CHAPTER 13

When the sound of the horn faded, Adric frantically patted his pockets until he pulled out a key. He threw it at the, to Etta, still unknown man as he spoke to Emerald, “I have to get Immy!” His cool demeanor had vanished, replaced by wide eyed panic, and the color drained out of his face. Lost. Worried. Frightened. Personal walls and defenses crumbled.

“Go!” Emerald said. When he disappeared into the crowd of people running outside, she turned to Etta again. “We still have a deal?”

“Aye.” No reluctance marred Etta’s words.

Emerald sighed. The burden of her responsibility, of protecting her people and hunting down those that threatened them, slithered across her features. It passed so quickly that Etta almost didn’t notice and then the woman pushed her shoulders back and tilted her chin up.

“Remove the chain, Tarin,” Emerald said to the dark-haired man with the key. He nodded and obeyed. Behind them, Goran gathered papers and rolled up the maps as he limped around the table.

Etta was holding out her hands to Tarin when a woman with flowing golden hair ran inside, clutching to her chest a mix of leather pieces and metal plates.

“Valerie!” Emerald’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here? You should be in the mill with the rest already.”

“I had to get your armor, and wanted to see if you’d left.” The blonde pressed the bundle into Emerald’s chest as she rose on her tiptoes, stealing a quick kiss from the taller woman.

Hands free, Etta rubbed her wrists then fisted her hands at her sides. Fingers brushed the side of her leather pants where her tachi usually rested. The wave of anticipation surged through her veins, building up to the familiar storm of excitement and addictive fear. Her heart drummed a crescendo. She glanced over her shoulder and the throng of people panicking outside, expecting to see the monsters, hands twitching with the need to wield her weapons.

 “You done?” Emerald’s voice drew Etta’s attention to the man crouched before her feet.

 “Done!”

“Go to the mill.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tarin spun on his heel and ran out.

“We have to hurry,” Emerald said as she fetched her axes. When Etta turned to head out, Emerald added, “You’re coming with us.”

Etta hesitated for a moment, but halted at the tent flap. She scanned the outside for any signs of danger hiding in the shadows untouched by the flickering light of the torches. She wanted to charge out and kill as many as possible of the oncoming abominations, but she had no weapons, and she had made promises. Once they reached the mill, she would find a way to fight. She had to. Feet shuffling nervously, she looked back. Goran clutched the maps and papers in his arms as Valerie blew out the lamps on the beams. Emerald brushed past Etta and led the way out.

“I need my weapons,” Etta hissed as she followed the wave of people heading for the stone mill; men, women, children, even some animals being ushered along.

“No time now. Adric has them in his tent,” Emerald said over her shoulder and she urged Valerie to quicken her pace as the golden haired woman stopped to pick up a stray puppy.

Etta’s gaze darted about as the tension among the people rose. Hurried steps, tripping feet, crying children, shushing mothers. A patch of bright red… no, the familiar orange disappeared out of her sight as she passed by one of the canvas homes. She veered of the path, easily weaving her way through the horde.

“Where are you going!?” Goran half limped-half hopped after her, bumping into people, elbowing his way through to follow her along.

Etta ignored him, a new kind of fear urging her on. As she rounded the corner of the tent, where she had seen the bright flaming color, a little girl huddled on the ground. Her knees pulled up, head tucked low, small hands covering ears.

Etta dropped to her knees and hesitantly reached out for the girl. “Imogen…” she said as she placed her hands on Imogen’s forearms and pulled her closer.

Imogen raised her head. She wiped away the tears wetting her cheeks, adding another smudge of dirt hiding her freckles. Her chin trembled.

“Come with me. We’ll find your daddy.”

Imogen crawled into Etta’s awaiting embrace, and wrapped her tiny hands around Etta’s neck.

“Where did you—Oh!” Goran caught up with Etta. His eyes widened at the sight. “Come on, we need to hurry. Adric is probably looking for her at the mill.”

Etta nodded. She stood up with Imogen still clinging to her neck, and the girl wrapped her legs around Etta’s waist. They followed the tail of people rushing into the stone house. The building loomed two floors high, three small windows dotting the higher tier, as Etta jogged in with Imogen in her arms. Goran limped behind them at a slower pace.

The crowd of people overwhelmed Etta. She spun. Once. Twice, her eyes darting about, and each time the room shrunk. Men, women, children and animals brushed past her, around her, away and toward her. A scream to her right, a name called out to her left, behind her orders commanded. The words, she didn’t understand. Her grasp on Imogen tightened when a ringing in her ears drowned out all the other sounds. She stopped moving but everything continued to spin. Faces close, then far. The room grew even smaller yet. Etta’s heart pounded, adding a deep, fast beat to the buzzing in her ears. She panted, fighting to breathe in much precious air that the throng of people stole from her lungs.

She held on to Imogen as the girl clung to her in return. Imogen whimpered, protesting the tight embrace and Etta forced her arms to relax, but her muscles never uncoiled. Too many people and animals in a space growing smaller, the walls closing in on her, the air escaping out through the still wide open wooden doors.

Never had she ever felt so trapped. Her lungs burned, and her vision blurred. Etta turned toward the doors, needing to escape, needing the freedom of space promising to give back the ability to breathe.

