Updatedness!

Well...hey guys. I know it's been a while since I had a non-chapter blog post. ... so hey! :) How y'all doin? Be honest wit me!
Anyway...the point of this message will be just venting/news/whatever pops into my head like the popcorn in Mrs. D's room's microwave cuz our microwave is stupid.

I got my SAT scores, and Chair and Will {one of whom will probably never read this} always pester me about what I got, so now I can finally tell them something. Most likely I'll forget by the time I see them Sunday and shall direct them here. I'll bet anyone reading this two bucks that Chair won't read this but Will will. Observe the usefulness of predicting one's friends. :)

The three main category thingies were critical reading, math, and writings skills. In critical reading I scored 59, which means I scored higher than 92% of sophmores. In math I got 48. lol. I omitted 9 questions and got 9 wrong. I scored higher than 68% of sophmores. Figures. As I once told my chemistry teacher when told that chemistry was as easy as math, "Math is not my strongpoint." And, lastly, I got a 65 on my writing skills, which means I scored better than 98% of sophmores. So there you have it. Now that all the numbers are out of my head...

*sigh*

Is it just me or does it seem like now, more than ever, people my age are supposed to have their live planned out? Maybe it's just who I surround myself with, but it feels like everyone around me has some inkling of an idea of who they want to become or what they want to do with their lives. And it's not that I don't know what I'm NOT good at. Obviously I'm never going to be a mathmetician or chemical engineer {may I direct you to paragraph 3, sentence 3 of this very blog post}. It's just....arg....

Somehow, in my own mind, I've come to the conclusion that they don't teach the things I need to know in school, and life is too short to do everything that I have on my list to do before I die. {Yes, I do indeed have a Bucket List. ... Yes, driving on the autoban is one of them.} It seems like it's not going to be possible for me to become an animal cop, photographer, comic book artist, writer, journalist, circus freak, makeup artist, selfdefense instructor, volleyball player, singer, creative writing teacher!! I mean how can I possibley do all of that in one life? And which one of these is what God wants me to do? What does He have in mind for me? What if His plans are completely different from my own and He wants me to surrender even my dreams to Him?

...

Can I give it up? Can I let it go? I dunno....I dunno.... the right answer is yes. Just as I'd say "Sure, if someone held a gun to my head and asked me if I was a Christian, I'd say yes" easily, but the moment someone with a pistol approaches me everything starts to get a little fuzzy and my determined resolutions of a moment before seem to blend together. Black and White mix around in their pait pots and turn into one, uniform, sickening grey... I don't think I'll ever know unless it happens - unless my fears are confirmed and I find myself staring down the barrel of a gun. I don't know if I could give up all I've hoped for.

But I sure hope I can. Because, you see, God works in myseterious ways, and it would be so like Him to completely shake me so that all I can hold on to in the world shifting and rumbling around me is Him, because He is the only constant security that I have. When my dreams shatter around me, I'll be forced to cling to Him like a child and trust Him to take care of me, instead of pretending to be tough and strong like I usually do. You see, {and it's strange I'm admitting this at all...perhaps I'll delete this post quite soon} strength is my favorite masquerade - my favorite mask to hide behind to show the world that I'm strong while I quiver in my boots and hope they can't see through me.

What would I do if my hopes were ripped away from me, my strength gone, my world shaken?
I don't think I'll know until it happens, and knowing my God, it just might. Because that would mean He would be my strength. And that's the way it should be.

Wrapping up this ventage-like-post-thing I suppose I shall one day delete....um...I forgot what I was going to say. Woops! Who knows? Perhaps I won't delete it. I guess it's pretty personal, but...I guess I don't mind. I guess I'm an open person. I guess, I guess, I guess because, you see, there's a lot I don't know about me.

ENOUGH ABOUT ME! What about y'all? Did anyone read this? Did anyone care? If you didn't, it's ok; it was more of a self-benefitting get-my-thoughts-out-type-of-thing, ya know?

Well...if anyone did read this and likes to read my blog for some strange reason...I have a few more story ideas running around in the twisted head of mine that I have. {what an odd sentence.} Obviously, the one i am writing now, Jessica...
I also am thinking about this one set in our world where this kid finds this portal cuz he's part dragon or something and he can travel to this other world.
Also, u know how I write like random scenes and stuff? Well, my friend wrote a story about this chick with cancer and that kind of inspired me to write a scene where this chick tells her best friend she has cancer and they like cry together, so I might turn that into something, and who knows - it might bless someone somewhere...I should pray about that one.........
NEXT! um........one that i haven't quite developed but I had the idea for this one time, is an alagorical story about this boy who wants to become a knight and the journey he goes through {symbolic to us, in our jouney as Christians}.
Next on the list would be the one about this guy in medival-magic times who goes on this journey to find this flower to save his dying sister and he meets this spoiled princess on the way and they travel together and stuff.

...that might be it......hm....yeah, i think that's it!

OH ONE MORE THING!
I saw Avatar recently, and I TOTALLY WANT TO BE ONE! I think it would be utterly amazing to be able to jump and climb and run and all that cool stuff like they do. I want to have a tail! i want cat-eats! I want to live in a world where the flowers go "blip!" and shrink into the earth! That was so funny. I want to live in their world so bad. AND OH MY GOODNESS I WANT ONE OF THOSE DRAGON THINGS THAT YOU CAN PLUG YOUR HAIR INTO!!!! Those things are so cool, they're like totally part of you, but they're....not..... I WANNA BE AN AVATAR!!!!

So, conclusively, your pants are on fire because the marshmellows licked them.

~ the slightly delusional Cap'n B! :D

Ch. 13 - The Dinner

"You're doing it wrong."

“I’m doing exactly what you told me to do.”

“I didn’t tell you to do what you’re doing.”

“You told me to wrap the man’s wrist, and if my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me, I happen to be wrapping the man’s wrist.”

“I told you to moisten the cloth, wipe the blood off of the man’s arm, dampen the bandage, smear herbs on the binding, and then wrap the man’s wrist. You’re a terrible listener,” Andrew said.

“You’re a terrible direction-giver,” Benji replied. He blinked, staring at the bandage he had incorrectly applied to a bleeding wrist. Turning to Andrew with a vacant face, he asked, “What did you say?”

Andrew shook his head with a smirk, leaned over Benji, and fixed the binding. The poor, shy man whose wrist was broken and bleeding could only watch the two boys, trying to figure out if he should request a different healer. It was later in the day. The sun was already down, outside, and the streets were turning cold. The infirmary was slightly emptier than it had been. Those with able legs were quick to leave the dreary interior of the building. A few healers still bustled about tending to the few patients left in the building.

