The Winged

21- Rescue (1)

Though the journey from the Hollow burnt my back like wildfire, I refused to let myself stop. I knew what had to be done, and the only way to do it would be to stomach the pain and continue.
It took no more than ten minutes to get to their tents, but even that felt like too long. Like every breath I took was me wasting time. Because I thought of my brothers, of Rosin, all those people at his mercy... both of those beasts, but him especially. My face had stopped bleeding now despite the fact the pain still lingered. The fear still lingered. And when I thought of my people feeling as I had when he drew the blood from my cheek, I managed to force myself into such a speed that I had to wonder whether this was stupidity. A collision at this speed would probably knock me clean out of the sky. I wasn't much good to anyone if I flew myself into a tree, was I?

My wings. They screamed with pain the entire way. Stop, logic told me, rest. But that small voice was nothing compared to the roiling drive in my blood. Save them. By the gods and by fire, I had to. I had to. I don't know how to describe it— the feeling just burnt, beyond pain, beyond reason. If I didn't get there in time, if I didn't stop the humans, these people were going to get hurt. It was wrong. And I refused to let it happen.
Sam had taken enough from me.

Before I even stopped to consider what in the blazes I was planning to do, the green peaks of the tents snapped into view.

I flopped onto the nearest tree, panting. From this high up I had a bird's-eye view of the entire clearing. Raw bark scratched my knees as I sat there motionlessly, breathing in and out with what little rhythm I could manage. I would get my breath back, then I would act.
Sunlight danced freely across the ground now that the clearing was rid of the creatures' clutter. Two of the three tents had been packed away, leaving only one remaining, standing solitary. I knew it instantaneously as where I had been imprisoned.

My eyes narrowed, heart pounding firmer. In there.
Where the campfire had once been, only a few blackened ashes still remained, scattered about the floor in a pile. Once their heap of things had been taken away, those charred specks would be the only sign that the humans were ever here.
I clutched Rosin's spear close. They were planning to leave soon. That gave me even less time to figure out what in the gods I was supposed to do against them.

And as if thinking about the beasts seemed to make them appear, I watched in a tight-lipped silence as a blonde head emerged from the last tent.
Mike. My heart may have synchronised to the pounding of his steps. Wringing the spear's deep stone, I had to physically restrain myself from hurtling the point straight through his eye. Monster. With a deep exhale, I reminded myself that it would only get me caught. Rosin's spear wouldn't change the strength he possessed, or that I lacked. This would be all about being crafty, timing things right...
Az would know.

I glared daggers into Mike's back as he knelt low, muttering to himself. The words were too low for me to understand, but his voice still rumbled like far off thunderclouds. He seemed preoccupied with readying everything to leave, like I had suspected... which I supposed would benefit me. That meant one less human to deal with.

My eyes fell back on the tent, heart ablaze. It was the only place Sam could be keeping them. That, or they were already gone.
I gulped, my wings jittering on my back. Stop it. Be brave... please be brave. They need you.

I stood up as quietly as I could, checking that Mike was still busying himself. The tent seemed to watch me. So many times had I tried to escape from there... and now that I finally had, I was going to sneak right back in.
I could have smiled— It was almost comical, how cruel this all was. Almost.
After taking in a final calming breath, I stepped off the edge of the branch and fell.