RED HORIZON (Heliocite Saga #1)

𝕊𝕀𝕏

After checking to make sure the rebel had no more weapons, Azariah secured his hands behind his back with some spare rope. He couldn't help the grin on his features as he tightened the knot a little extra. Maybe now they would finally get some answers.

The skittish whispers of Tapresians echoed all around as he tugged the criminal up to his feet. Forcing his face back into an intimidating scowl, Azariah met their stares until they turned away, gradually going back to their business like a herd of sheep grazing on a hill. The life and noise of the streets returned, though noticeably more quiet than before. Azariah also noted he didn't have to ask anyone to get out of his way this time as he guided the rebel back to the tent to regroup with the others. The man was red-faced with fury the entire way, but said nothing.

Elijah was waiting at the tent with the other rebel, who was almost comically face down and unconscious in the sand. The older Heli and Seri had apparently made quick work of him and had time to search the tent.

"We found mostly silver, plus a few weapons," Elijah explained as Azariah forced his captive down by the shoulders next to the other in the sand. The rebel gave a moan of pain and grumbled something indecipherably malicious under his breath. "One of the crates had some documents but we haven't had a chance to look at them yet to see if they have any useful information."

Azariah wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, still dripping in sweat from the chase. No explosives? That was surprising. The rebellion's strategy up until now had mostly consisted of bombing and running. They didn't have the numbers for anything else. If they were large enough to form an army, they would have used it already. Had they been recruiting, then? That would explain the silver. They must have put up the fortune teller front to serve as a meeting place.

Elijah scanned Azariah and noticed the blood soaking through his tunic. "You got nicked, huh?"

Azariah looked down at his arm. He had been so focused on taking down the rebel he had hardly noticed. Now, though, the damage was clear and he could feel the burning itch of dried blood mixing with fresh. The rebel had cut deep. Azariah wouldn't be surprised if some sand had penetrated the gash, too, after rolling around in the streets.

Seri, who was just now exiting the tent with crate loaded arms, stopped when she saw him. She dropped the crates in the sand with a thunk and stormed over, grabbing his arm to get a better look. "You're bleeding!"

He winced as she tugged on his sleeve to see the damage. "Easy!"

Ignoring him, she hummed in disapproval. She ran her thumb below the wound, trying to make an assessment, but there was too much blood and dirt caked together for either of them to clearly see how bad it was. She let go.

"I'll patch you up when we get back," She promised over her shoulder, going back to grab the crates. "You'd better hope you don't need stitches."

Elijah left to go get the dunerider, and Azariah helped Seri with the crates. The sound of uneven approaching footfall came a few minutes later and they turned to see Yazid limping toward them. Alone. Azariah jogged over to give him his uninjured shoulder to lean on. 

The young Heli explained defeatedly that he had chased the rebel another block and that they had fought, but after the rebel tripped him and twisted his ankle, he had gotten away. Seri assured him that it was alright, and that they were lucky they had gotten two out of the three anyway. Azariah stayed quiet. 

A bit later, Elijah arrived with the dunerider and they loaded all of the crates on, then the captives. The unconscious one had woken up, and Elijah gagged them both to keep them silent.