The horn blast echoes across the plains like death's own trumpet, freezing everyone in place. Vessa's head snaps up, her eyes narrowing as she scans the horizon.
"Stupid royal knights," she spits out. Her hand remains on my shoulder, keeping me paralyzed and helpless on the ground. "Just what we fucking need."
I can barely see from my position, but the thundering of hooves grows louder by the second. Relief floods through me, someone's coming who might actually help.
Vessa makes a quick decision, releasing my shoulder only to scoop me up in one fluid motion and throw me over her shoulder like I weigh nothing. The blood rushes to my head as I dangle there, my hospital gown fluttering embarrassingly in the breeze.
"Let me go!" I try to demand.
She laughs, the sound vibrating through her body and into mine. "No chance. It's almost a full moon, and you think I'm gonna let a gift from Velthara go?"
Her grip tightens painfully around my thighs as she strides toward her horse. I catch glimpses of gleaming armor through the dust, a group of women knights fast approaching on their own horses.
Vessa hitches me higher on her shoulder. "You just had to be within walking distance of Honeywood, didn't you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I protest.
"Sure you don't," she mutters, then shouts to her companions. "Mount up! We're taking the north path through the grove!"
The Crimson Riders scramble to their horses, casting nervous glances toward the approaching knights. Vessa throws me across her saddle like a sack of potatoes before swinging up behind me.
She settles into position behind me, her chest pressing firmly against my back as she reaches around to grab the reins. My body remains completely rigid, her touch rendering me helpless as we lurch forward. The curse has me trapped, I can't even turn my head as the horse breaks into a gallop.
"Don't worry, Sam," Vessa purrs into my ear, her breath hot against my skin. "I'll keep you safe." She nips playfully at my earlobe, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.
We trample across the plains, the rest of her band spreading out around us. The knights' pursuit grows louder behind us, their armor clanking rhythmically with each hoofbeat. I want to scream, to fight, to do anything but sit here like a mannequin as this woman carries me off to god-knows-where.
A blinding flash splits the sky, followed instantly by a deafening crack. Lightning strikes the ground mere feet away, catching one of the Crimson Riders' horses. The animal screams, a horrible, human-like sound, as electricity courses through its body. Its rider is thrown, tumbling across the grass like a rag doll.
"FUCK!" Vessa bellows directly into my ear. "SCRAMBLE! SPLIT UP!"
The remaining riders instantly break formation, veering off in different directions. Pure panic floods my system with nowhere to go, trapped inside a body I can no longer control.
The knights are gaining ground. I can see their gleaming armor through my peripheral vision, their horses eating up the distance between us with powerful strides.
"Surrender now or die, bandits!" The voice is commanding, authoritative, leaving no room for negotiation.
Vessa sighs dramatically against my neck, her chest rising and falling against my back. Rather than slowing, she digs her heels into our horse's flanks, urging it to greater speed.
"They always say that," she mutters, adjusting her grip around my waist. "So dramatic, these royal types."
We veer sharply to the right, heading toward a dense line of trees. My stomach lurches with the sudden change in direction, but my body remains rigidly upright, held in place by Vessa's curse-enforced control.
The trees loom ahead like a dark promise of shelter, but nature has other plans. Just as we cross the treeline, the sky splits open with another blinding flash. Lightning strikes a massive oak directly in our path, the thunderclap hitting my chest like a physical blow. The tree explodes in a shower of splinters and flame.
Our horse screams in terror, rearing up on its hind legs. For a heart-stopping moment, we hang suspended in the air before gravity reclaims us. As Vessa's grip on me breaks, I feel control flooding back into my limbs, sweet, blessed freedom after what felt like an eternity of paralysis.
It lasts exactly one glorious second.
"SAM!" Vessa shouts, reaching toward me mid-fall. Her arms wrap around me like iron bands, twisting our bodies so that she's beneath me as we crash to the forest floor. The impact drives the air from my lungs, but Vessa takes the brunt of it, her body cushioning mine as we roll through the underbrush.
We come to a stop with her still holding me tight, my back pressed against her chest, the curse once again freezing me in place. Pain flares through her body, I can feel it in the way she tenses against me, the sharp intake of breath beside my ear.
"Why would you protect me?" I manage to ask, unable to turn my head to see her face. The question burns in my mind, this woman who just minutes ago was treating me like property is now shielding me with her own body?
She hisses through clenched teeth, her grip tightening painfully around my waist. "Because I need you alive for what happens next, you idiot."
Before I can process her answer, Vessa yanks me upright and presses something cold against my throat. The sharp edge of a knife kisses my skin, making my pulse hammer wildly against the blade.
"Don't move," she whispers.
