Page 80 of Joy Guardian
“Sakin? Joy Guardian?” Malis climbed up the dune to us. “Is there a fight here? Whom do I stab?”
She brandished my second dagger over her head. Her eyes reflected the fire. The hair knot on top of her head was in a wild disarray, resembling a hedgehog with all its needles up.
“The fight is over.” I pushed to my feet, rising over the dead body.
“Sakin? Are you alright?” She checked on the wounded men.
Sitting in the sand, he moved his shoulder.
“I’ll live. Unlike that guy.” He pointed at Watrat’s dead body that was starting to deteriorate already. Black smoke seeped from both his wounds.
Malis wrinkled her nose in disgust, then bent over quickly, snatching Watrat’s sword from the sand.
“Can I keep this?” she asked, inspecting the weapon.
“Yes,” I said. “Take whatever you want from him and down in the camp. I’ll just need my woman. And this.” I took my dagger from her hand.
“Hey!” she protested but not very passionately, distracted by her newly acquired sword.
“These are mine, and I’m keeping them.” I shoved both daggers in their respective sheaths, then turned to Sakin who was now standing on his both feet, swaying slightly. “Stay with Sakin until he’s better, Malis. He was stabbed by that very dagger you wanted to keep.”
Not losing another moment, I headed down to the camp.
Charred bodies littered the ground here. I counted eleven, which would be twelve with Watrat now decomposing up on the dune. It meant all these pleasure traders were now dead. Raimus had knocked down a half-burned tent and was now digging through its contents.
“Hey, Joy Guardian, do you want some of this?” He shook a burlap sack filled with loot.
“Have you found the humans?” I asked, running past him.
“No. Haven’t seen any. Gefred found some horses though.”
Gefred walked into the circle of light from the scattered campfire, leading two horses by their reins.
“Did you see any humans?” I asked him.
“No, but there are some cages under those rags.” He tippedhis chin at the dark mass of rags and boards piled up to the right, away from the camp.
“Cages? Is that how they treated them?” Anger choked my words. I wished Watrat was still alive, so I could kill him all over again. And this time, I wouldn’t be quick.
I ran to the cages and flung the covers off them. Crudely made from sticks and metal, the cages were not wide enough to lay down and not tall enough to stand up. The idea of anyone using these to lock up sentient beings inside made my blood boil.
“They’re empty,” Gefred stated, approaching me with the horses. “They must’ve taken the Joy Vessels elsewhere already. Oh, maybe killed them?”
Blood rushed to my brain. The sound of it running through my veins echoed in my ears, drowning his words.
I was too late.
Ciana was gone.
“Is your woman a human?” Gefred asked suspiciously. “Because you never said that she was.”
“Traders!” Malis screamed, running down to the camp. “They’re sneaking around that way!” She pointed with her sword to the right of the cages.
My anger and despair got a new target. Yanking my daggers from their sheaths, I ran around the cages in search of the traders. Blinded by the urge for vengeance, I slammed into the first one at full speed.
“Ahhhh,” air rushed out of the person’s lungs.
Instead of stabbing, however, my arms instinctively went around the small shape, much smaller than a trader would be.
