Page 62 of The Witch who Trades with Death

Chapter Sixty-Two

The sun set, bathing the mountains in red light and black shadows. Lueti had tied ropes around Khana’s wrists to secure her hands, on top of her clothes rather than letting the hemp dig into her skin. Itehua, Xopil, Lueti, and Yxe pointed spears at Khana, staying carefully out of breath’s range. Neta stood a little apart, and everyone else was hidden in the mountain, in little caves and under boulders, invisible even to the trained eye.

Even in a thick dress and boots, Khana felt naked. No armor, hands bound, only one little knife hidden in her boot. The dried blood on her nose itched, and her cheeks ached. She reached up and touched her necklace, fingers finding the obsidian frog. It steadied her breathing. Small, inconspicuous, and deadly to the touch. That was what she was going to be.

It ends today. One way or another, I’m ending it today.

“Incoming,” Itehua warned, sharp eyes on the sky.

The shriek of a behemoth over the mountains made everyone jump. The group tightened the grips on their spears.

The behemoth landed, dust sweeping up under its wings. Khana swallowed. Please let this work.

A man in full metal armor slid off, followed by eight bodyguards. Khana bit back a smile, instead trying to look scared and beaten.

“You’re Reguallian,” the man said to Neta.

There had been some debate over who should lead these negotiations. Sava was technically the correct choice, being the highest ranked Ghuran. But they’d decided he was best as an archer, which required being hidden, so Neta took the lead.

“Half,” she said. “I’m Serji Neta.”

“Prince Chanido.” His helmet allowed them to only see his eyes, but Khana could vaguely recall his face. One of Yamueto’s younger grandsons, or maybe great-grandson. His armor was thick and all-encompassing; it would be almost impossible to get a blade into his flesh without magical strength.

“Chief Phramanka sent me to ensure the terms of our agreement,” Neta said.

“As far as I’m aware, the terms are we take the traitor concubine, and in exchange give you and your town a grace period of one fortnight.”

Neta nodded toward Khana. “Be careful with her. She almost killed my soldiers.”

Chanido grunted and held up a vial. “Have her drink this. It’ll knock her out.”

Uh-oh.

“For how long?” Neta asked.

“What do you care?”

“If she wakes up halfway through and causes trouble, I don’t want your emperor to blame us.”

Chanido gave a condescending sigh. “We have the greatest alchemists in the world, girl. She’ll be down for at least an hour. Probably more, given her size.”

Yxe shifted. Khana glanced at him, sharing a quick panicked look.

“You’re a witch?” Neta asked.

“Obviously,” he said.

She stepped aside. “Then you give it to her. Boy.”

The prince glared at her. Neta did not back down.

Chanido approached Khana, keeping half an eye on Neta. She stepped aside so she was not directly behind him, instead closer to his bodyguards.

Chanido stayed just outside of spear range of Khana. He held up the vial. “You’re going to drink this, and not cause any trouble,” he said, like he was speaking to a child.

Khana shrank into herself, glancing at Neta, now within arm’s reach of the bodyguards who all watched Khana. Neta tightened her grip on her spear and gave Khana a tiny nod.

She obediently opened her mouth.

The prince sighed, stepping forward and uncapping the vial. “Would that you were this obedient in the palace,” he muttered.

Khana waited until the glass was almost to her lips before grabbing Chanido’s wrist. She flipped him over her shoulder, knocking him into Lueti’s spear. The metal shrieked against his armor. Khana inhaled, taking advantage of the chaos to steal as much of Chanido’s aji as she could.

Arrows sprang from bows. Bodies hit the ground. She could hear Neta fighting two others, and Itehua snapped, “Xopil, help her!”

Chanido inhaled, taking some of his life force back as he grappled with Khana. Her tied hands made it difficult for her to grab him, so instead she pulled the knife out of her boot and went for the visor in his helmet.

He grabbed her arms before she could stab him, keeping the blade an inch from his eye. They each continued to try to absorb the others’ aji, magic swirling from one to the other. Khana readjusted her grip on the knife and pushed down harder, but the blade barely moved. Itehua and Lueti tried to use bear tactics, but their spears couldn’t puncture his armor.

“Yxe, don’t–”

Someone touched Khana’s back, and she pulled in their life force, enough that she was finally able to overpower Chanido and drive the knife into his brain.

Yxe crashed to the ground beside her.

Khana froze. She glowed with extra aji, and it wasn’t just Chanido’s. Yxe must have… did she…?