Through the trees, two armored figures on horseback emerge into the clearing. Their polished plate gleams in the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. The taller one sits straight-backed on a massive chestnut warhorse, her face partially hidden by her helmet's visor.
"Vessa." The name comes out like a slur from the tall knight's mouth.
"Jhone." Vessa's voice is surprisingly calm considering the circumstances, though I feel her grip tighten around me.
The knight named Jhone lifts her visor, revealing a stern face with a prominent scar along her jawline. Her eyes flick from Vessa to me, taking in my hospital gown and vulnerable position.
"Don't get any closer," Vessa warns, pressing the knife harder against my throat. I feel a warm trickle of blood slide down my neck. "I mean it."
The second knight, smaller but no less intimidating, points a staff at us. It's intricately carved with swirling patterns that seem to glow with inner light. Far more impressive than the simple wooden one I'd found earlier.
"Jhone, let me just strike them down with another blast," the second knight says, her voice dripping with eagerness. "Save us the trouble of dragging them back."
"I have a man here," Vessa shouts, her voice suddenly desperate. "You want to kill him, too?"
The smaller knight scoffs, adjusting her grip on the staff. "Yeah, fucking right. I bet that's just a girl you're trying to trick us with. No way you stumbled across a random male."
I feel Vessa sigh heavily against my back. Without warning, she grabs the hem of my hospital gown and yanks it upward, exposing me completely to the knights. I can't even close my legs or cover myself, the curse keeps me frozen, helpless as I'm displayed like merchandise.
Jhone's eyes widen in shock. She quickly motions for her companion to lower her staff, her expression shifting from battle-ready to cautious concern.
"Put that down, Mirelle," she orders. "She's telling the truth."
"But Captain…" the smaller knight begins to protest.
"I said put it down!" Jhone's voice cracks like a whip. "We don't harm men. Ever."
Mirelle's eyes narrow as she studies me more carefully. Suddenly, she leans forward in her saddle, pointing directly at my face.
"Jhone," she says urgently, motioning toward me with a quick nod of her head. "Look at his eyes."
Jhone's gaze shifts to my face, and I see her expression change from stern authority to stunned recognition.
"Oh my," she breathes, her voice barely audible. "He bears the Curse."
The knife at my throat trembles slightly as Vessa adjusts her grip. "Let me go," she says, her voice taking on a desperate edge, "and I'll free him. No harm done."
Jhone sighs heavily, the sound of someone who's seen this scenario play out too many times before. "Fine," she says reluctantly.
"I'll release him a mile up the road," Vessa adds quickly, already starting to edge backward.
"No." Mirelle's voice cuts through the air like a blade. "You let him go right here, right now, or I blast you both anyway." Her staff glows ominously, the tip pulsing with barely contained energy.
Jhone opens her mouth, likely to negotiate or command, but she never gets the chance. In one fluid motion, Vessa shoves me forward and breaks into a sprint, darting between the trees with surprising speed.
The moment her hands leave my body, control floods back into my limbs. I collapse to my knees, gasping as if I've been underwater for minutes. My lungs burn with each desperate breath, my heart hammering against my ribs as the panic that's been building finally has somewhere to go.
"I can... I can move again," I wheeze, flexing my fingers just to prove to myself that I can.
Behind me, I hear the heavy thud of boots hitting the ground as Jhone dismounts. There's a rustle of fabric, and suddenly something heavy and warm envelops me, a thick woolen cape that smells of leather oil and woodsmoke.
"Thank you."
Jhone nods curtly, her scarred face unreadable as she steps back. "Stay down," is all she says.
I glance behind her just in time to see Mirelle raise her staff, her body perfectly balanced on her horse as she takes aim like an archer. The tip of her staff glows blindingly bright, energy crackling around it in angry blue-white arcs.
A bolt of pure energy erupts from Mirelle's staff, streaking through the trees with deadly precision. The forest lights up as if struck by lightning, shadows dancing crazily across the ground. A distant scream confirms the hit, followed by the dull thud of a body hitting earth.
"Jesus Christ!" I blurt out, my knees still shaking as the bolt of energy illuminates the darkened forest. The sheer destructive power is terrifying, like watching someone casually throw lightning bolts.
Mirelle turns to me with a wide, proud smile stretching across her face. Her eyes practically sparkle with delight at my reaction.
"Nice, right? Just like Momma taught me," she says, patting her staff affectionately like it's a beloved pet.
I stare at her awkwardly, completely at a loss for words. My mind struggles to process the casual way she just attacked another human being. The juxtaposition of her cheerful demeanor and what I just witnessed leaves me speechless.
"Alright," I finally manage, not knowing what else to say. What's the proper response to watching someone get blasted by magic? "Thanks."