Wyrd Blood



At two hundred feet away, I could make out the black banner that flew above the encampment. At a hundred and fifty feet, I could see the shape of a flame on it. Of all the slavers, it had to be him? And I knew it was him, because no one else would dare steal another slaver’s brand.

That flame shape was burned onto every slave’s shoulder. Reputation was big to slavers. You didn’t want to be known for selling sick slaves. They came and went through most of the countries with impunity. That would disappear quickly if they sold damaged goods.

The closer we got, the farther I inched backward. By the time we were standing in front of their encampment, I was at the back of our small group. Just seeing the place made my breathing hitch, and I’d avoided looking toward the center, where the slaves would be kept.

Two slavers stepped forward on our approach, both with nasty-looking swords in their hands.

“We have business to do. Get Mathan,” Ryker informed them, an arrogance in his tone that came from having people always follow his commands—or most people, anyway.

Mathan. I edged farther to my right, partially obscuring myself behind Ryker’s back, hoping the slaver would say Mathan wasn’t available. He didn’t. He turned to do Ryker’s bidding, not questioning what he was there for. The other slaver remained and waited beside our group, a hand on his sword.

The slaver returned a few minutes later, and I saw a familiar face alongside him. The brown hair was now streaked with grey and the face was lined with wrinkles, but it was him.

Maybe he’d send his men as an escort and never even notice me. I kept my head down, praying for invisibility, and thought about latching on to Sneak.

Mathan stopped in front of our group. “Ryker, my man said you were here to do business.”

His voice was the same as I remembered. Even the gloating tone because Ryker needed something from him was classic Mathan.

Ryker tensed in front of me, his magic shooting up a couple of notches. “Why are you looking at her? You’re dealing with me.”

Without even looking up, I knew Mathan had seen me. He knew. He recognized me after all these years. Ruck moved closer to my side until I felt his arm brush mine.

I wasn’t that person anymore. It didn’t matter what he said. Except I was so tough I couldn’t even look at him?

“I’d recognize that hair anywhere.” Mathan laughed. It was a sound that haunted me in my nightmares. “She’s one of mine. You have my property.”

They were closing ranks around me, Burn on my other side and Sneak taking up the rear.

“I told you. Stop looking at her. She’s not yours.” I’d never heard Ryker’s voice go so deep and soft, as if the magic in his veins was leaking out into his voice.

I was surrounded and I still wouldn’t meet his eyes? No. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I lifted my head, staring at him.

“Yes, she is.” The slaver was so intent on me that he didn’t see Ryker’s expression changing. He didn’t feel the magic swelling because he couldn’t.

Burn did, though, because I heard him say, “Oh fuck,” under his breath.

“I looked for you for a long time. Where did you run off to?” Mathan asked, taunting me.

I wasn’t a child anymore. I wasn’t helpless. I grabbed the dagger at my side and moved toward him, and no one stopped me.

A fleeting thought came into my head, and I wondered if this would cost me my deal with Ryker. Then I moved forward anyway.

“Aw, she thinks she can hurt me.” The slaver laughed back to the men with him. He was an idiot to not notice he was the only one laughing. Mathan turned to Ryker. “You know you’re going to have to pay me for her, right?”

I didn’t make it to the slaver in time. I heard the swish of a sword and the slaver was doubling over, grasping his stomach.

We were seriously outnumbered. I couldn’t see everyone at the camp, but I saw enough that it was at least ten to one, if I didn’t count the people who had slave markings. This was about to be a bloodbath. I glanced back, looking for Burn, who had already caught up to me, ready.

Ryker took the lead, moving to meet two men who were already rushing at us. Ryker moved so fast that the first man ran straight into his sword before he saw it. Ryker pulled the sword free and swung it until it took the next man’s head clear off.

Maybe we weren’t so outnumbered. The other slavers must’ve felt the same, because the assault stopped. Both groups stood facing off for a moment, and then the slavers who had rushed to the area at the sign of trouble slowly backed away.

“Finish him,” Ryker said, pointing his bloody sword toward Mathan, who was squirming on the ground, whimpering.

I realized Ryker had left him alive intentionally for me. Mathan looked up at me. “Please, don’t do this. I wasn’t that bad to you.”

I thought back to the three years I’d been with him.

“Not that bad? You were a monster,” I whispered so only he could hear.

I moved forward, intending to thrust my dagger upward, right underneath his breastbone. It was too clean a death for him. I kicked him onto his back and held him there with a heel on his shoulder. Dagger in hand, I carved an X into his stomach, from one rib to his hipbone. There was no coming back after that.



Ryker didn’t ask me anything as we walked. No one did. It was almost worse, because the only reason they weren’t asking was because they already knew. They were probably imagining the worst, and I didn’t try and stop them. Stopping them would include speaking to them about it.

Burn fell into step beside Ryker. “Couldn’t you have done that after they smuggled us across?”

“No,” Ryker said.

“Well, we can’t enter with the slavers anymore, since none of them are going to want to help us after we left their leader bleeding to death. How are we getting close enough now?” Burn asked.

“I’ve got a problem with that,” Sneak said.

I whipped my head in Sneak’s direction. He had a problem with me killing Mathan? He knew I’d been a slave to that monster, and he had a problem with me slicing his stomach open?

Sneak continued, oblivious to me. “Your logic is way off. The slaver is definitely dead by now. No way he’s still bleeding out.”

I stopped, giving Sneak my death stare. He was right. No way Mathan was still alive after what I’d done. I should’ve been less aggressive so it took longer.

“He could still be alive,” Burn said.

“No way. Did you see the amount of blood? Were you even looking?” Sneak was getting agitated.

Their quarrel almost put a smile on my face. This was a really good argument.

“Let’s make camp,” Ryker said as we neared the perimeter of the forest again, no one knowing if we were going to continue north tomorrow.

I threw down my sack and headed toward the sound of the stream. Ryker’s eyes followed me as he stood beside Ruck, talking. I glanced over and our eyes met; the intensity in his stare was so strong that I nearly tripped as I turned and walked away.

I rinsed off for a good long while, hoping the sun would set sooner rather than later. It would be easier to sit at camp in partial darkness and not have to worry about strange looks coming my way.



I heard someone approach, but they held no magic. Ruck squatted beside me, cupping his hands in the water and taking a sip before shaking them out.

I kept my eyes trained on the ripples of water passing. “Was he asking questions?”

“Yeah.”

I dipped my hand in again, forcing the water to part around my fingers. “And?”

“And nothing. I don’t know enough myself to say much. I might’ve told him about the day we met, though.”

Might’ve? That meant he’d told him everything he knew.

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