The Puppeteer and The Poisoned Pawn (The Pawn and The Puppet series Book 3)
The Puppeteer and The Poisoned Pawn: Chapter 5

Burning pain explodes through the muscles in my legs, shooting into my lower back.

“They’re not human,” Niles pants next to me, nodding his head to Dessin and Warrose leading our run this morning. It seemed with sleep, Kane went back into the inner world by the time I woke, leaving Dessin to take his place.

We’re following the Emerald Lake River that cuts around the city to Hangman’s Valley—the forest of beasts. The barrier between DaiSzek and us. The woods littered with traps to capture or kill. Dessin wanted to scope it out in person.

“They’re figments of our imagination,” Ruth shouts from behind us. “Like we didn’t escape the asylum.”

“Like we’re in one of Skylenna’s wet dreams.” Niles nods to himself.

It is a sight. Warrose has his shirt off, tattoo markings glistening in sweat and the golden morning sun. Dessin sweats through his black-and-gray soldier’s attire. He refused to wear Demechnef colors of maroon and gold.

And looking at his back, muscles flexing under his clothes, shoulder blades moving in and out as he runs, I remember the burns on his back, stretched under his shirt. The beautiful, devastating pattern and proof that he’s looked after me on so many different occasions. It makes my heart stop and start, flipping happily in my chest. I bury the feeling immediately, drowning it out with the sting turning into a gruesome infection under my breastbone.

The wound of his lies.

Niles glances back at Ruth, who is falling farther and farther behind.

“Did you eat something this morning, Ruthie?” Niles asks.

“Of course I did; Warrose practically spoon-fed me.” She huffs in frustration. “But my legs are so much shorter than all of you. It’s hard to keep up. I have to work twice as hard!”

I look back to Warrose and Dessin. “Can we take a break?”

“No,” they bark back in unison.

“You know… you could always start moaning loudly to get Dessin to stop.” Niles continues running with a smile on his handsome lips.

“What?”

“Moan. Seduce him, and he’ll stop to ravage you behind a tree or something.”

We stop hearing Ruth’s struggling footsteps behind us, so we look back, catching her resting at the side of the river, legs dangling in the rushing water.

I want to laugh. She’s such a slacker; honestly, it’s a refreshing contrast to Warrose, who has probably never slacked in his life.

Niles and I stop at the same time, turning to go back for her with suppressed smiles.

“It’s kind of cute how she’s not afraid to piss them off, huh?” Niles asks.

“Yes, actually.” Very cute. She’s leaned back on her hands, kicking her small feet in the water, basking in the sun like she’s on vacation.

“Having a nice spa day, Ruthie?” Niles sits next to her, glancing over his shoulder at Dessin and Warrose moving farther away in the distance. “There’s a chance you have bigger balls than me.”

I laugh. “We need to keep moving. They’re going to be pissed.”

“Fine by me. I’ll wait right here until they circle back.” Ruth lets her head fall back. “It’s kind of nice not having to worry about the sun freckling or aging my skin anymore.”

We’re not exactly being displayed like perfect little dolls in the city. We’re hidden away, which gives us more freedom.

I nod. I missed the sun on my skin. When I was little, I’d crave the warmth of the sun every day. Every time I was locked in that dark, cold basement, I’d pray for my next moment in the warm breeze, waiting for my next chance to absorb those golden rays.

I drop down next to Ruth, rolling up my pants to let my legs sink into the splashing river water. The cold is shocking, making goose bumps prickle over my entire body. But it’s revitalizing, soothing my hot, sweaty skin, slowing my heart rate and rapid breathing.

Niles and I sigh at the same time.

“Skylenna had wild aquatic sex last night,” Niles comments.

“Niles!” I scold. “We were just talking!”

“In the bathtub. The walls are paper thin.”

“Did you really? I thought you were pissed at him.” Ruth sits up straighter, twisting her neck to look at me.

“I’m pissed at Dessin and Kane.” And we didn’t do anything.

They’re silent for a long moment before it clicks.

“Jesus Christ! You’re kidding me. You get to have sex with different people in the same body?” Niles lets out a low whistle. “You have to give us every detail. Do they have different styles? Like different positions? Don’t leave anything out!”

“Maybe another time,” Dessin’s brooding, deep voice booms behind us.

I don’t have to look back to know they’re both standing behind us. My eyes squeeze close in embarrassment.

Niles nods to himself. “I just forgot… I have to go drown myself in this river now.”

Ruth swats at his arm, snickering at his quick wit.

“Am I interrupting, my queen?” Warrose kneels down behind Ruth, so close I’m sure she can feel his breath on the back of her neck. His raspy voice is calm, but that edgy masculine face and those piercing hazel eyes hold back a wicked temper.

“Yes, actually, you are.” She turns to give him an annoyed sidelong glance. “Run along, Warman; I’ll catch up with you later.”

I bite my lip. How did I not know Ruth was this brave?

“Get your entitled ass up before I throw you over my shoulder again.”

“Bite me, chicken coward.” She hops from her seated position into the river, holding on to a rock to keep from floating downstream.

I gasp. “Ruth!”

“Oh hell no,” Warrose snarls. “Get out!”

Niles and I look at each other with slow grins spreading over our faces. We jump in next to Ruth. The ice-cold water splintering up my spine, waking up my nervous system. I dip my head back, wetting my hair with a beaming grin.

We hold on to boulders to keep from drifting away, looking up at Dessin and Warrose, who wear mirrored expressions of shock and displeasure.

“I won’t ask again, your highness.” Warrose stretches his arm out to Ruth, gritting his teeth.

“Give her a break,” Niles barks. “None of us are accustomed to this type of physical activity.”

