Chapter 4: Danger

The sounds outside changed.

At first, the battle had been noise.

Metal striking metal. Shouts. Feet pounding over packed earth. Orders being screamed somewhere beyond the walls. The ugly chorus of people trying very hard not to die.

But after standing inside Clyr's house long enough, listening while every clash seemed to creep closer, I started noticing the difference.

Our side was getting quieter.

The other side was not.

That was probably the least encouraging mathematical equation I had ever solved.

Another scream cut through the night.

Then something heavy crashed outside.

A child flinched beside his mother.

An elderly woman whispered a prayer under her breath.

Nobody needed to say it.

The villagers were losing.

Badly.

I stared at the barred door.

My hands had been clenched so tightly that my fingernails were digging into my palms.

I told myself to stay put.

Clyr had ordered me to.

Gran had ordered me to.

Kol had practically shoved me toward the house.

And logically, they were right.

I had no combat training.

No magic.

No weapon.

No useful knowledge about the people attacking us.

I was basically a handsome civilian with excellent confidence and absolutely terrible qualifications.

Then another cry came from outside.

Closer.

I started walking toward the door.

One of the women noticed.

"Caled?"

I kept moving.

Her voice sharpened.

"Where are you going?"

My hand closed around the wooden bar.

I did not look back.

"I'm about to make a decision that future me is going to insult me for."

"What?"

I lifted the bar.

"Something very stupid."

"That is not an answer!"

"It's the most accurate answer I have."

Another woman stood.

"Clyr told you to stay here."

"I know."

"Then stay!"

I pulled the door open.

Cool night air hit my face.

Behind me, someone called my name again.

I stepped outside anyway.

I honestly did not know what possessed me.

Back on Earth, I had never been brave.

I was not heroic.

I was the kind of man who saw trouble coming and immediately checked whether the building had a rear exit.

If some idiot started a bar fight, I was not the guy who stepped between two angry men and delivered a speech about peace.

I was the guy protecting his drink while moving somewhere with fewer flying chairs.

Heroism had never been part of my résumé.

Neither had self-sacrifice.

Yet something inside me refused to stay in that house.

It was not courage.

At least, it did not feel like courage.

It felt more like an itch buried behind my ribs.

A pressure.

Something pushing me forward while every reasonable instinct grabbed the furniture and screamed, "No, we live here now!"

I hated it.

Mostly because it was winning.

Then I saw the village.

And any joke my brain had prepared died quietly.

Silverclaw was losing.

Not struggling.

Not barely holding.

Losing.

Overwhelmingly.

Several sections of the barricade had been broken open. Lamps had been knocked over, throwing warped shadows across the ground. Wolfkin fighters lay scattered between houses, some injured, others unconscious. Those still standing were being pushed backward by attackers who clearly knew exactly what they were doing.

The attackers were Beastkin too.

But nothing like the Wolfkin.

They looked far more animal than human.

They walked upright on two legs, but their bodies were covered in coarse fur. Their faces were unmistakably hyena, with broad muzzles, dark noses, rounded ears, and jaws packed with teeth that showed whenever they laughed.

And they laughed a lot.

Wonderful.

Apparently nightmare hyenas had discovered armor.

They wore actual metal protection over their torsos and shoulders, far better equipment than most of Silverclaw's defenders.

Several captured villagers were already being tied together.

My stomach tightened.

So that was what enslavers meant.

Not a dramatic nickname.

Not cultural misunderstanding.

Actual enslavers.

One Hyenakin shoved a bound villager onto his knees.

Another dragged someone by the arms.

Then I saw Clyr.

She was near the center of the village.

Fighting the largest Hyenakin there.

And when I say largest, I mean somebody had apparently taken an ordinary hyena, fed it violence for breakfast, and then encouraged it to pursue bodybuilding.

He towered over her.

Broad shoulders.

Thick arms.

Heavy armor.

A massive sword in his hands.

Clyr fought with her spear and shield, but I arrived too late to see most of it.

The Hyenakin's blade smashed against her shield.

The impact knocked it from her hand.

She staggered.

He kicked her spear aside.

Another blow sent her to one knee.

My feet stopped.

Clyr tried to stand.

The Hyenakin slammed the flat of his sword against her shoulder and forced her back down.

He laughed.

"Bind the chief."

Two of his men moved forward.

The leader grabbed Clyr by the hair and tilted her face upward.

"And keep her separate from the others. I'll be entertaining myself with her tonight."

His laugh that followed was so filthy it somehow needed a bath.

Clyr glared up at him.

"Go choke on your own tongue."

The Hyenakin grinned.

"Still barking?"

"Come closer and I'll bite."

"I might enjoy that."

Okay.

I had officially heard enough.

I stepped farther into the open.

One of the Hyenakin noticed me first.

Then another.

The movement spread until faces began turning in my direction.

Wolfkin too.

Even Clyr looked toward me.

