YA Scavenger Hunt Spring 2020

Here’s an exclusive deleted scene from Umbertouched…

The moment they tie my arms behind my back, my mind starts fighting off old memories: stumbling through the streets of Khaygal outpost, the coppery taste of blood in my mouth, shackles closing around my wrists. It’s only by sheer force of will that I don’t start hyperventilating. 

Concentrate. This isn’t Khaygal. These soldiers aren’t the ones who captured you. 

Do they have Zivah too? Given how agitated Scrawny was, it doesn’t look good, and it looks worse and worse as they lead me out of the village and across the grassland toward the river where where Zivah was waiting. Now the only thing I can hope for is that they haven’t hurt her. 

Finally, I see her in the distance. Her arms are tied like mine. She stands rigid, her jaw set, like a captive queen. The soldier guarding her has a bruise on his head, and stands as if one of his legs pains him. Another man lies on the ground. Not bad, but it didn’t seem to be enough. Zivah looks up at our approach. 

“Did they hurt you?” I ask.

“No.” But her eyes drift down to a bloodied spot on the ground. At first I don’t know what I’m seeing, and then I recognize the remains of Diadem, the snake she carries on her arm. Bastards. I have no big love for that snake, but it’s been like an extension to Zivah’s arm these past months.

“Quiet,” growls one of the soldiers. He’s an umbertouched man with crooked eyebrows, and he seems to be the leader. I think I recognize him from Sehmar City. It’s on my tongue to let him know just what I think of him, but I restrain myself.

Once Crook Brow sees that I’ll behave, he turns to the others. “The general wants them alive. We’ll take them to Lanvak and send word to the capital. See if General Arxa wants them taken back or if he just wants them held until they marched north.” Another soldier takes our stallion’s lead rope, then Crook Brow nods his head in our direction. “Lead the way.”

His arrogance gets on my nerves, but I bite my tongue. If I remember right, it’s five hours to Lanvak. Once we get there, it’ll be a lot harder to break free. Untie my hands and give me a weapon, and we might have a chance against these soldiers, but I don’t think the ropes are about to magically drop from my wrists.

One good thing at least — the crows are following us. They’re circling above and not being very discreet. But these fellows don’t seem to be in the habit of looking up. 

We march two more hours without any real opening, then Crook Brow calls a stop to water the horses. One of the Amparans takes the cakes they confiscated from me and passes it to his fellow soldiers.

I’m about to make some other rude comment when I notice Zivah trying to catch my eye. She turns ever so slightly so I can see her hands. She’d managed to loosen her ropes. 

My heart pounds in anticipation. I don’t know how she managed to do it, but we need to act quick. These men will likely check our bindings before continuing on our way, and then we’ll be back to where we started.

“You’re from Sehmar city aren’t you? I remember you from the practice fields,” I say to Crook Brow.

He gives me a warning glance.

“They have you chasing fugitives instead of going to battle? Probably better that way with your sword handling skills. Better to send you running around the Empire where you can’t kill your comrades with your incompetence.”

He takes three quick strides towards me and backhands me across the face. I have to say, even a bad soldier’s punch can hurt when you have no way to block him. Well, there will be time for complaining later. I grunt, lower my shoulder, and ram into him. Yells sound all around as we tumble to the ground. I nearly break my nose on his ribs, and I remember why I prefer not to grapple with my hands tied. I grind my shoulder into his stomach, but he throws me off

“Preener, Slicewing, Scrawny, attack!” I yell. “Zivah, run!”

 I catch a glimpse of her in a face-off with another soldier. He can’t touch her without risking the plague, but he’s apparently not enough of a coward to just let her go. 

Slice-wing dives toward Crook Brow, who yells and throws up his hands. I roll onto my side, straining at the ropes and trying to get my feet under me, when a third soldier comes and raises his sword like an ax. I roll out of the way, and Preener dives at that man’s face. 

A thundering of hooves. A flash of mane. I barely register that our stallion has gotten loose and has stormed into our midst, when Crook Brow climbs on top of me and starts hitting me. Lights explode in front of my eyes. I bridge my hips, trying to throw him off, but he’s too heavy. There’s a thud. Crook Brow falls over, and I see Zivah standing over me, breathing heavily. Did she kick him in the head?

I grit my teeth, get my feet under me, and look around frantically for more enemies. And that’s when I realize there aren’t any left. The stallion stands to the side, breathing heavily, his flanks heaving. And all around us are the trampled bodies of our captors. I look at Zivah, and she looks back at me. It looks as if, once again, we are free.