“The moon will soon be up,” a voice reported, from behind the young men.

Andrew didn’t turn to acknowledge Jessica’s voice. The young woman peeked over his shoulder. “The binding’s applied wrong.”

Andrew and Benji exchanged humored expressions. Jessica peered at the grinning boys, wondering what had provoked such behavior. There was nothing funny about a broken wrist. She told them dinner would be starting soon, and they made sure there were enough willing hands to tend to the rest of the patients before leaving the old infirmary. They walked their way towards the tower of the new safe house. The streets were nearly empty now. The cold air made them shiver, but thankfully it wasn’t a long walk from the hospital to the tower.

Standing before the tower door, Jessica and Andrew moved to block Benji from reaching out to clasp the door handle.

“What?” Benji asked, his expression one that Jessica imagined she would find on a child deprived of a shiny, new toy.

“You realize that once you pass through the door, you can never go back?” Andrew asked.

Benji shoved his hands in his pockets. “I had assumed that ever since we entered the city. I don’t want to go back. The best way to fight my father is here…not from inside the castle.” He grinned. “Not that you could get rid of me if you wanted to.”

Jessica was as solemn as she could be. She got the impression he wasn’t taking this seriously enough. “And you know and accept that if you enter this building, you’re legitimately part of the resistance? You’re no longer the son of king Darfane; you’re an official member of the resistance, and we’ll expect you to act as such.”

Benji shrugged and shifted his weight impatiently. “I suppose. I can’t go back now, can I? Seeing as I know all your secrets and the like?”

“And if you reveal any of them, ever, we’ll hunt you down and torture you until you can’t feel your flesh aching anymore,” Andrew added.

Benji grinned. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that day very much seeing as you hate my guts and my guts can’t die.”

“I’ve been looking forward to that day since I met you,” Andrew admitted, grinning.

Benji reached out a hand for the doorknob.

Jessica grasped his arm, looking the prince straight in the eye. “One more thing. You can’t tell anyone that you’re the king’s son.”

“I had assumed so,” Benji said.

“People in the town aren’t exactly all for your father-”

“Understandable.”

“And there’s no telling how they’ll react if you tell them.”

“Of course.” Jessica released Benji’s arm and sighed. Benji gave her a wide grin. Andrew and Jessica rolled their eyes and stepped away from the door. The door opened with a creak and they walked through the doorway into the safe house.

“That’s it?” Benji asked. They were crammed in a small, dim room containing a table, two broken chairs, and a door at the far side of the wall. The walls were made of wooden beams, and tiny rifts in the walls let in slivers of dying light, illuminating a plain, dirty ground.

Andrew dropped to his knees and began patting the wooden floor. A few seconds later, his hands stopped on top of a small object connected to the ground. He cast a satisfied look back at his friends before wrenching open a trapdoor and hurrying inside.

Benji didn’t need Jessica to tell him that he was next. The prince disappeared through the hole without a word to her. Jessica cast one last look around the dingy room before following the two boys, pulling the door closed behind her. She found herself standing in a large hallway at the end of which resided a pair of large double-doors with brass handles. Doors lined each side of the hall, painted different colors with different numbers and words decorating their exteriors.

Jessica eagerly followed the boys down the hall toward the great room. Andrew arrived there first, and he threw the doors open wide. Noise blasted out, and firelight nearly blinded them. The sound of mugs hitting tabletops, and plates being set down echoed in the large room before them. Three long tables ran the distance of the room, laden with food and plates. Men, women, and children sat around the tables conversing and jesting and eating.

Almost immediately, Jessica and Andrew were bombarded with a few little girls who had more questions than they did teeth. The children grabbed their hands and led them over to a table, a small girl no older than six taking Benji’s hand shyly and asking him to sit by her. Plates were set before them by grinning faces, some familiar, and some not. It took a moment for Benji to soak in all that was going on.

The smell of something spicy yet tangy reached his nostrils, and a platter of steaming meat was set before him. He eagerly grabbed a few slices and began to devour them. They had been eating nothing but apples, bread, and a few grapes for the past four days. It was nice to have a real meal. Or as close to a real meal as they could get. There were only two plates of meat per table, one loaf of bread, and two bowls of fruit. The prince didn’t notice the fact that the portions were meager, nor did the Jessica and Andrew think it odd, for they had been given slim servings all their lives. They were simply happy to have hot food before them. They grinned at each other as they watched the prince eating.

“Are you enjoying your food?” Andrew asked through a bite of bread.

Benji nodded. “Yes! I don’t remember anything tasting this wonderful! Ever! Not even—” he trailed off, noting the attentive little ears around him. He cautiously continued, “Not even where I came from before.”

Jessica swallowed a mouthful of cordial and stroked her chin as if deep in thought. “You know, Andy,” she said, turning to him as if to discuss something as trivial as the weather. “I never thought Benji would find such satisfaction eating pig ears.”

Benji adopted his usual smug face. Unscathed, he replied quickly, “Of course I would; I eat all kinds of things.”

Andrew lifted an eyebrow. “Cow tongue?”

“I used to eat that for breakfast.”

“Horse tail?”

“Consider it a delicacy.”

“Fish eyes?”

“Every night with a glass of milk.”

“Newt liver.”

“I once had five in a row.”

Jessica jumped in with the question, “Dried Ogre kidney and Troll feet covered with steamed snail entrails?”

Benji gave her a stunned look. He seemed to be faltering for an answer to her unexpected contribution. Andrew’s face quickly turned into one of amusement. Jessica giggled. Benji gave her a sheepish look, but he couldn’t help chuckling. Soon, even the little girls sitting next to them were howling with laughter.

They enjoyed the rest of their meal, eating heartily and happily. No one asked where the meat really came from. In hard-pressed times, they took advantage of every opportunity where meat presented itself. Especially after battles.

A few minutes into their dinner, and after several people had introduced themselves to the trio, Andrew elbowed Jessica and pointed across the room. Benji sat across from them, unable to see what they had spotted. The six-year-old girl sitting next to him yanked on his sleeve. Benji’s eyebrows rose as she gestured behind him.

“There’s the Dane,” the girl whispered, her eyes riveted on the man she saw pacing down the aisle between two tables. Curious, Benji turned around on his wooden bench to stare at the man they called “The Dane”.

