Chains and Claws

As the men dragged Melissa into Calzorak’s tent, a heavy wave of heat and the sharp scents of oiled leather and burning incense rushed toward her.

She stumbled as they shoved her forward, chains clinking around her ankles.

When the warlord finally arrived, the guards turned and slipped outside, leaving her alone with him.

Calzorak chuckled as he came closer, his broad shoulders casting shadows across the hanging drapes.

Melissa’s eyes locked onto him, blazing with scorn.

“Yes... exactly that. That look. Indescribable!” Calzorak exclaimed, studying every twitch in her expression. “After a day filled with squabbling weaklings who pretend to be warriors, there’s nothing I relish more than letting out all my pent-up rage in exactly the way I choose.”

His voice dropped to an icy whisper. “And today, I’ve got a whole mountain of rage ready to be... released.”

He reached for her, grabbing her throat with a rough hand, while his other hand slid across the coarse fur at her hips.

But Melissa’s expression didn’t change at all.

Calzorak leaned closer, his breath hot and spiced against her ear as he licked his lips. “When I’m done with you, you’ll look at me very differently, I promise you that.”

He squeezed harder, cutting off her air while his other hand crept lower.

And while he grinned, he didn’t notice the soft click as the chains came undone.

Calzorak’s eyes widened in shock when Melissa’s cold, contemptuous stare changed...

...but not in the way he’d promised.

Her now sulfur-colored eyes narrowed into slits, fixating on the warlord.

In one seamless motion, Melissa snapped forward, claws flashing like twin scythes.

“Hngh...”

Blood welled at the corners of his mouth.

Slowly, he looked down, seeing the long claws buried deep inside his heart.

“But... I am...” he rasped, as his grip around her throat loosened.

She shoved him off her claws, sending his body sprawling across the silken cushions.

“So much for breaking me,” she muttered.

Melissa straightened, glancing around the lavish tent.

Gilded drinking horns, curved scimitars on stands, heavy tapestries embroidered with snakes and suns.

“There’s got to be something useful in here...” she muttered under her breath.

She prowled around the bed and spotted a heavy chest in the shadows, stamped with the seal of Yashar.

It was locked, but she drew back one hoof and kicked it, snapping the metal bolt apart with a loud crack.

Melissa rifled through the chest, tossing aside silk and coin until her fingers closed around thick bundles of parchment.

Her eyes flew wide.

“Hm... what’s this?”

She flipped through them, scanning the writing: troop numbers, supply routes, lists of Yashari nobles loyal to Calzorak.

And then, a series of letters detailing a planned invasion into the south of Tiberun, complete with maps and precise attack routes.

A grin slashed across her face, fierce and triumphant.

“Jackpot!”

Suddenly, metal clashed on metal, hoarse voices shouted orders, and the blare of a horn, sharp and shrill, echoed through the camp.

Melissa froze, her ears twitching, as more shouting erupted outside the tent.

She scooped up the letters, and with a flick of her claws, she slashed open the back wall of the tent.

“Okay. First, I need to get out of here. Our cart should be... somewhere back that way,” Melissa muttered, looking in a certain direction.

Carefully, she peeked around the corner of the tent, where two Yashari soldiers ran past, one of them shouting:

“The spies must be around here somewhere!”

Melissa pulled back into the shadows.

“Spies...? Don’t tell me they mean...”

She ducked under a hanging banner and slipped into a narrow alley between tents, her fingers brushing the plans she had stolen from Calzorak.

“If the others got exposed... they’d probably head to our fallback point. Then again...” She thought of Lucius. “No, that fool would definitely try to come looking for me.”

In the distance, more footsteps thundered through the city of tents.

“Lucius... stay where you are...” she murmured, almost a prayer.

Then she shook her head.

“Better if I find him first.”

᯽᯽᯽

Dust burned in Lucius’ throat as he stumbled forward, half-dragged, half-running beside Tagunel.

“Keep going!” the halfling hissed. “If we stop, we’re dead!”

Lucius gasped for breath, horns still blaring behind them, voices echoing through the camp.

“Find the intruders!”

“We can’t just leave them!” Lucius spat. “Liviana... Melissa... they...”

Tagunel grabbed his arm hard enough to make him flinch. “If we get caught now, it won’t help anyone!”

They rounded a corner and nearly crashed into a squad of soldiers.

Tagunel yanked Lucius back into the shadows, both of them pressing flat against the tent wall.

Lucius’ fingers twitched toward the hidden vials beneath his tunic.

I should just blow up this damn camp... I do have the power, don’t I?

Tagunel cautiously peeked around the edge.

“We head for the outer edge of camp. From there, we circle back to the meeting point. With some luck, we’ll make it.”

They sprinted on through the labyrinth of tents, the ground trembled faintly beneath distant marching feet.

His heart pounded as they pushed into a narrow passage, and before he could react...

...Lucius crashed headfirst into someone.