A Court of Dark and Decay

Chapter 36- Gagged

The soundless snow fell around her in thick flakes, gathering in her hair and eyelashes. Her cloak swished against the cold ground, the white dust not yet coating the forest floor. 

This was the first snow fall of the season. The Rite would be soon. 

The females had a right to be there. Nesta would make sure of it. 

That was her plan tonight.

The Pit was crawling with the males who thought what the females did was thier decesion. Males who thought that they were in charge.

 Nesta would show them how wrong they were. 

The clamor of drunk men could be heard through the muted silence of the snowfall. Nesta didn't know how long it had taken her to get there, only that the sun had set long ago. What had only taken Sera an hour of flight had taken Nesta half the night. She was not tired, though. Not worn out or wanting for food or water. She kept pace, kept that magic on her arms and burning in her soul.

Ahead, she could makeout from inbetween the trees the soft glow of a fire- the makeshift guard station. 

The Pit was laid out much like a minature version of Windhaven. Main enterance, a perimiter; it even had a tavern and cabins where the patrons could stay. Knowing that what they were doing was immoral and wanting to keep buisness private, there were two gaurds set posted outside the two tall evergreen trees that marked the enterance. 

Nesta had spent much of the walk wondering how many women had suffered in this wooded Hel. How many women had been dragged through the trees and never returned to thier families- or dragged through the trees by the hands of thier family. 

It was quite the sophisticated operation, the guards changing shifts and there being levels of command within the Pit. 

Nesta hadn't known, but Terthal had been quite high up on the ladder. Tonight, she would pay some of his freinds a visit. 

She have gone in, magic bared and raging. But Nesta was begening to understand herself, understand what breed of monster she wanted to shape herself into. 

She was not a hammer or an axe, but a filet knife. Precise, vicious, sharp, consistent. 

Quiet and dark. Waiting. 

The King of Hybern had once called her a hellcat. As Nesta reigned in her magic and stalked closer to the guards under the cover of the black sky, she supposed he was not far off. 

Nesta had observed for a long while from the trees after her last visit. Aside from the chaos that brought a greedy smile to her lips, she wittnessed a shifting of the gaurd. It happened every hour, on the hour. A few hundred yards from the guard post, Nesta decided to wait until the next shift in guard before making her move. 

The forest was heavy, the snow was coming down as a sheet of white, and Nesta was downwind of them, all the aspects of the night working in her favor. She still had to be careful, though. It was never lost on her that these males were warriors trained for hundreds of years. She had to be painstakingly cautious to ensure her position was not compromised. 

Nesta dropped to one knee behind a massive pine, and waited. 

Her body was still, rigid in the cold, and like the hellcat she was, she waited until the guards changed. 

Focus unchallenged by the snow or the cold or the raging ocean of magic withing her, Nesta watched as two males emerged from between the pines. A breif exchange of words, pats on backs, and the two new guards took up the post as the two others entered the Pit, releived of duty.