The Dane was tall, and lean, with thick arms nearly hidden by a large, leather jacket. He looked to be no more than twenty-five, and he greeted those around him with youthful energy, laughing and talking with everyone sitting around the tables. His broad, muscled chest was covered by a loose, brown shirt a few hues lighter than the trousers he wore. Tousled locks of dark hair fell almost below his jaw, and the hint of a beard beginning to grow shaded his chin. He was almost hard to see clearly because he was moving so quickly and turning one way and then the other in an effort to converse with everyone around him.

“He talks to you?” Benji asked.

Andrew turned from scrutinizing the man. “Yes...”

Jessica studied Benji’s face before commenting, “We believe a leader should be equal with the people they lead. No one likes a distant superior.” “Like your father,” she thought to herself.

The little girl beside Benji glanced up into the prince’s face. “Are you new?” she asked, eyes shining with curiosity.

“Uh…yes, you could say that,” Benji replied.

“What’s your name?”

“Penelope.”

The girl giggled. “No it’s not,” she insisted childishly.

“You’re right; I lied. It’s Benji. What’s yours?”

“Ting,” she said, smiling underneath wide, brown eyes.

“What is it you like to do, Ting?” Benji asked.

“I like to dance…and I can fight good. And sing. I like to sing.”

“What songs do you like to sing-sing, Ting-Ting?” he asked.

She giggled again. Jessica stared at the prince as he talked to the child. She couldn’t keep a smile from trickling onto her face. She watched him make a bead from the child’s necklace disappear and then pull it out of her ear. The child was immensely delighted at this, and giggled unceasingly for several minutes.

“That’s an interesting trick,” commented a voice. Jessica whirled around to find the Dane looming over them. “Welcome back,” he said to them, cheerfully. Two brown eyes danced in his square face. A firm chin poked out from underneath a broad, white smile. Jessica smiled and watched Andrew stand up and clap hands with the man. This was their leader. Strong. Brave. The Dane’s eyes roamed over Benji’s features. They were deep, dark eyes. Experienced. Knowing. Wise.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said, extending a large hand decorated with a few thick rings to Benji.

“Hello – I’m Benji.”

“The Dane.” They shook hands. “A new recruit, I assume?”

Jessica nodded.

The Dane’s eyes averted back to his loyal agents. “I trust he’s a sturdy fighter with a sharp mind?”

“Sturdy fighter, yes,” Jessica said, glancing at Benji, who had assumed an interested expression. “As for his mind…well, we all have our weaknesses.”

Benji’s eyes narrowed, but not threateningly. “What do you know of sharp minds? Your own is as sharp as the curve of a wagon wheel.”

Without blinking, Jessica shot back, “If that is true, than at least my wheel is still turning; yours is broken and doubtlessly stuck.”

The Dane let out a deep laugh, his white teeth contrasting well against his tan skin. “Oh, Jess, it’s good to have you back.” He leaned down to Benji, who was gaping at Jessica, and whispered, “Take no offense – mental jousting is just as important as sparring with swords, and this young maiden has had many opportunities to practice.”

Straightening, he said louder, “I didn’t expect you two here; I thought you were back in Tosh carrying out an assignment. Brooke and I got called on a meeting short-notice, or else we would have met you when you arrived back - what brings you to Darwol?”

Jessica swallowed. Andrew slowly rose from the bench. Suddenly Jessica felt sick to her stomach. The faces of her dead friends and the dead city rose, unbidden, in her mind. “Brooke didn’t tell you?”

The man’s jovial expression faded. “I haven’t seen Brooke since the battle…”

Neither three of the youths spoke. The Dane waited expectantly, sobering with each passing second.

Andrew’s soft response broke the silence that had slowly settled over the great hall. Everyone on every table was looking at them. “Soldiers. Tosh…is…dead.”

Jessica’s eyes closed. She could feel the sadness building in her chest. She fought it, focusing all her energy on breathing. Andrew’s eyes averted to the ground. Benji lowered his head respectfully, his gaze on the table in front of him. He was expecting for the people to burst into tears, or for a wailing to rise from the heart of the room.

No sound reached his ears. No one cried. Even the girl beside him stared numbly at Andrew. The Dane stared at the ground for a moment, not saying a word. His brow creased in concentration and his hands froze in a clenched position.

There was a flurry of motion that Benji saw from the corner of his eye. Brooke opened the door and began to walk in. Instantly aware of the pressing stillness, she paused and looked around. Spotting the Dane, she strode over to him confidently. Her arms wound their way around him in a tight embrace.

He raised his head and Brooke released him. He scooped up a lit candle from the nearest table and lifted it high, for all to see.

“Friends,” he addressed them, in a deep voice. He wasn’t shouting. He wasn’t whispering. His voice had reached an octave that seemed to rumble, though it was soft. The people sitting at tables all wordlessly took the candles lighting the room and lifted them. The girl next to Benji looked at him expectantly. He grabbed a candle and she placed her small hand over his; she was too young to handle flame by herself.

“Tonight we have seen the beginning of dark times yet to come…the creatures we have seen are many, and growing. The people we have lost were brave, and few. But the war is not over.” The firelight cast a vivid array of light and shadow across the Dane’s face and the sober crowd seated around him like a flock of sullen ghosts. “We will fight on.” Determination spread from his heart to his voice. “We will fight on for the ones we have left behind. We will fight on for those who cannot fight for themselves. We will fight because we have something worth fighting for.”

“Friends,” he turned around, making eye contact with as many people as he could. “Do not forget those who have died today, or the day before, or many days ago. They are the reason we fight on tomorrow.” He raised his candle higher. “For the brave men and women who gave their lives at Tosh.”

A few murmurs echoed about the room, whispered words of regret, or agreement, or pain. Then, as one and following the Dane’s lead, they all lowered their candles and blew them out. They were cast into complete darkness. Jessica wondered if this was how Melody had felt…if this was like dying. Complete stillness, and darkness, and silence.

Ch. 12 - The Injured

Jessica’s perceptive gaze swept over the streets. A few people had fallen and hadn’t stirred from where they lay. The bodies of soldiers as well as citizens could be seen sprawled across the streets. She eyed the body of the bird-like creature that Benji had killed. The young men stood beside her, studying the mass of flesh hiding underneath black armor. Its head was bald save for a few scruffy feathers poking out of its black skin, arranged like a misshapen crown. Its red eyes stared blindly up at the three companions through translucent eyelids. The large, hard beak poked out of its face, partially opened in a sneer that revealed its nasty, black teeth. A scrawny, bird-like neck protruded from the black breastplate, and the rest of its body was covered in its armor.

