Ink Forged

~Unwelcome~

The low murmur of voices warned Maevus to keep her eyes shut as she floated back to consciousness. She was warm, which was good. She was also tied up, which was bad. 

Maevus lay perfectly still, letting her other senses tell her what they could. Seava was gone, the dragon sent back to her world when Maevus had lost consciousness. She was on something soft but not covered by anything. Patches of skin ached and stung, telling her she was plenty banged up from their collision with the tree. She smelled woodsmoke and something savory—stew of some sort, Maevus would guess.

Something stirred beside her, nearly making her eyes fly open. Then, she remembered Volt. He had been with her when Seava crashed. 

A door suddenly opened, then banged shut. A lock snapped to. Silence seeped through the room. Swallowing against a dry throat, Maevus ever so slightly cracked her right eye open. Peering through her lashes, she swept her gaze around. She couldn't see anyone.

"Maevus," Volt's low voice whispered behind her.

She bobbed her head, indicating she was awake. His sigh brushed over her ear, and her eyes opened all the way as she felt him sit up. Rolling onto her back, she stared up into the cloud of smoke that swirled gently against the thatch roof. 

"Are you alright?" he asked. She glanced over, but he was nothing more than a darker shadow in the dim room. He turned to her, hood swaying. "Are you hurt?"

"Scrapes and bruises," she finally answered, groaning as she sat up. They were on a pallet of furs and straw, judging by the soft crinkling sound that accompanied every movement. "You?"

A grunt in reply. He struggled for a moment, bumping into her before he managed to get his legs under him and push to his feet. Maevus craned her neck, wiggling around so she was facing the room.

It was modest. A one-room cabin with a small hearth. It was bare save the pallet she was on and a chair by the fire. Maevus watched as Volt circled the room, searching every nook and corner. A dissatisfied sigh heaved at his shoulders when he returned to the center of the room.

Maevus scooted back, slumping against the sturdy log wall behind her. She tugged at the rope binding her wrists, then closed her eyes to fight the panic beginning to brew low in her gut.

"That storm wasn't natural," Volt murmured, sinking down beside her. Maevus' eyes popped open as his shoulder leaned against hers. He turned toward her, skin gilded by firelight. "An Encant is here."

She gladly turned her mind to that, rather than spiral into the memories and pain brought on by the rough fibers cutting at her wrists. "The one we're searching for?"

"Mm." Volt's shoulders shifted. He was moving his arms. Trying to untie his bonds?

Maevus' heart leaped as Lox yanked at his string, trying to force himself into her world. She pushed back, scared to summon any of her dragons. What if one of their captors returned? What if they managed to kill or wound one of the dragons?

A distant scream sounded in her ears, a wretched sound of loss and pain. Maevus squeezed her eyes shut, banishing the memory.

No, she shot down the threads. Absolutely not. Not yet.

Eight growls rattled her heart, vibrating through the threads. There was a subtle snap and a low sound of triumph from Volt, teeth glimmering in a brief grin. Firelight shone off the blade he held. He gestured for her to turn so he could get to her hands.

"They didn't search you?" she asked in disbelief.

Her own sword and dagger were conspicuously absent.