Children with Stars in their Veins (Chapter 22.2)

a/n: hey, thanks for checking out Starry Veins! This is the novel I wrote for Round V of LMS, and it's still a first draft! While I don't discourage any feedback, I prefer not to receive feedback on grammar! I'm not polishing this draft up yet, so I'm not as concerned about editing. I am, of course, open to all feedback, but I ask that you keep this in consideration! Thanks <3

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His heart slammed in his chest and he stared wild-eyed up at the stranger. He carefully braced himself on the elbow, conscious of the incredibly sharp metal resting on his throat.

“It’s okay, Mesa,” he whispered, hoping she could hear him. He was shaking and trying hard to hold himself still.

Artemesa growled, baring her tiny, partially grown fangs.

“Sky Mother above, you named that thing?” The man eyed Artemesa and wrinkled his nose. “What is it?”

Indignation flared in his chest, but before he could say anything, he heard the crashing of undergrowth. He twisted, cautiously, in time to see Ember burst out of the trees forming a tight line as if coming together to form a wall. She stumbled onto the road, and then twisted to look over at them.

“I heard Artemesa—” she began, and then blinked. Immediately, her expression darkened.

The stranger shifting, standing half between him where he lay and Ember, fuming, on the road ahead of them. “Not another step closer.”

She glowered. “Who’re you?”

The man grunted. “Not the business of the strange girl who was stupid enough to wander into the Wilderlands.”

Ember edged forward, eyes bright and burning. They almost looked orange under the rays of the sun. “Let my friend go,” she said, voice steely.

“I don’t think so,” said the gruff stranger, looking between Artemesa and Ember. Artemesa slunk her way to Ember, head low and snarling. “Where do you two come from anyway?”

“Not the business of a horrible man holding my friend at sword point,” Ember replied, nose crinkled so much that her teeth were bared like she, too, was snarling.

The sword bit into his throat purposefully, and for a second, he believed he was really going to die right then and there.

“The Chroniclers’ Guild!” he cried, shying away from the awful blade. Something prickled against his throat, before sliding down his skin. “The Chroniclers’ Guild,” he repeated, softly, like it would be his shield against the cruel edge of the blade.

The stranger didn’t even spare him a glance, locked in a malicious staring contest with Ember.

“What’s a pair of bloody kids doing in the Wilderlands with no parents and… an overgrown bird?” he asked, nodding towards Artemesa. She snapped her jaws.

“We were attacked,” he said, pulling away until the sword was no longer against his throat. The man wasn’t looking anyway. “And Artemesa’s my friend. And she’s not a bird either.”

Was it smarter to withhold Artemesa’s identity? Mishal’s words echoed in his head. Society is too enamoured by the idea of exploitative profits and killing beautiful things.

“And the two of you? What’re your names?”

Ember folded her arms over her chest, mouth pinching. “Ember. That’s Cassius you’re about to run through. Now will you let him go? Neither of us have done anything to you.”

The stranger finally turned from her, glancing off to the trees. His face twisted like he had eaten something rotten. “I… know places. I could get good coin for the two of you, and probably for the feathered mutt.”

“You’re going to sell us?”

The man winced nearly imperceptibly, and then shook his head. “Need to earn a living somehow.”

Then, without prompting, he bent down and sheathed his sword. Before Cassius could try to scramble up and run, the man had grabbed his shoulder and hauled him to his feet. Then, with one of his hands, grabbed both of Cassius’ wrists and held them. The man pulled out a strand of rope and began to tie his hands together, none too gently.

“Em, run!” he said, wriggling against the binding.

She eyed him, edging forward again, her eyes still alight. “I’m not leaving you.”

He yanked a hand away, but the man caught it as quickly as it had fallen from his grasp. “Go,” he urged desperately.

Ember stared at them, stubbornly not taking her chance to run. “No. If he binds you, he’s going to have to bind me too.”

“Squirm anymore and you’ll find that I have daggers to stick in your back as well as my sword,” the man grumbled.

Cassius froze.

And then he was bound, and his hands and arms were already hurting. Artemesa hung her neck, looking as sullen as he felt, like she had been tied up right along with him.

“You’ve got noble’s wrists. How do I know you’re not some lord’s boy?” the stranger asked, letting his hands fall against his back. The man then approached Ember without waiting for a response.

Ember made no move to flee as the man approached, but as he got close enough and pulled out another strand of rope, she whirled and brought her knee up between his legs.

She spun and made to run for him, but even doubled over, the man lashed out and wrapped a muscled arm around his torso. She shrieked and wriggled like a feral cat, slamming her fists into the arm restraining her and kicking out.

With what seemed like little effort on his part, the man thrust her to the ground and knelt beside her, his palm keeping her flush on the road. “You must have a very small brain to be doing so many stupid things in such a short span on time.”

“You can’t hold us!” Ember screamed, wriggling as he made quick word of tying her hands behind her back. “You can’t hurt us!”

The man pulled her to her feet, and pulled out yet another, longer strand of rope. He tied it around her bindings, and then approached Cassius, and tied it to his. He gave it a yank, and they were jostled together. Ember spit at him.

He pulled them towards Artemesa and hesitated a moment before pulling out a thick strap of cloth. “Tell your beast that whatever it tries on me will come back double on you.”

“She can hear you,” Cassius grumbled. “And she’s not an it, and her name’s Artemesa.”

“I don’t care if her name’s Spinebreaker.” The man used to the cloth and wrapped it twice around Artemesa’s snout before tying it firmly above her nose.

Artemesa watched him with such an intense anger that even Cassius shuddered. The wrath of the dragon was a terrible one. If she was only a little older…

“Let’s go,” said the man, turning from them and giving their ropes a tug. “I want to reach an outpost before nightfall.”

word count:

1,076