“What is it?” Jessica asked.

Benji replied without a trace of his usual smugness. “It’s a Waranger. I learned of those in my mythology class. Terrible beasts. The only way to kill them is with fire; otherwise they’re virtually indestructible.”

A hand grasped Jessica’s forearm firmly. Alarmed, she gasped and spun around. Andrew grinned.

“Jess!” a voice exclaimed, behind her. The hand loosened its hold and Jessica found herself staring into the eyes of a friend.

“Brooke!” she responded, laughing. The two young women embraced each other and chuckled, happy to be united once again. “It feels like much more than three days!” Jessica clasped her friend’s forearms and held her, examining her friend with a smile.

Brooke was a good two inches taller than Jessica, and her skin was as dark as the night sky in the summertime. Her face was shaped like a heart, and her black hair fell in unorganized curls around it. She possessed two unusually large, brown eyes that stuck out of her skin, and a white smile so huge it almost balanced out her wide eyes. She wasn’t extremely skinny, but rather possessed a muscular build, not that it was very apparent underneath her full-length skirt and over-sized blouse. She was several years older than Jessica, but she looked young and full of energy.

“Welcome back,” she said, her voice light and cheerful. She glanced over at Andrew, and then her eyes wandered over to the beggar beside them.

“He’s with us,” Jessica said. “New recruit.”

Benji gave her a charming grin, sticking out his hand. “Hello, I’m Benji,” he said.

Brooke clasped his hand in hers and shook it heartily. “I’m Brooke. Co-head of the resistance. My husband, the Dane, is in charge around here.” Her bug-like eyes shifted to search the rooftops. “He was helping the archers last time I saw him.” Her attention reverted back to the trio. “We got called here last-minute. Scout came and told us we’d been summoned.” She looked past them and around them, like she was expecting someone else to emerge from the shadows of the ramshackle houses. “Where’s the rest of the league?”

A shadow of regret passed over Jessica’s face. Andrew shook his head and answered, “Dead. The army killed everyone in Tosh. Apparently, while we were gone, the soldiers came and obliterated everything. When we got there, everyone inside the safe house was dead or dying. Justin told us where you had gone, and that’s how we knew where to find you.”

Brooke’s smile melted off her face. “All of them?” she whispered. Jessica nodded, trying to block out the images in her mind of her friends who were dead. Brooke closed her eyes, raised her hands to cover her face, and said nothing.

“It appears you two left just in the nick of time,” Andrew said.

“Indeed. We should hold a ceremony for them,” Brooke said, opening her eyes again. They were moist, but she didn’t allow a tear to slide down her cheek. People had begun to move again, and some had taken to clearing the streets of bodies. Others tended to the wounded. The archers had disappeared from the rooftops, and Jessica suspected they were meandering about the streets, helping wherever someone needed an extra hand.

Brooke sniffed and took Jessica’s hand. “Time for that later; we need to tend to the wounded now.” She led them through the people and bodies of the street, approaching a small building that looked less deteriorated than some of the others. Jessica made it a point not to look at the dead people. It would only make her sick, or sad, both of which were signs of weakness.

They approached the wooden door in the stone building and Brooke pushed it open. Tables lined both walls of the crowded room, and the smell of smoke floated by Jessica’s nostrils. Wounded people were sprawled out over the tables. Small candles rested on top of the side tables, upon which sat various herbs, bindings, and other items meant to help heal the sick. Jessica’s eyes jumped from one being to the next. Blood dripping down an extended arm…someone clutching their leg, their face wrinkled in pain… a hand clutching a shoulder that looked as if it had popped out of its joint.

Jessica swallowed. Brooke led them to the back of the room, pulling up the sleeves of her large shirt. They stopped in front of a table upon which a man sat, waiting. His dark, shaggy hair covered his eyes, and he sat with his back resting against the wall. A hood covered his face. He gripped his bloodied arm loosely in his other hand. Brooke turned to Andrew and Benji. “You two want to get started with them?” she asked, gesturing toward a few bodies draped over tables no more than ten yards away.

Andrew nodded. Benji said softly, “I’ve never…tended to anyone before…”

“Do what I say and you might be alright,” Andrew said, a hint of a smirk on his face. Jessica watched the two boys walk off, out of earshot. She let out a long sigh and turned to her friend, the heavy mood of the room settling over her soul and dampening her spirit.

“Can you dip that cloth in water and hand it to me, please?” Brooke asked as she took the bloodied arm in her grasp and inspected it. Jessica blinked at the bowl of water resting on the table next to a rag and a pile of dried plants. She doused the cloth in water and handed it, dripping, to Brooke.

Jessica watched the woman talk to the man, gently wiping away the blood from his arm. He didn’t say anything in response. He had thick gashes down his forearm and snaking around to his elbow, and it looked like the bone of his elbow was sticking out of his skin. Brooke worked quickly to cleanse his skin from dirt and blood. She glanced around, searching for something impatiently.

“Jess, could you find me a length of rope?”

Jessica wordlessly floated around the tables until she found the necessary item and brought it back. Brooke took the rope and placed it in the man’s good hand. “Bite this.”

For the first time, the man spoke. His voice was deep but smooth, and Jessica imagined he might sound nice as a singer. “I don’t need that.”

Brooke placed a hand on her hip. “It’s going to hurt, and I won’t have you screaming to the whole hospital making them think we don’t treat you well. You need to bite the rope to withstand the pain.”

He raised his head, and Jessica was slightly startled by his features. Long scars stretched down the corners of his cheeks, the purple lines spreading across the bridge of his nose and even over his neck. Tattoos and designs decorated his jaw and covered his throat. His firm chin was set in defiance, and he stared at the young women from underneath dark eyebrows. “Don’t speak to me of pain. I don’t need a rope.”

His eyes were so dark they looked black, and he stared at Brooke challengingly. Jessica thought for a moment that she would retort with a clever remark. Instead, she merely reached out, firmly gripped his elbow, and snapped it back into place with a jolt. A pop issued from his body, but the man only flinched, keeping his eyes on the young woman.

Brooke began to dress his wound, Jessica wordlessly handing her herbs and cloth bandages. “What do they call you?” she asked.

He rested his head against the wall behind him. A few dark locks of hair shifted with the motion. Jessica couldn’t keep herself from staring at the man’s strange facial markings. It was like he had gotten in a fight with a razor blade gone mad.

“They call me many things,” his voice rumbled from beneath the hood he was adjusting over his face, obscuring his mangled features. “You may call me Jaimus.”

