“Gone,” Jarvik answered, folding his arms across his chest. “Guess we’ll have to walk the rest of the way to Russek. It’s a shame it’ll take us a lot longer to get there now.”
The assassin released her arm and stalked over to him. “Where is my saddlebag?” He kept all his medicines, along with his paralyzing substance, in that bag.
Jarvik shrugged. “Don’t know. Was it strapped to your horse?”
The assassin roughly patted him down, searching for anything that might have been stolen from the saddlebag before the horses were cut loose.
Allyssa took a step back, preparing to escape while the assassin was distracted. Jarvik shook his head infinitesimally. Instinct told her to run; her heart told her to trust him. He had to have a plan, although she had no idea what it was.
“Well played,” the assassin said. “Except…you should never attempt to outsmart me. I don’t take well to such situations. Let this be a lesson to you.”
Cold fear slithered down her spine as he turned to face her. She took a step back, away from him, cursing herself for not running when she had the opportunity. Jarvik lunged for the assassin, but he stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding him. Quick as a rattlesnake, the assassin’s hand shot out, grabbing her upper arm. He twisted around so his chest was to her back. His free hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing. Her foot smashed down on top of his. His grip loosened, and she rammed her elbow into his stomach. Jarvik dove for the assassin’s legs, snatching one of the small daggers strapped to his boot.
The assassin unsheathed his sword, the sound of metal slicing through the air. He dug the tip into her stomach, and she cried out in surprise as the cold steel pressed against her skin. “Freeze,” the assassin demanded.
Lying on the ground, Jarvik had the dagger in hand, poised to throw. She saw him weighing the risks, calculating. The assassin dug the tip in deeper, puncturing her skin.
“Drop the dagger and stand up.”
Jarvik did as instructed.
“Don’t listen to him!” she yelled. “Fight!” The assassin might hurt her to keep Jarvik in line or to prevent him from escaping, but he wouldn’t kill her.
Jarvik shook his head.
“Take another step back,” the assassin demanded. Jarvik complied. The assassin chuckled. “I’m not blind,” he purred, a slow, devilish smile spreading across his face. He grabbed Allyssa’s hair and forced her head to tilt to the side. “I see the way you look at her.” He pressed his lips to her neck, making her want to vomit. When she tried to move out of his grip, the sword dug deeper into her stomach. Blood dripped down her skin.
“Get off her,” Jarvik snarled. He stepped forward, and the sword went further into her flesh. She screamed from the searing pain, and Jarvik took a step back, raising his arms in surrender, his face turning white.
“I only have to deliver her alive,” the assassin crooned. “If I want a taste, I’ll take it.”
“I’ll kill you.” Jarvik’s voice shook, enshrouded with a mixture of terror and fury.
The assassin laughed. “Like I said before—I’m the one in charge, not you. If you try to escape or say something I don’t like, she pays for your mistake. Are we clear?”
Jarvik nodded.
“She is quite beautiful,” the assassin mumbled before kissing her neck again. Tears slid down Allyssa’s cheeks. How could she be at the mercy of this evil man? His lips moved to her ear. “And you, my dear,” he whispered, nibbling on her earlobe. “If you don’t cooperate, if you try to harm me in any way, I will have my way with you.”
“You’re a pig,” she growled. “One day, you’re going to die like one, and I plan to be there to see it.”
He chuckled as he removed the sword from her stomach and pointed it northward. “Start walking,” he ordered. Without hesitating, Jarvik obeyed. “You next,” he said to Allyssa, shoving her away from him. “Keep at least five feet between the two of you.”
Gathering the fabric of her shirt, she pressed it against the puncture wound in her stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. The three of them walked in silence for the remainder of the day as they traveled north along the edge of the Bizantek Forest.
***
Allyssa rubbed her blistered and swollen feet. Walking for the past eight days had taken a toll on her body. She leaned against the tree trunk, thankful to be sitting. The sun had already set; night encroaching upon them.
The assassin tied Jarvik’s hands and feet together and then wrapped the rope around the tree, securing him in place. Once finished, he did the same to her before slinking away between the trees. They only had ten minutes or so until he returned with whatever animal he managed to catch for food.
She coughed, wanting Jarvik to look at her. When he finally did, she murmured, “Tonight.”
“Not until we’re closer to a town or village,” he whispered.
“We are almost at the Emperion border. Fia is just over that ridge. It has to be tonight.”
He nodded and looked away again. That was the most they’d spoken since the assassin threatened her with his sword.
She had just started to nod off when the assassin returned. After skinning a fat rabbit, he cooked it over the fire. Allyssa’s mouth watered, and her stomach grumbled. While he made sure to feed them, it was by no means enough considering the amount of walking they’d been doing over the course of the past week. Once the meat was done, he handed one small piece to her and one to Jarvik. She ate her portion, licking her fingers clean.
After the assassin finished eating, he put the fire out. She wished he’d let it burn while they slept since he’d discarded her cape so he could see her hands at all times. Wearing only pants and a tunic wasn’t nearly enough to keep the chilly air at bay through the night. At least the wounds on her neck and stomach had scabbed over.
The assassin came over to Allyssa and untied her from the tree, securing the rope to his waist instead.
“Is this really necessary?” They’d been sleeping this way ever since they lost the horses last week. However, if Allyssa and Jarvik were to escape tonight, she needed to be away from the assassin—not tied to him so he could sense when she moved. “Why not keep me secured to a tree like Jarvik?”
“Because I enjoy making Prince Odar jealous.”
“You’re mistaken,” she said. “Jarvik doesn’t care.”
“It is you who are mistaken,” he said. “I see the look of pain on the prince’s face, and I relish in it.”
Did this man have no morals? She couldn’t understand what had happened to make him so cruel and vulgar. Or was he born this way?
“Do you think it wise to sleep so close to me?” she asked, sidling up next to him. “What if I manage to unsheathe your dagger and kill you in your sleep?”
“I’m certain you won’t,” he replied, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “Or else you would have done it by now.” He grabbed her chin, pinching it. “You don’t have it in you to murder someone who is peacefully sleeping.”