But Ruth sighs, shaking her head. “Fine. You’re so dramatic.” She reaches up to Warrose’s hand, gripping it with water dripping from their linked arms. She lets him pull her up three inches, then bucks her hips, using her feet against the edge to yank him downward.

Warrose goes flying. A meteor crashing into the body of water.

Ruth tips her head back in laughter as Warrose bobs to the surface, throwing his hair back out of his face, spraying water over us.

He tries to look angry, furrows his brow, flexes his jaw. But then he looks at Ruth, wheezing from her amusement of his fall, and smiles. “Goddammit.”

“Sorry, but you needed a bath!” Ruth snickers.

“Pain. In. My. Ass.” Warrose shakes his head, still unable to wipe the smile from his face.

After a moment, we look back to Dessin, standing in the same spot with his arms crossed. I notice the painful shadows under his eyes, how unbearably tired he looks, the lack of color in his cheeks.

Despite the fact that I still haven’t forgiven him or let go of the fury still crippling my thoughts… he needs to live. Needs to forget about his responsibilities for a moment.

“Come on, Dessin!” Niles waves a wet hand toward him.

Dessin glares in his direction. A dark flash of impatience.

“I mean, sir….” Niles corrects himself.

I smirk, debating on whether I should do this or if it’ll even work like Niles said. One last glance at his silent-suffering expression, and I decide.

Letting my head fall back to the trickling water, I let out a soft, satisfied moan that dances across the water. Just like Niles suggested I do before.

And in the corner of my half-closed eyes, Dessin tugs his shirt over his head and jumps in. The waves splash in a cool mist over us. Ruth cheers that she got everyone to stop running and go swimming instead.

“I might be a genius,” Niles mutters under his breath, impressed that his own advice worked.

And that’s when the splashing starts. Niles, Ruth, and Warrose break out into a war of bickering about who would die first if they had to swim against the current while continuing to splash each other in the face.

Dessin places one arm over a boulder, keeping himself in place as the water brushes past him. He turns his back to me, and I see it. The intricate pattern of burn marks from a collapsed ceiling. The way it was melted and healed, morphed a shade darker than his tan skin tone.

I float closer to him, reaching my hand out to his back, grazing the tips of my fingers over the raised skin. I sigh. He got these because of me. I’m not bothered at all by the appearance or feel of it under my hand, but I am frozen, numb, and unable to decide how I feel about this.

He got these scars from saving me. From trying to save Scarlett. He’s put his life at risk so many times, walked through fire, fought off an army of beasts, carried my broken body to an infirmary for miles.

Why would he do all of that just to lie and betray my trust?

Dessin lets his head fall, reacting to my featherlight touch on his back. I know he’s tired. When I fall asleep at night, he tosses and turns, gets up, walks around. Whatever weighs on his shoulders is killing him slowly. And that’s suffocating to think about. A man so powerful, so genius, so magnificent is being brought down by what he knows.

“Does it hurt?” I ask.

“Not anymore.”

I wince, realizing he was a patient in the asylum when Scarlett died that day. He had to return to the asylum with third-degree burns. He had to suffer through his treatments without being cared for. My heart cracks right down the middle.

“I’m sorry you were only there because of me…”

He sighs, still not looking back at me. “I’d do it a thousand more times.”

“Why?”

Stupid question. But is it? After everything I’ve learned. Why would he put himself through all of this for me?

“Because… I’d never let you burn alone.”

“Well done, idiots. Now we have to run the rest of the way in solid water weight,” Warrose shouts back at us, his footsteps making loud squishing sounds in his boots.

Ruth laughs, keeping up right behind Niles and me.

We’re only a few yards away from hitting the forest line of Hangman’s Valley. The sky is cloudless and sunny, the wind is gentle, and the air smells of lavender and honeysuckle.

“Why do you suppose Rydran helped me?” Niles asks.

“Who?”

“The merman.”

“Oh. He’s not a merman.”

“Yes, he is.”

“I saw him on land—walking—twice,” I say.

“That information means nothing to me.”

I laugh.

“I don’t know. They have weird prophecies. Maybe it was predicted that you’d need help one day.” I shrug.

Dessin and Warrose stop running, staring at something blocking their path at the edge of the forest. I jog up behind them to get a better look, but Dessin’s tan arm shoots backward to capture my arm, keeping me at a safe distance behind him.

There are two men dressed in heavy charcoal-gray robes. Middle age, light-brown skin, and black hair braided in thick rows.

“Skylenna?” one man calls out. “Is it Skylenna?” he seems to be asking the man to his left.

“My friend here is without sight. But we’ve come to speak to you both.” The younger one nods his head to Dessin, eyes looking back and forth between the two of us.

Dessin’s arm tenses. “Who are you?”

“The Druidalas Kin. From Shaman’s Land.”

I recognize the name. It’s from one of the seven forests on the map.

“Okay.” Dessin shifts on his feet. “What do you want?”

The younger man steps forward, holding the arm of the blind one. “You never came to visit us. We heard you saw the Nightamous Horde and the Stormsages.”

“We’ve been a little busy,” Dessin says coldly.

“We understand. That’s why we’ve come for you, tracked you several weeks. To tell you something that will help with your journey.” The blind man takes a quivering step forward, and the closer he is, the better I can see his cloudy white eyes. “You’ll know she’s ready when the first blood is drawn for the one that was born of slaughter.”

We blink at him, silent, waiting for more. But that’s it. That’s what he came this far to tell us. “What?” I blurt out.

Dessin remains silent, working something out in his head. Putting those words together like a puzzle. “I see.” He nods, letting go of my arm. “Is that all?”

The old man nods his head. “Prophecy says, when the war begins, we will ride with you. Remember that.”