For one very awkward second, an entire battlefield seemed to collectively wonder who had invited the office worker.

I raised one hand.

"Yo."

Silence.

The large Hyenakin stared.

Then his eyes narrowed.

"A Spriggan?"

Clyr's expression went from surprise to immediate anger.

"Caled!"

"Nice to see you're alive too."

"I told you to stay inside!"

I gestured toward the captured villagers.

"Yes, I reviewed that plan."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because judging by the ropes, I figured my choices were walk out myself or wait until these charming gentlemen came inside and dragged me out."

"This isn't a joke!"

"I know."

That came out more serious than I intended.

Clyr noticed.

So did I.

A weak voice reached me from the ground.

"Caled..."

I turned.

Gran was lying several steps away.

Blood ran down one side of his face. His spear was gone.

He struggled to lift his head.

"Run."

I stared at him.

"You can't... do anything here."

Before I could answer, the Hyenakin leader stepped over and planted one heavy foot against Gran's back.

Gran grunted.

Something hot moved through my chest.

The leader laughed.

"The dog is right."

He pressed down harder.

"You can't do anything."

I stopped smiling.

The Hyenakin looked me over with open amusement.

"A lone Spriggan? What will you do without your little friends? Flutter your invisible wings at me?"

Several Hyenakin laughed.

He spread his arms.

"Perhaps you'll tickle me until I surrender."

More laughter.

I looked at Gran beneath his boot.

Then back at him.

"Take your foot off him."

The laughter softened.

The leader tilted his head.

"What?"

"I know your ears are round, but I assumed they still worked."

His grin disappeared slightly.

I pointed at Gran.

"Move your foot."

Clyr hissed, "Caled, stop."

The leader slowly lifted his boot from Gran.

Not because I had intimidated him.

Because he wanted to give me his full attention.

Somehow that felt worse.

He raised his enormous sword onto one shoulder.

"Maybe you don't know who you're speaking to."

"Very possible. I've had a busy week."

A few Hyenakin chuckled.

Their leader did not.

"I am Agrus the Red."

He waited.

Apparently the name was supposed to do something.

I stared.

He stared back.

I glanced around.

"Was there supposed to be thunder after that?"

One Hyenakin covered a laugh with a cough.

Agrus's eyes hardened.

"Anyone in these lands knows my name."

"I've been having educational gaps lately."

Clyr looked at me like she wanted to personally strangle me before Agrus got the opportunity.

Agrus bared his teeth.

"If you had sense, my name alone would make you run."

"Then we've identified the problem."

"What problem?"

"My long-running shortage of sense."

He chuckled.

"Unfortunately for you, running is no longer an option. Spriggans fetch good coin."

There it was.

I looked down.

A spear lay near one of the fallen villagers.

I bent and picked it up.

The weapon felt unfamiliar.

Wooden shaft.

Metal point.

Simple.

Balanced.

Agrus watched.

I rolled the spear once in my hand.

Something about the grip felt strangely natural.

That again.

The same sensation I had experienced while chopping wood and helping with weapons.

My hands were learning before my brain had finished panicking.

I aimed the spear toward Agrus.

"Let's test the tickling theory."

For half a second, nobody spoke.

Then Agrus burst out laughing.

The other Hyenakin joined him.

Even while kneeling, Clyr stared at me like I had finally achieved a level of stupidity worthy of historical documentation.

Agrus wiped his mouth.

"You are funny."

"I hear that a lot."

"I think I'll enjoy killing you."

"I hear that less often, but not never."

Agrus waved one hand.

The Hyenakin surrounding us backed away.

They formed a loose circle.

My stomach dropped.

Oh, good.

An arena.

Nothing improves your first real fight like an audience of professional slavers.

Agrus stepped toward me.

"I'll indulge you."

"That's generous."

"I wasn't planning to kill you. Spriggans sell for more alive."

"Flattering."

"But I'll sacrifice the profit to teach you something."

"Financially irresponsible."

His smile widened.

"A lesson worth dying for."

He paused.

"Literally."

I nodded.

"There it is. You really committed to that one."

"Caled!"

Clyr's voice cut between us.

I looked at her.

Her anger was gone.

Now she looked genuinely afraid.

"Don't do this."

I glanced at Agrus.

"Little late."

"Listen to me. There's no hope in dying here."

"Comforting sentence."

"If he captures you, you stay alive. Alive means there can still be hope."

Agrus laughed.

"The chief understands."

I looked back at Clyr.

She was right.

Completely right.

Which made what I was about to do even more irritating.

"I agree with you."

Her eyes widened.

"Then put the spear down."

"I would love to."

"Caled."

"But there's this part of me that keeps screaming I should do this."

"What part?"

"No idea. Probably the same defective department responsible for most of my relationships."

"This is serious!"

"So am I."

That surprised both of us.

I tightened my grip.

"If this goes badly, at least I'll know what to blame."

