Romeria
Iregain consciousness lying next to a campfire, its blaze warming my back, its crackle snapping in my ears. My thoughts are dizzy, my head aching as if split open.
But the most concerning issue is the electric energy buzzing inside me.
Someone has taken my ring.
“Let her go, and you can have me.” The tremble in Pan’s voice betrays his brave words.
“We already have you.” Male laughter follows, a low and throaty and wicked sound. “Who is she, anyway?”
“Nobody. Just my keeper.”
“Why is she riding with those warriors?” someone else asks.
“Just coincidence. They were leaving Bellcross same time as us.”
“And they offered you both a ride? Is that it?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
“What’s your keeper’s name?” a third male asks, his words tinged with a strange and harsh accent.
“Diana.” Pan doesn’t miss a beat. “We were on our way home to our village and got caught up at the market later than expected. She runs a bakery and needs to be back before the morning to open up.” He’s quick on his feet with the lies—and convincing, I’ll give him that. Also, he could have outed me as a noblewoman to gain favor with these bandits, but he hasn’t … yet.
“A keeper who runs a bakery but wears a ring like this.”
I wish I could see these immortals who are speaking, but I don’t dare move until I can get more information.
Pan falters. “I don’t know where she got that.”
I struggle to calm my breathing and center myself, but it’s impossible under these conditions.
“Please, just let her go. I’m the mortal. She’s no good to you.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Heavy footfalls sound, and suddenly I’m flipped over. My head spins. “Oh good, you’re awake.”
It takes me a moment to focus on the dark, hateful eyes watching me with intense interest. The male surely lives on the fringes of society, his clothing tattered and marked with old blood and dirt, several days’ worth of stubble covering his jaw. “You see this face?” A grimy, strong hand grips my cheeks, squeezing. “I’ll bet the rest of her is pretty nice too.” His gaze drops down, sizing up my body.
I grimace.
“Oh, that doesn’t appeal to you?” He releases me.
I work the ache from my jaw. “Not particularly.”
He grins, exposing yellowed teeth. “Too bad, but don’t worry, I’ll enjoy it enough for the both of us.”
“I doubt that.” We’re in a stony enclave, surrounded by an overhang on three sides, with dense trees at the opening. It’s secluded. The fire won’t be visible if anyone’s looking for us.
A lanky, long-haired male sits next to Pan, keeping him in place with a dagger. The third male is perched on a rotten log opposite the fire, watching. He’s small and wiry, a sword strapped to his side. When our eyes meet, my gut tells me he’s the most dangerous one.
On instinct, I fumble for the sheath at my hip.
“Lookin’ for this?” The one who threatened me holds up my dagger, the brilliant silver blade gleaming in the firelight.
I stifle my curse. Of course, they would take my dagger along with my ring.
“A valuable weapon for a baker. Where’d you get it?”