Challenged (Mates for the Raskarrans #8)

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Rardek

T hey wake the rest of the females quickly. There are eight remaining and all are woken one after the other, a stream of shocked and frightened looking females emerging from the Mercenia hut. With the others, we have tried to be reassuring, kind. These unfortunate females only have Liv and the others’ word that we are good people. None of us are in any shape to show it.

All I want to do is sit with my linasha, to hold her close to me and let her presence soothe my heartspace, but there is work to be done if we are to leave the Mercenia hut behind this day - something we now wish to do all the more urgently. Being here will not help our spirits to heal, and delaying the pain and grief we must bring to the others at home will not soften it any.

Once the females are all awake, Grace and Rachel see to their care - making sure they are fed, clothed and ready to leave. Brooks and Liv pack up the things inside the Mercenia hut that might be useful to us. Sharp metal blades that cut through foliage easily. Other tools we might find a use for.

There is also a crate of the deadly weapons that can cut down a raskarran in one shot.

“ Justincayse ,” Brooks says, grimacing as she adds the box to the pile of things we must take back with us.

My Angie is absent, and I know where she must be. The machine that belonged to Farrow. There is some last thing that she must find.

When she emerges, she talks to Liv. Liv waves me over.

“You have logs prepared. For the burn, yes?” she says.

“Yes.”

“Angie show you where to put them.” Liv’s eyes flash. “And we burn the hut down.”

My Angie looks at the base, walking round it a few times, then points out into the forest. I gather up the hunters to aid us, Anghar, Paskar and Jaskry all taking up armfuls of logs. Darsha and Callif see what we are doing and come to offer their aid also. Together, we trudge out into the forest in the direction my Angie indicated.

We do not have to go far to find what she is looking for. A doorway. I am not surprised that no one before has noticed it - it is too close to the hut to have been covered by a patrol route and mostly concealed by mud and roots. We hack and pull at the roots, aided by their state of rot, until the door can be opened.

It is only narrow and leads straight down. My Angie pulls out a device that she snaps, then shakes vigorously, causing it to glow with an unnatural brightness. She drops it down into the opening and it clatters on the ground moments later. I look down at it, disliking the stale air that rises out of the hole, and the deep darkness that the device only just manages to fight off.

“ Lessgo, ” my Angie says, slipping into the hole and climbing down.

We have to drop the logs - impossible to climb down the slippery foot and hand holds the humans have installed in the wall while carrying them. Many of them break, making them harder to carry, but easier to set fire to. My Angie goes ahead of us, raising her light high above her head and waving her arms. After a moment, lights like the ones in the upper levels of the Mercenia hut start to flicker on, pushing back the shadows a little further.

It is warm, I realise, as we travel down the long, thin room, the air stuffy. A low humming noise gets louder as we walk closer to the door at the end of the room. If my Angie is concerned about any of this, she does not show it, only continues to march forward, head and light held high. She looks back at me as we arrive at the door, shooting me a reassuring smile before she pushes it open.

A wall of noise hits, making each of us raskarrans flinch. The room beyond the door is enormous, and full of machines - similar to the one my Angie likes to use, but different also. They take up entire walls, lights flashing all over them, just like the pods . At the centre of the room, surrounded by barriers, is a machine that vibrates and whirs, radiating heat and menace. My Angie looks around at it all, nodding her head.

We set the logs down around the room, butting them up against the various different machines. None of us are eager to get close to the machine at the centre, but while we are all avoiding it, my Angie is at work on one of the other machines . She taps at it, her fingers dancing over the various raised parts of it. After a moment, she thumps her hand down on something large and red, and the machine at the centre of the room starts to slow, its noise quieting until it falls still and silent.

After that, we finish setting the logs about the room quickly, returning to the forest to gather up smaller twigs and leaves. It does not take long before we are set and ready.

Anghar uses his flints to spark a flame at the edge of the room. It takes a little while to catch, spluttering amongst the damp leaves for a moment before it builds in heat and starts to burn through them. Darsha, Callif and Paskar leave as soon as the fire starts to spread, climbing up out of this strange place and back into the forest. Anghar watches a moment longer, then also retreats. My Angie remains in the doorway, watching the flames - the light from them bathing her face in a golden glow.

“Do not linger long,” Jaskry says. “Already the smoke has an unnatural smell to it.”

It burns at my nose, also, an acrid smell that I have never scented before. As Jaskry’s footsteps grow quieter and further away, I touch a hand to my Angie’s shoulder.

“We should leave,” I say, though I know she cannot understand my words.

She looks up at me, then looks back to the flames, a grim sort of satisfaction in her expression.

“ Gudfuckinriddens ,” she says, then throws her light into the flames and turns, walking back toward the forest.

The outside air smells all the sweeter as we emerge from the hut, a plume of smoke following us. Darsha and Callif heave the doors shut, locking the smoke and the flames inside. I can still hear the crackling though, and loud pops and bangs start as we begin walking back to the rest of the group. By the time we arrive at the edges of the clearing, there is smoke drifting out of the hut’s entrance. We linger until we see the glow of flames inside, then we all turn as one and leave.

My Angie’s hand slips inside mine as we walk. I draw her hand up to my mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, grateful that - whatever other darknesses and sorrows we now carry - we have this. We have each other. My linasha, my perfect mate.

My little flame.

We walk until it is time to stop for the night, eating on the go so we can put more distance between us and the hut. When it gets too dark to safely continue, we set up tents and build a fire. The new females look nervously at the trees around our camp, wondering, I expect, what horrors might lurk out in the darkness. They will learn, in time, that we will always do our best to keep them safe. That the worst horrors are the ones they have already left behind them.

When everyone starts to go to their beds, I take my Angie’s hand, leading her a short way from the camp. She narrows her eyes at me, but follows without protest. I grin at her, then scoop her up onto my back, fixing her arms around my neck, then linking her legs around my waist.

“Hold on,” I say to her, then loose my claws, start to climb the nearest tree.

We are outside of the range of the blight, though not by much. Enough that I trust the tree to take my weight, but only with a little cautious testing once we get high into the branches. My Angie makes no sound, but her arms and legs grip me tighter the higher we climb.

Finally, we get high enough, and I settle us onto a thicker branch, sitting with my back against the trunk, my Angie nestled between my thighs, our legs dangling down either side. I press my lips to the spot beneath her ear and she shivers, burrowing back into me, resting her head against my shoulder.

We do not speak a word to each other. Not because we cannot, but because we do not need to. We just sit there in each other’s arms, drawing comfort from our closeness.

Watch the distant glow of the Mercenia hut as it burns.