Chapter 12
I run through the dense, dark forest. I do not know how long this murderous run has lasted, nor what distance I must still cover for us to be safe. But one thing I know for certain. We are free.
I simply cannot believe it!
I rotted for so many years in that disgusting, blood-eaten place that now every branch and every shadow seems magical to me.
Monstrous exhaustion devours my body. If only I could, I would collapse to the ground right here and now. But I am not alone. On my back, I carry a heavily panting Malvira. She should have recovered a long time ago, but instead, she grows weaker with my every step.
Suddenly, violent convulsions shake her, and she slumps limply against my shoulders. I slow down, seeking shelter. A place where the pursuit would not spot us. Before me rises a wall of tightly woven trunks and roots.
This must suffice.
I step closer and try to carefully slide Malvira onto the undergrowth.
The movement of my arm pierces me with a sudden, paralyzing pain.
Wait... an arrow?!
As soon as it dawns on me what this means, my heart stops in my chest, and all the air escapes my lungs.
Malvira!
I set her down as gently as I possibly can. Two arrow shafts protrude from her back. Her breathing is shallow, wheezing, and a thick stream of blood trickles from her mouth. Her face is pale blue and completely apathetic. I frantically check her wounds. The gashes from the whipping have not closed at all; a black, foul-smelling ooze seeps from them.
I do not understand any of this. Were the leather straps poisoned?
Her body becomes more limp with every passing second.
This makes no sense! I took those blows before she did, after all!
Overpowering helplessness washes over me. Suddenly, she opens her eyes, choking on her blood.
"Malvira!"
* * *
I know I am going to die. I've known it from the very beginning, from the moment the slave hunters caught me. That was the moment I realized my time was running out.
I know that as soon as my illusion magic fades, and humans see my true face—the face of a demon—I will draw my last breath. I desperately tried everything to escape. Unfortunately, one of the main arena overseers became my master, and he's notorious for sickly guarding his "toys." A few days later, I saw the true face of the arena when one man, against all odds, survived the slaughter and emerged victorious. Maybe I could use him to escape?
Such a thought crossed my mind. Now I know how terribly wrong I was about him.
He came for me himself. I was terrified of him. I treated him like a wild beast. Yet he came. He freed me and risked his own life so nothing would happen to me. Unfortunately, arrows found me during the escape.
Actually, I'm lucky to be dying far from the arena. Besides him, no one will learn my secret.
And him? Completely detached from reality. As if he had spent his entire life in a cage. Or maybe he did? I won't ever find out. I leave him with a summons for my people. I know they will certainly find him.
* * *
Malvira looks at me with a glassy, empty gaze. She tries to say something, but blood fills her mouth.
The arrowhead must have pierced her lung!
"Do not move! Focus on regenerating! Quickly!"
But she does not react. As if she did not hear me at all. She reaches out a trembling hand, touches her own lips, and traces two strange symbols on my chest. As soon as she finishes, the marks flare with crimson, as if burning themselves into my skin, and then vanish without a trace.
I stare at her in astonishment, losing my voice.
Her previously pale skin takes on the color of deep red. Intricate tattoos bloom on her body. They look like runes. Small, sharp horns sprout on her temples. She stops breathing. She is dead.