, help with the prisoners.”
The captain’s voice, ringing over the clang of blades and muffled movement with ease. He had been talking before in low mutters, but now he speaks an order, and it carries well.
Both Edita and the man with the bow beside her respond to its call immediately, their heads snapping towards him. Immediately, Tyler salutes, offering only a quick, “Of course, Captain,” before hurrying back down the corridor. He must have been talking with Edita, for he gives me a wide berth, and his gaze is wary. Yet she does not follow, instead advancing on the captain.
“Why?” she asks. “I thought I was accompanying you in your meeting with the general. I witnessed… him, after all.”
A slight hush falls on the corridor, those closest to us peering over curiously. They must have guessed that I am being discussed, and they are all eager to know more. Save for Tyler, who I sense lingering just behind me. When I glance over at him, his hand drifts to his bow, as if he stands guard.
Perhaps he knew Oswin well. He must have done, for the length of his talk with Edita. He does not want any more of his friends to fall to the same fate.
I clench my fist, but that doesn’t prevent the tendril of flame that emerges. Only Tyler is paying close enough attention to me to notice it. He stiffens, before reaching for an arrow, plucking it from his bag and twirling it between his fingers.
Part of my begs to tell him that my flame is not a threat, and I do not intend to use it. Yet I know that whatever my intentions, it can still cause harm, and so I say nothing. I merely hope something of comfort is conveyed as our eyes meet.
He looks away quickly, his focus returning to the captain. I realise with a jolt that the tangle of my thoughts has drowned out his response to Edita’s defiance. Hurriedly, I follow Tyler’s gaze, pushing down any excess fire.
“No,” Edita snaps. Whatever the captain said, it must not have been what she wanted to hear. “I’m coming with you. I want my say on this.”
The captain’s expression is stony. “I know well of your opinions, Edita. There is no need for you to come.”
“Do I need to remind you that he murdered my brother?”
The place really does fall quiet then. A collective flinch ripples through any soldiers gathered, whether they are Neyaibet or imprisoned Oscensi, and I join them. Her brother. No wonder her fury runs so deep.
“You do not,” the captain says, his calm tone at odds with the icy tension. “I was also there.”
“Then let me--”
“No.” He takes a step towards her. His eyes seem to glow, their green harsh and bright, and they crumble her confident poise. “Your emotions are the very reason I need you to stay out of this.” When she tries to protest again, he reaches for his sword, and she gulps wordlessly. “I am your captain, Edita. You obey my orders. Now go with Tyler, and do not speak of this again.”
There is a pause. I expect her to fight back, but she only nods, her shoulders sagging. “Yes, Captain.”
“And Edita,” he adds as she backs away, “you can trust me.”
“I know.” She doesn’t look as sure as she sounds, but she says nothing more. She doesn’t even look at me as she passes. Her eyes are daggers, but they pierce the air ahead rather than me. Somehow, it is more unsettling.
“Kid, come here,” the captain calls before I can collect my thoughts. I look at him, aware of how frightened I must appear. My hands tremble with fire unreleased.
I nod, my throat too dry to form words. He waits until I am closer, and then waves a hand towards a pair of wide doors. Their rims are laced with trails of white, dancing and twirling in wide loops as if loose in a playful breeze, and interspersed with speckled gold that dips and rises with the patterned carvings. He steps forward, closing his palm around what I assume to be the door’s rounded handle.
It is strange how he says nothing to the others. He must be aware of the way they wait, the apprehension thickening the air. Either he is oblivious, or incredibly good at ignoring them. His shining green eyes rest only on me.
“Time for you to meet General Velez,” he says, his lips quirking in what might be a smile.
Before anyone can say any more, the door gives way beneath his grip, and he is striding through. I wait a moment, glancing back at Edita. She has her back to me, but I see the sword in her hand, pointed at one of the prisoners. Beside her, Tyler tests the point of his arrow. His stare sits unwaveringly on me, just as every other eye in the corridor seems to.
A cold shiver embraces my spine. Feeling for the open door, I pull away, running from the chase of their fear.
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