Clyr stared.

"Yourself?"

"Let's not become unreasonable."

Agrus barked another laugh.

"Brave and stupid."

I pointed the spear at him.

"Mostly the second one."

Then he moved.

Fast.

Far too fast for someone that large.

Agrus charged and swung his sword in a brutal horizontal arc.

I raised the spear instinctively.

Terrible idea.

The massive blade struck the shaft.

The spear snapped apart like it had suddenly remembered it was made of wood.

The impact blasted through my arms and threw me sideways.

Agrus's sword missed my body by what felt like an insultingly small amount.

I hit the ground and rolled.

Dirt filled my mouth.

My shoulder screamed.

Agrus laughed behind me.

"That was your great challenge?"

I pushed myself upright.

"Opening act."

I threw away the broken spear.

A sword lay nearby.

I grabbed it.

The moment my hand closed around the hilt, something shifted.

Not magic.

No glowing light.

No mysterious voice.

Nothing dramatic.

The sword simply felt...

Understandable.

Agrus rushed me again.

I saw him coming.

And suddenly he looked slow.

Not physically slow.

I could see the speed.

The weight.

The power.

But somehow, before his shoulder moved, I already knew where the sword was going.

He swung downward.

I stepped aside.

The blade missed.

Easily.

Agrus blinked.

I did too.

What the hell?

He turned and slashed toward my ribs.

I leaned back.

Another miss.

He reversed the swing.

I ducked.

The sword passed over my head.

Agrus snarled.

He attacked again.

High.

Low.

Diagonal.

Thrust.

Every movement made sense before it finished.

My body responded without asking permission.

Step.

Turn.

Lean.

Pivot.

His blade kept passing through empty air.

I was dodging him.

Not surviving by luck.

Dodging.

Effortlessly.

Agrus's confidence cracked.

"How?"

"Fantastic question."

He swung again.

I slipped beside it.

"I was hoping you knew."

Agrus roared and brought his sword around with both hands.

I moved inside the arc.

My own sword rose.

I did not think about how to hold it.

Did not plan the angle.

I just knew.

That realization was somehow more terrifying than Agrus.

I slashed toward his neck.

His eyes widened.

For the first time, I saw fear.

Agrus jerked backward just in time.

Instead of his throat, my blade tore across his chest.

Metal scraped.

Blood followed.

Agrus stumbled away.

He stared down at the wound.

Then at me.

His expression twisted.

"Hold him down!"

The circle collapsed.

Hyenakin rushed from every direction.

That was where elegance ended.

There were too many.

Hands grabbed at me.

Weapons flashed.

Someone struck my shoulder.

I turned.

Blocked.

Slashed.

Another came from my left.

My body moved before I consciously saw him.

The sword cut through flesh.

A Hyenakin fell.

Then another attacked.

I killed him too.

Something inside me changed.

The strange instinct that had helped me defend myself stopped feeling defensive.

It became efficient.

Cold.

Every movement led naturally into another.

Duck.

Cut.

Turn.

Thrust.

Step.

Slash.

Bodies hit the ground around me.

I heard shouting.

Screaming.

Clyr calling something I could not understand through the noise.

My sword kept moving.

And then I realized something worse than what my body was doing.

I was killing people.

Actually killing them.

And I felt nothing.

No nausea.

No hesitation.

No horror.

Nothing.

That realization stopped me harder than any weapon could.

My sword lowered slightly.

What the hell was wrong with me?

That pause cost me.

Hands grabbed my shirt from behind.

Then another pair caught the front.

Several Hyenakin piled onto me.

Fabric tightened around my throat.

I reacted without thinking.

Fine.

They wanted the shirt?

They could have it.

I tore my arms free and slipped out of it.

The shirt stayed in their hands.

I stumbled forward bare-chested, sword still in my grip.

I turned, expecting everyone to rush me again.

Nobody moved.

Silence spread through the village.

Not complete silence.

People were breathing.

Someone groaned nearby.

Fire still crackled.

But every fighter had stopped.

Hyenakin stared at me.

Wolfkin stared at me.

Clyr's eyes were wide.

Gran had lifted his head from the ground.

Their attention was not on the sword.

It was on my back.

My bare back.

Where every Spriggan should have carried the unmistakable pair of wing-shaped markings.

The tattoos that identified their race even when their magical wings were unable to manifest.

My back had nothing.

No wings.

No markings.

Bare skin.

Agrus stared as if the answer to an impossible question had just punched him in the mouth.

His wounded chest rose and fell rapidly.

Then he lifted one trembling hand and pointed at me.

"You..."

His finger shook.

"You have no wing markings."

Nobody laughed now.

His voice dropped.

"What are you?"

I turned my head enough to look directly at him.

After three days of people treating the truth like a joke, I finally had an audience willing to listen.

"Like I've been telling everyone..."

I met his eyes.

"I'm human."