Brooke finished tying the cloth bandage around his arm. “Do you live in the city?”

“I was coming through for a meeting. With your husband, I believe.” Brooke stared at him.

“You’re the storyteller, aren’t you?” Brooke’s fingers slid off the man’s arm and he slowly pulled it towards himself, his eyes roaming over the mended appendage with approval.

“Another of my many names.” He swung his legs around the edge of the table and jumped off, lightly landing on his feet. “Come; help me find him.”

“There are still men to be tended to,” Jessica said. The hood swung in her direction.

Brooke crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ll have to wait and talk with him later; the meeting invitation still stands. Be in the war room an hour before Sun Up.” The man spun around and slunk out of the hospital.

Jessica released a breath without realizing she had been holding it. Brooke sighed and faced her. “Come on.” They headed over to another injured man. “Tell me of what happened on your mission,” Brooke said.

Jessica told her about the wolves they had seen, and walking into the city to find their home destroyed. “Your beggar friend – who is he?” Brooke asked as she wrapped a huge gash on someone’s leg. Jessica applied herbs to the adjacent patient’s arm.

She hesitated for a moment, cautiously eying the injured people around her. A woman who sat eying her quickly turned away, embarrassed for being caught eavesdropping. Jessica licked her lips almost nervously. The announcement that the heir to the throne was still alive and posing as a beggar was not one she wished to make public. Brooke, noticing her friend’s silence, turned to scrutinize her.

“Come,” Jessica said, heading toward the door. Once they were both outside, Jessica searched the streets with her eyes to make sure no one was listening. A few people lingered about the bloody streets, but many had gone home or to help at the crumbling infirmary. Satisfied no one was close enough to hear her, Jessica whispered, “Benji is the prince.”

Brooke stared at her. “What?”

“King Darfane’s son. That’s Benji.”

Brooke grabbed Jessica’s shoulders and squeezed them tightly. Her eyes seemed to pop out more than usual as she exclaimed in a strained whisper, “You were supposed to kill him!”

“I couldn’t! I can’t!”

“Jess-”

“He can’t die.”

“I can’t believe this. You’ve been killing all your life, why choose now to—”

“No, Brooke, literally, he can’t die,” Jessica replied quickly, trying to make her friend understand. “He was enchanted by a faerie at birth. Andrew and I have seen it happen – even in the battle today, he took a blow for Andrew that went clean through his body, and got up afterward.”

Brooke gaped at her. Jessica continued, “And Benji’s different from his father. He’s not what I expected. He actually agrees with what we stand for – in fact, I think he’d be useful in the resistance. The fact that he can’t die would make him a valuable asset.”

Brooke shook her head as if to clear it. “But…faeries are exiled. We’ve even recently received word that most of them have been killed off by soldiers. It seems that the king’s army is seeking out anyone capable of doing anything magical and killing them.”

“Benji was enchanted at birth. Before the ban. And so was the king – neither of them can die.” Jessica had a sudden thought. “I bet that’s why king Darfane banished the faeries and magical creatures – if faeries can bless royalty with eternal life, what would stop them from making any old beggar off the street invincible?”

Brooke released her friend’s shoulders and rubbed her face with her hands. She let out a long sigh. “We’re fighting a king that can’t die?”

Jessica didn’t answer. Despair trickled into her heart discreetly like water dripping from a tree branch. “We have Benji on our side,” she said quietly.

“Mm,” Brooke said, hiding behind her hands.

“Are we going to tell the Dane?” Jessica asked tentatively.

Brooke let her hands fall. “No,” she said. “I’ll tell him.” She looked tired now. Strained. “I need to find him first. Jess, help Andy and Benji with the rest of the injured. Dinner at sundown. Meet in the tower. We’ll talk about things later.” Jessica watched her walk away, her shadow darkening the street underneath her determined pace. Jessica ran a hand through her hair, her eyes roaming the now-empty streets illuminated by the setting sun. The air was suddenly chilly, and she shivered as she contemplated everything that had happened that day. They now knew the king was invincible. They now knew he was killing magical creatures to keep commoners from becoming indestructible. They now knew he had strange, unknown creatures in his army that were incredibly hard to kill.

The weight of hopelessness pressed down on Jessica. She suddenly felt very small and insignificant. Things were changing. Times were ending and a new era was beginning. Strange things were happening behind the walls of king Darfane’s castle. It unnerved her and made her shudder. It was like the wind of uncertainty, stirring her bones and chilling her thoughts from the inside.

Ch. 11 - The City

“How do I look?”

“Like a scrawny, low-life, half-starved, no-name beggar,” Andrew responded to Benji’s question.

“Good.” Benji grinned. Jessica and Andrew had spent the last half hour ripping Benji’s clothes and covering him with dirt. No one could know this was the king’s son. There was no telling how people would react. They had decided the farthest thing from a king would be a beggar, so they had done their best to make Benji look like one. Jessica rubbed her chin, scanning Benji’s features.

His hair was now considerably darker due to the mud and dust covering his natural blonde mop. The dirt and grime over his cheekbones made his blue eyes seem brighter, but blue eyes weren’t uncommon. His pants were frayed at the bottom, and Andrew had ripped the neckline of his shirt. Jessica nodded, pleased.

“It’ll do.”

The three companions turned to survey the large city outstretched before them; they were on a large hill below which Darwol lay silently a mile away. From the looks of it, Darwol was like most of the cities in this kingdom. The walls around the gate, though still standing, were deteriorating. Shrubs and grass had claimed the piles of broken stone as their own. The towers, which had once been uniform and impressive, were now crooked and bent over. One of the towers studding the corners of the city had completely fallen over. The gate in the center of the tall, old walls had been opened, as if eager to welcome anyone foolish enough to wander into the bleak city.

As Benji, Jessica, and Andrew walked down the hall toward the city, a feeling of reality began to settle over them. For Andrew and Jessica, this was their new home. For Benji, this was horrifying. They grew closer to the city, and the road they were traveling on grew rugged and uneven. Benji glanced from the faces of his captors to the city.

He was beginning to understand. This was the life they had known. The life his father had forced upon them. The pair of friends looked weary and tired. And yet, they were relieved. There was an unspoken acceptance in the eyes of the kidnappers. Benji wondered what kind of people they were returning to, that made them find composure in this dismal place.

The trio passed through the crumbling gates. The inside of the city wasn’t any better than the outside. Houses were crammed together so tightly their roofs had become crooked, like they were being pushed by the roofs around them. Shingles and tiles littered the streets. Doors hung, half-open, in empty doorways. Some people wandered about the street, with large eyes and thin stomachs.