Lueti rolled him over, ripped off her helmet, and put her ear to his chest. She sighed in relief. “He’s alive.”

Khana put her hand on Yxe and returned all the aji. He coughed. “Oh, that made me dizzy.”

“What were you thinking ?” she demanded.

“You needed the help, and you absorb faster with touch than breath.”

They helped Yxe sit upright, Itehua and Lueti muttering about him being an idiot. Sava quickly joined them, with his previously hidden unit of archers coming out of the rocks, and Khana checked on the other fight. All eight bodyguards were dead, peppered with arrows and spears. Neta and the archers stripped them of their armor while Xopil cautiously approached the behemoth.

Khana hissed. “Xopil, be careful…”

“I am,” he soothed, reaching a hand out for the creature to sniff. This close, Khana could see thin scars on its face and neck, pink and white skin cutting through the shaggy dark fur. “What do you eat, hm? I imagine it’s meat. Did they feed you before bringing you out here? Carrying so many big humans all this way, you deserve a treat, don’t you?”

The behemoth sniffed his hand, then licked it with a tongue big enough to be a baby blanket.

Athicha gaped, turning to the others for an explanation. Itehua shrugged helplessly.

Neta huffed down at the bodies. “Well… it’d be a shame to waste them.”

“Right,” Neta said, looking at the nine suits of metal armor. Eight were green, and one was Chanido’s silver. They’d cleaned up the blood as best they could, hoping that any spots they missed were hidden by the night. “Seems we’re all going to be able to go.”

Itehua glanced at the behemoth. “I’m not sure we can fly on that thing.”

“Think you can control it, darling?” Lueti asked.

Xopil interrupted his cooing to beam. “He’s almost as sweet as my goats! It’ll be fine.”

The behemoth snatched the last Reguallian body and chomped, breaking bones with a single bite and swallowing.

Lueti paled. “All right then…”

Athicha held up their hands, backing away.

“So, the real question is, who passes as Prince Chanido?” Neta mused.

“As soon as someone asks them to remove their helmet…” Sava pointed out.

“We’ll just have to risk it.” She scooped up one of the bodyguards’ green helmets. “Chanido’s helmet is the only one that covers the face, and you and Athicha are the only ones who can’t pass as a full-blood Reguallian.”

“You are technically a prince, Sava,” Khana teased.

He grimaced. Athicha snorted a silent laugh.

Everyone got busy. While they worked, Khana noticed a familiar bit of cloth wrapped around Neta’s wrist. It was the ribbon she’d given the serji for the festival, the nine little frogs hopping over the red wool.

Now that she was looking, she noticed they were all wearing them: Itehua and Yxe wore theirs like a necklace while Xopil had his tied behind his shield and Sava had his braided in his hair.

Lueti noticed her gaping and lifted her helmet, enough that Khana could see the pale blue ribbon braided there. “Presents given during the Festival of Garmiva are good luck charms.”

“Really?”

“Probably. We’re also wearing Yxe’s socks, and they brought Itehua’s knives, but I couldn’t fit the teapot in my armor.”

Khana giggled.

By the time all was said and done, the Poison Dart Frogs looked very convincingly like imperial soldiers. Sava was almost unrecognizable in Prince Chanido’s armor, even with the helmet at his feet. Khana bit her lip. She wished they could at least send Xopil back to town – he had a family. Or maybe Yxe, being so young. Or Neta and Athicha. They all had lives to live.

Athicha wrapped bows and quivers in blankets so they could better smuggle them. The remaining archers took all the Poison Darts’ possessions. Neta carefully folded her snow leopard cloak and glared at the archer who came to take it. “If I find a thread out of place on this, I’ll become your worst nightmare. You hear?”

“Yes, serji,” he said, carefully taking the cloak like it would explode.

It took some work getting on the behemoth. Xopil mounted first, muttering soothing words to the surprisingly docile creature. The rest followed, some better at hiding their unease than others, before helping Khana and Sava climb up. The saddle had straps that could clip to a person’s belt in case they fell. They all strapped in.

“How do we get this thing flying?” Itehua asked.

Xopil tsked. “Well, when they attacked the town, the riders would…” He gathered up the reins and snapped them with an, “Up!”

The behemoth walked in a circle, jostling the riders. Then, with a mighty flap of its wings, it launched itself into the air, leaving the remaining archers and the town of Pahuuda a speck in the distance.