She took a step. Light blue eyes appeared before her. Lips moved, but no words reached her. Hands extended toward Imogen, but Etta recoiled. She had to get out to safety. She had to keep Imogen safe. She would protect the child. She wouldn’t let anything or anyone harm her. She wouldn’t let her die… not like she had abandoned her Rye.

If only she had her tachi to fight the way out. To fight away the demons.

Warm palms on her cheeks forced her gaze away from the closing door to the worried, azure irises. He leaned in and whispered, “Breathe.” The quiet spoken word broke through the ringing in her ears and Etta inhaled a lungful of air. She closed her eyes and concentrated on evening out her breaths, the thudding in her head lessening. The soft touch to her face grounded her, offered comfort.

“Good,” the voice registered again. “Open your eyes.”

Etta obeyed. Adric stood before her, and when his face cleared in her vision, she nodded and he removed his hands.

“Now… look around you.”

Etta watched the chaos surrounding her morph into order. Amazed, she witnessed that it all had a purpose, everyone had a task. Children were ushered up the stairs, followed by mothers or fathers of the panicking younglings. Other men and women lined up next to a big chest where weapons were handed out by a sharp looking woman. The cows seemed to have been there from before, nervously mooing and shuffling in their stalls. Chickens fluttered in their pens, roused from their evening sleep, and pigs were rushed into a caged off area. The whole time, Emerald kept an ever vigilant eye on the people as she donned her armor with Valerie’s help. Two men guarded the double wooden doors, only one wing left open.

“Do you see now?” Adric’s voice drew Etta’s attention back to him.

“Yes.”

“Good. Can I have my daughter now?”

“Yes! I’m sorry. It’s just—”

“I understand,” Adric said, and he placed his hand gently on Imogen’s back. “Immy? It’s daddy.”

With one hand, Etta reached for Imogen’s arm wrapped around her neck, pulling it away. “Hey, little-girl-that-asks-a-lot-of-questions, your father is here.”

Imogen shook her head, smearing the tears and snot into Etta’s skin.

Adric soothed his hand in small circles on Imogen’s back. “What happened?”

“On our way here I found her hiding behind one of the tents.”

A tormented, sad expression spread over Adric’s features.

“Thank you for getting her,” he said to Etta, and then he spoke to his daughter in a soft voice, “Imogen, I’ve got you now. You’re safe. I won’t let anyone take you away or harm you. Daddy’s here. It’s alright.” He unwound small arms from around Etta, and Imogen went willingly to her father. “Everything will be alright,” he cooed as Imogen wrapped herself around him just as she had been clinging to Etta. She burrowed her head in his neck, hiding away from the rest of the world.

“Where should I—” Etta started but two riders burst in through the door and the guards shut it, two others placing a sturdy wooden latch into its catch.

A horse reared. Etta took a step back and behind Adric as the rider soothed the distressed animal. Adric glanced over his shoulder at Etta and she just shrugged.

Emerald approached when the horses settled and the riders dismounted. A young woman took over the reins and led the animals away.

“What’s happening out there?” Emerald said. “How many?”

One of the riders, a woman with dark hair pulled back in a braid and a wide eyed look, spoke first. “It’s the crawlers,” she panted, catching her breath, “I sounded the horn as soon as I saw them. I couldn’t tell how many…” she paused and glanced at the other rider as if seeking reassurance. He nodded back, so she continued. “Couldn’t tell how many because some kind of fog followed them, hiding most.”

“Fog?!” Etta stepped forward, and the attention shifted to her. “Show me! I need you to show me.”

Emerald narrowed her eyes. “What do you know?”

“If it’s the same fog… the crawlers are the least of our worries.”

The people milling about quieted and stopped to listen, fear evident on their faces.

“We’ll go see and discuss what to do once we know what we’re up against. No need to panic unnecessarily,” Emerald said. “Figren,” she called out to the woman who had just finished distributing the weapons. Figren nodded in acknowledgment, grabbed a bow and a quiver filled with arrows, and then jogged to Emerald’s side.

Etta sized up the new woman; taller than her of course, with short black hair framing a sharp yet elegant face. Her steps were lithe and she moved with the grace of a nimble cat. Etta stared, the woman truly was beautiful, and those golden orbs peered at her from below the dark fringe, reminding her of Rye.

Emerald turned to the riders again. “Thank you, Bonnie. You did good on the watch tonight. You and Mike go find your family, recoup and then report to Goran.” The two nodded and walked away.

“Tarin, Adric, Figren,” Emerald continued, “You’re coming up with us.” She turned on her heel and headed upstairs, expecting the rest to follow.

Tarin and Figren needn’t been told twice but Adric and Etta lingered a moment. He still held Imogen in his arms, the young girl asleep now, exhausted by the panic attack. Etta sympathized, for she felt the same fatigue threatening to pull her into the oblivion of sleep but the anticipation, the excitement, the need to act held it at bay.

“Will she be alright?” Etta said, surprised by the fact that she cared.

Adric sighed. He kissed the side of Imogen’s head. “She should be. I’ll leave her with Samantha.”

Etta nodded and then led the way upstairs where Emerald had gone.