Page 16 of Lich's Mate

Several guards watch the caravan—far too many for me to adequately dispatch them. If I jump in now, I’m going to be easily handled. And then my mission will be over before it’s even started, my family legacy ending in obscurity.

My feet carry me forward. Thankfully, the caravan is not moving too quickly. Before it can find its rhythm, it catches on a jagged mound or has to roll over a small stump.

I think about the human prisoners contained within—its cargo—and I can’t imagine their discomfort.

Not even their cages are suitable for the job. Gorran has put them in dirty, decrepit cages made of wood that are far too small for them. I think the wood might even be splintered. Even the most pitiful of creatures on Aerasak don’t deserve this sort of maltreatment.

I seethe, my nostrils flaring.

He wants to run these grand, large-scale operations, but he has no respect for the details. He’ll do whatever he can to cut corners.

And I’m going to make sure he suffers for it.

Perhaps naturally, he would have collapsed under his own hubris had this caravan perished in the face of wild monsters or bad weather. But I’m going to speed up the process. I can’t trust the world to make sense anymore.

Huh?

Atop a large hill, the caravan comes to another stop.

Have I been spotted?

I cling closer to the treeline just in case, maneuvering carefully among the sharp branches that graze along my skin.

But as I perk my ears up, listening for hints of the disruption, it becomes immediately apparent.

A curly red-haired human woman rattles her cage, begging for water. It started out as a mere unheard plea, but it seems that she might have fallen prey to panic.

Just deal with it. You’re not far from the city.

Stop pissing them off.

But immediately, I notice as one of the xaphan captors returns to the back, his agitation evident in his steps.

As the grass crunches beneath his feet, the long whip in his hand swirls behind him like a tail.

Still, the woman is oblivious, not seeing that she’s about to be punished.

I’ve seen humans killed for far less.

The xaphan draws back his whip, as the other captives hold their breath, and swats the woman as hard as he can.

It slaps into her wrist with an impact that’s deafening even from here.

That might have broken bones.

He draws back his whip again and slaps it forward one more time.

It’s difficult to see from here, but I think I see a trickle of blood fall from her wrist as she grips it. I can imagine it throbbing. I can feel the pain of the impact as it replays in my mind again.

And yet, he could have killed her.

“Now, we don’t like damaging the cargo,” the guard says, in a half-hearted apology. “But if you don’t shut up, there’s a lot more where that came from. We’ve got a long way to go yet.”

I look out at the distant horizon, see the faint silhouette of the city, and realize how far I had to walk to get here.

I can see the faintest glimmers of sunlight breaching the horizon. Already, morning approaches.

This should have been dealt with already. I didn’t think this would be an all-night task. But there’s not much I can do now.