Benji’s eyes connected with those of a young boy’s. The boy stared at him without blinking as they passed by, then darted around a corner without saying a word. The men and women wandering the streets didn’t give the newcomers any acknowledgement; they kept about their business, whether that was finding their children or trying to buy something to eat. No one noticed the two youths with a beggar in tow wandering down the streets cluttered with broken barrels and crates.

“There’s the North Tower,” Jessica pointed out to Benji, whispering over her shoulder. He grunted in response, still gaping at the pathetic city around him. Jessica nudged Andrew with her elbow and gestured to the solitary building. Her heart was glad; she was so close to being united with the resistance. So close to being in an environment in which she could properly function. So close to what she would soon call home.

“Not much to look at. Kind of twists your tummy a bit, doesn’t it?” Benji said softly. No one answered.

A rising excitement had seized Jessica, jolting her stomach and giving her a giddy sense of expectation. She worked hard to keep her energy from spilling onto her face. They were not far now. Soon she’d see the faces of her friends, and –

Someone screamed. A bell began ringing. The sound of pots being dropped and broken reached her ears. The people meandering about suddenly began to dart through the streets. Panic gripped Jessica’s heart. Shouts echoed from the lips of one hysterical citizen to the next. A growing sound reached her ear. Horses. Hooves pounding against crooked, stone streets.
“Attack!”
“Soldiers!”
“Hide!” Various cries echoed about the frenzied streets. The hope in Jessica’s eyes died, and in its place, a fear born of confusion began to grow. For a moment, she and her friends stood completely still, shocked. The sound of horses surging around the city streets echoed dully in their ears, slightly distant and muffled. Then, as if awaking from a spell, she and Andrew dove across the street, pulling Benji behind them.

They crouched behind a row of disintegrating crates as sleek, dark shapes began streaming through the city streets. Jessica’s body was rigid as she held herself low to the ground, every muscle in her body tensed and ready. How could this be happening? They were home…everything was supposed to be made right now. A shadow fell over the three from behind the crates, and they barely had time to move before a sword came swishing through the air, splitting the boxes in half. Jessica rolled over and jumped to her feet, her dagger already flying through the air.

It lodged itself in a soldier’s chest, and he slid off his black steed with a dull “thud”. The horse reared and galloped away, nostrils flaring and hair blazing behind it like dark tongues of fire. Jessica retrieved her knife, her heart beating quickly and making the blood rush to her face.

All around her, citizens were running from the soldiers, or trying to fight them. The men on horses struck at them with spears, swords, and cutlasses. Their dark armor was painted with a red crest of arms. A sign Jessica had come to fear and hate. King Darfane’s sign. The commoners were desperately running inside the buildings closest to them, but the warriors would only follow them in and slay them where they cowered. A few brave men faced off to them with axes or knives, the only weapons they could find on such short notice.

A noise caught Jessica’s attention and she whipped around, ducking in the process. A blade sliced the empty air where her neck had been moments ago. She kicked the knee of whoever had attacked her and reached out to steal his weapon. Gripping the shaft of his spear, she twisted it hard until it was released with a yelp. Something slammed into her back, knocking her to the ground.

Jessica sprawled out on the cobblestones, the spear falling inches away from her fingertips. The sound of metal clashing against metal met her ears as she desperately crawled forward to grab the spear. As her fingers brushed the weapon, a metal boot stomped down on it. Her heart stopped beating as she fearfully glanced up to discover who the boot belonged to.

A soldier with a drawn cutlass stared down at her before raising his arm to slice her head off. A sword burst out of his chest. As quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared. The man’s weapon slipped from his fingers and he fell to his knees so quickly Jessica barely had time to move out of the way before his body toppled to the ground. When she rose, spear in hand, she found Benji panting and brandishing a bloody sword. Their eyes met, and she hoped he could read the wordless gratitude she felt.

“There’s too many!”Andrew shouted, somewhere to Jessica’s left. She turned and saw him finishing off a soldier with a short sword. He was right. The people were weak, and few. The soldiers were strong, and many. They didn’t have a chance. She frowned. More black shapes began to filter through the men and children wandering around. Those weren’t soldiers. But they carried weapons like soldiers. Her eyes studied these new arrivals as she wrestled with the panic rising in her chest.

Men dressed in black armor ran through the streets, slicing and killing with the soldiers. Jessica had never seen these men before. They looked like men, at least, though the way that they moved suggested they were animals. They crouched low to the ground, almost in a squat, before leaping up and striking their prey. They twisted their heads side to side, as if listening, and then moved quickly toward their next foe in a lolloping gait resembling a gallop. The way in which they killed their enemies sent a cold, numb feeling across Jessica’s skin. It was unnatural. Inhuman. She couldn’t catch a glimpse of their faces, for they were all angled away from her. It unnerved her.

“Jess!” a cry reached her ears. A moment later she found herself blocking the blow of one of the black-armored creatures. The spear she had been carrying was split in two by the force of the cutlass swinging down on the old wood. She stumbled back, her eyes locked on the man’s face. Only it wasn’t a man.

Two red eyes stared at her from above a hooked beak. The beak opened, revealing shark-like teeth, as it raised a shrieking war cry. It lunged forward, but she stepped aside. It shuffled toward her like a crab, swinging its cutlass the whole time. Its neck twisted and it looked at her as a bird might look at a worm before gobbling it up. She tried to scream, but the sound stuck in her throat and she could only gape at the creature before her.

Andrew was suddenly on its back, his face distorted with rage and ferocity. He stabbed his knife into the beast’s fleshy neck, and it cried out. He stabbed it again, yelling. It screeched and toppled over. Andrew jumped up and turned to Jessica.

Before he had uttered a word, the creature was back up again. “Wha—” she started to murmur, confused.

It pulled back its cutlass and struck at Andrew. Benji jumped in between the blade and the boy, pushing Andrew out of the weapon’s course of motion. The metal had found a home in Benji’s stomach, and he fell to his knees slowly, his face scrunching up in a grimace. The beast warbled a joyous cry and drew the weapon out of the boy, turning to his other victims.

Streaks of fire began to fall from the sky. Jessica glanced up quickly, curious but afraid to divert her attention from the warrior for more than a few seconds. Archers! The resistance! The heads of men and women could be seen poking up from the rooftops, their flaming arrows casting heavy shadows on their faces.

A fiery arrow landed near Andrew and Jessica, but it had missed the monster approaching them eagerly. A hand grasped the arrow’s shaft and rammed the burning tip into the skull of the beast. The creature fell, and this time it didn’t rise up again. Benji crossed his arms and eyed the carcass. “Sorry, but we can’t have two regenerating warriors running about, can we?” His voice joked but his eyes were like two stones. “Too much of a good thing can get old and all that.”

The resistance on the roof aided the fight, and almost instantly the odds were turned. There were a great number of archers; maybe seventy-five or so. The citizens on the ground took a new, fresh hope, and fought with more vigor. The king’s soldiers and the creatures in black sensed that they were fighting a losing battle. The call for retreat sounded loud, and the army withdrew from the streets like a cat retracting its claws.

The commoners let out a triumphant cry. Jessica, Andrew, and Benji joined in, raising their weapons and smiling. Jessica almost laughed to release the tension that had built up inside of her. Joy erupted on Andrew’s face, and he let out a whoop. Benji joined in, and they clapped each other on the backs like they were old friends. Jessica shook her head and smiled. She wasn’t going to try to understand them. She studied the archers on the roofs and a warm feeling spread from her heart throughout her body. This was home. These were her friends fighting beside her. It was like smelling a hot, apple pie after returning from a five-mile walk.

Ch 10 - The Nightmare

Jessica breathed out her tension and breathed in the warm, night air. It had been a full day since she had last seen the wolves. They had left their new friends at the edge of the forest, and after saying goodbye, followed Benji through the long, flat meadows of the region. The terrain had begun to grow smooth and grassy. It was easy traveling from here on out, or so Benji claimed.
Jessica stared at Benji, who was sleeping a few yards away. His tousled hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his face in a comical way. His limbs were sprawled out as if he had fallen and then instantly dozed off. Andrew also was happily snoring nearby, probably deep into some blissful dream. Jessica’s attention drifted, and she found her mind re-visiting the safe house in Tosh. Melody, Max, Jacob… how many more would die because of the insane king ruling them? The king that could never die? The tyrant with an endless rule? King Darfane. She shivered at the thought of his name.

Jessica thought of the tawny-furred wolf, and Moon Shadow, and how their voices were rusting inside their throats. How many other creatures were there, hidden, afraid to show their faces...cowering in silence? So the king had ordered the exile to explain the absence of magical creatures from the land, and then chased them, murdering them. Did faeries still exist? Or were they now extinct? Had any other creatures beside the Moon wolves escaped the bloodbath? She could almost picture the soldiers slaying down unicorns and centaurs in her mind’s eye as they ran for cover. It sickened her.

Jessica ran a hand through her long, golden hair. The night was hot, and her hair was annoying and stuck to the back of her clammy neck. She began to braid it, quickly, as she thought.
Benji suddenly sat up, rubbing his eyes. He glanced around him, a bewildered look on his face. He spotted Jessica sitting across from him and blinked several times, the information that he was in the woods with his kidnappers slowly trickling through his mind. Jessica chuckled on the inside as she rummaged through the supply bag and pulled out a canteen of water.

She scooted over to him and held out the container. He eyed it suspiciously. “Drink this,” she insisted. “It’s water. It’ll help cool you down.” He slowly took the canteen and managed to gulp down some of the liquid. Realizing it was indeed water and not some kind of unusual poison, he chugged about half of what was left.

“Save some for tomorrow,” Jessica said. He guiltily lowered the dripping container and wiped a sleeve across his lips.

“Thanks,” he said. There was an awkward silence, in which Jessica found she couldn’t look at anything for more than a few seconds. Her eyes jumped everywhere except to the boy beside her.

“Nightmares,” Benji said, suddenly. She looked at him, startled.
“What?”

“Nightmares. I’ve had them since I was little,” Benji explained.

“Oh.”

“I know it’s terrible…I’m almost a grown man and I still have nightmares. No one wants a king who can’t fearlessly face up to sleep.” Benji stared at the ground, his usual grin completely vacant from his face.

Jessica was puzzled. She didn’t understand at all. Nevertheless, she felt a twinge of sympathy for him. “When I was little, I used to have nightmares every night,” she said.

The young prince examined her skeptically. “You? The fearless killer and kidnapper-”

“I’m not a kidnapper.”

“No?” Benji’s eyebrows rose inquisitively. “Oh, that’s right; you just steal into people’s homes in the middle of the night, wake them up, hold a knife to their head, and march them away, never to return.”

Jessica didn’t know if she was supposed to laugh or become irritated at that statement. “We weren’t supposed to kidnap you…”

“Then why did you?” Benji asked. He was so curious. Andrew had never asked half as many questions as Benji had in the first two days she’d known him.

“Because… it occurred to me that we could sneak out the front door if we took you with us.”

“But that wasn’t why you were there; you were there to kill me, and you didn’t. If you had killed me then, you could’ve gone back the way you came, which would have been ideal because the way you left, all my guards and soldiers saw you. I’m guessing you didn’t particularly want a whole army of men on your tails…”

Jessica realized he was right. She also realized she didn’t know why she had reacted the way she did that night, however, she refused to let her confusion show. “It doesn’t matter; you can’t die anyway. You’d be very good in the resistance,” she told the prince. They said nothing for a few minutes. Jessica studied the stars, painfully aware of the nagging silence engulfing them.

“Just out of curiosity,” Benji began, “What would you have done once you had killed me?”

“The resistance would take over. We already had the next leader picked out.”

“That’s tyranny.”

“We’d turn it into a democracy.” Jessica stood up. “You don’t understand how the world works. We are the people. We roam the streets. We go hungry. We suffer. We fight. We know what it is to be a subject to a king who is distant – who doesn’t care. With one of us in charge, the kingdom would change for good.” Jessica crossed her arms over her chest. Her voice had remained level and she was quite calm, although she had to admit she was a tad bit frustrated.

Benji stood up, too, but his arms were spread out as if to portray his innocence. “How do you know I wouldn’t have changed things for good? I’m not my father.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “People on the streets are dying, Benji. We’re not going to sit around and wait for the king to die and you to take over.”

Andrew let out a small shout and sat up. “The leaf monster is licking my toe!” he said loudly. Jessica and Benji sharply turned to give him amused looks. He slumped back over, fast asleep.

Jessica grinned. “He has always talked in his sleep,” she explained, gazing at his snoring form. Benji tilted his head to the side.

“Are you siblings?”

“What?”

“You and Andy.”

Jessica let out a chuckle. “No, but just about. We grew up together. In the resistance. There wasn’t anyone else our age in our league to play with, so we entertained each other.”

“In your league?” Benji repeated. “How many leagues of the resistance are there?”

“A lot. They’re all over the kingdom. Almost every city has their own.”

“That is a lot,” Benji said. He sat back down abruptly, rocking slightly to absorb the impact.

“That might be enough for a small army.”

Jessica said nothing. It was enough for a small army. The Dane had sometimes talked of uniting all their forces and openly retaliating against the king’s army. For some reason or another, they never had. Jessica sighed and sat down.

Benji’s blue eyes roamed over her face. Her mind was like a new book, and he was eager to peek inside her pages and read her. “What exactly is the resistance?” he asked.

“We’re an organization…a group of people. We help others. The citizens. Those who can’t help themselves.” Jessica searched for words to describe what she had come to know and accept as her way of living. “You know how your father, King Darfane, believes that those who can’t pay their taxes should be executed? Or those who speak against him? Or those who have been associated with magic-users?”

Jessica pulled her knees up to her chest. Her face was turned toward the trees in front of her, her eyes glazed over. “Have you ever seen one of them die?”

Benji didn’t reply. She looked at him, for now it was her turn to study his face. After a moment, she continued, “Your father would sentence men and women to death as easily as he would dispose of an old garment, but he’d never show up to watch them hang to death.” She turned to stare at the trees again. “He’s never seen them twitching and gurgling while they dangle from the noose. Because they couldn’t make enough money. Because they stole to feed their families. Because they didn’t agree with your father.”

Benji didn’t say anything; he only listened silently to what Jessica had to say. “The agents of the resistance are trying to put a stop to all this,” she continued. “If a spy gets word of a prisoner being held at a location near us, we break them out. We take in the families whose fathers have been killed. Do you remember when one of your stables caught on fire and the king’s men couldn’t travel the country for at least a week?”

Benji stared at her. “That was us,” she said, proudly. He rubbed a hand over his cheek and rested it underneath his chin, contemplatively.

“And you’ve killed before?”

The question seemed out of place in their conversation. “Yes,” Jessica replied, “I’ve fought in raids and battles. Every time the soldiers come to take taxes, riots break out.”

“How many?”

“What?”

“How many men have you killed?” he asked in all seriousness. Who was this boy who could laugh about death one moment and then keep a straight face the next?

“Benji, I’ve fought in many battles…I’ve been fighting since I was eight. You don’t expect me to remember how many men I’ve killed, do you?” Jessica replied.

“You don’t remember any of them?” Benji asked. She tried to read his expression. Innocent. Naïve. Curious. Sincere. He wouldn’t understand.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” she asked.

“No. I mean, not if you don’t count me,” Benji said, allowing a small smile to slip onto his face.

“I’ve tried to kill myself…just to test it out. See how good the fairies’ magic works. They mean what they say.”

Jessica shook her head. “So there’s really no way to kill you?”

Benji’s lips rolled over his teeth. “Not that I know of…” His eyes turned to examine the sky

Jessica seemed so captivated with. “Once we get to Darwol… you’re not going to let me go, are you?”

Jessica swallowed and wondered how she should answer. It was an issue she and Andrew had talked about before, when they had switched guard and Benji was sleeping. It wasn’t like they could just let him go…he already knew too much about the resistance. If he went back to his father, they would be ruined. On the other hand, it wasn’t as if they could kill him either… they still hadn’t decided what to do. There was no easy way to answer his question.

She didn’t have to. “What would you say if I told you I wanted to join the resistance?” Benji asked.

Jessica looked at him sharply. A hopeful smile decorated his face. She bit her bottom lip and her eyes narrowed. “Hm…I’d say that’s a difficult subject to discuss,” Jessica replied.

“Really?” Benji asked.

“Yes,” she responded.

“I have something to tell you.”

“What?”

Benji’s face was almost completely serious. “I think I want to join the resistance.”

“That’s a difficult subject to discuss.”

“I had a feeling you would say that.”

“Really? What brought this on?” Jessica asked, trying to act surprised.

“Well, there’s this boy and this girl that I met—”

“Relatives?”

“Possibly cousins once removed. Or long-lost twins that look nothing alike.”

“I see.”

“Anyway, they have grown on me in the past few days--”

“Grown on you? What do you mean?” she asked, curious as well as eager to poke fun at him.

“Well, they are the first people I’ve met that seem to have an actual purpose to their lives. And they stand for everything I seem to stand for…and, frankly, I don’t want to go back to my father. It’s like they took me out of a prison I couldn’t seem to escape from and now I have the chance to fight against it.”

“You want to fight against a prison?”

“And free the people I have hurt…” he sighed. “It seems my father has done a lot of damage in this kingdom…maybe I can help to fix it.”

Jessica considered the suggestion he made. “Hm…” she said out loud. “You do realize if you become an agent of the resistance, you’ll be a no-name commoner and not the king’s son?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he insisted.

“And you’ll have to learn to fight.”

He smirked. “Don’t worry. I once pinned an agent who was sent to kill me against the wall.”

Jessica felt her face get red. She stood suddenly, defensive. “Maybe the agent wasn’t expecting her target to be awake while she was trying to assassinate him.”

“Then obviously that agent has never tried to assassinate a target with nightmares.” He rose, too. Smugness shone on his face.

“Maybe that’s because the agent was used to killing battle-hardened men, not boys afraid of sleep,” she spat back.

“Ouch,” Benji said, placing a hand over his heart as if wounded. She would have regretted it, if he was genuinely hurt, but the trace of a smirk lingered about his lips.

Jessica crossed her arms, her smarting pride solaced a bit by the fact that he had no reply to her retort. “Go to sleep, nightmare prince.”

Benji smiled slightly. He didn’t act as if she had just outdone him. “You’d better wake your twin to switch turns watching. You’re both going to need energy if we’re to reach Darwol by morning.”

“Goodnight, Benji,” she hissed. It was more of a command for him to sit down and sleep than a cordial farewell.

He did as she implied with a cheerful, “Goodnight, Jess,” and then rolled over in the grass.

Jessica’s eyes upturned to the stars. They stared down at her, twinkling and winking as if nothing in the world had ever gone wrong. She woke Andrew shortly and then lay down to try to get some sleep. It was almost impossible. Her mind couldn’t settle down. Her thoughts jumped from her dead friends to her live ones waiting for her at Darwol; the story of the wolves, to Benji and Andrew … It was like trying to bottle the fury of a hurricane.