A moment later, multiple arms took hold of me and threw me to the ground. A wet cloth covered my face, and then darkness. I think I was drugged.
I take a deep breath and push away my memories. I must focus on the current moment.
My captors pull me forward, leading me down a village street. My head is spinning and I feel like I’m verging on a blackout. But I can’t pass out again, not here and not now. I have to be strong or at least pretend to be strong.
I stop abruptly and take two quick steps back, ripping myself loose from their arms.
“Enough!” I say sternly. “Where are you taking me? To Tartis? Just show me where to go and I’ll follow. I intended to see him anyway.”
They stare at me. My outburst must have taken them by surprise. Black and white paint covers their faces, so they look identical. Both wearing dark hoodies and cargo pants along with heavy boots, typical roamer uniforms. I’m dressed in a similar manner, though my face is clean.
“Shut your mouth, girl,” one ranger barks, reaching for me. I step back.
The other ranger stops him short, “C’mon. Just give her a break.”
They glare at each other, both ready to fight, then the first guy shrugs.
“Whatever.”
“Lead me to Tartis,” I say.
They motion for me to follow, and we proceed along the street. I smirk, very pleased with my actions. At least I’m no longer a helpless, speechless victim.
“Did Tartis order our capture?” I ask.
They ignore me.
“You’ll do anything he orders, right?” I continue spitefully. “You’re just his puppets.”
“Be quiet,” the ranger on my right growls.
“I thought the people in this village loved freedom,” I say, unable to stop. “But you’re no different from the servants. You’re all slaves to Tartis.”
“Shut your hole!” the ranger on my right raises his hand, threatening me.
I give him a challenging look.
“She’s actually right,” the other says. “Tartis has turned everyone into his puppets. This is not what Jingfay intended.”
“What?” the aggressive ranger snorts.
I share in his astonishment.
“Nothing,” the friendly guy mutters.
I glance at him. He’s an inch shorter than me, and his eyes are vivid green. Have we met before?
He catches my gaze and adds quietly, “Many of us admire what you and Kris did.”
“What are you talking about?” I frown. “We didn’t do anything.”
He grins. “Of course not.”
His hand grips my arm again, but his touch is careful and almost gentle this time. He’s not trying to drag me forward so much as to help me walk.
I still don’t trust him. I don’t trust anyone at all.
***
They lead me inside a spacious, well-illuminated cabin and order me to sit on a chair placed in the middle of the room. I plop down willingly, happy to finally rest. Physical exertion doesn’t exhaust me so easily, but emotional strain does.
An arrogant-looking man is reading a book behind a wooden desk in front of me. He’s dressed in a black ranger’s outfit, but wearing no paint on his face. This is the leader of the roamers, Tartis, the very man who once ordered me killed.
The two rangers who brought me here stand on either side of me. I glance at the green-eyed guy, but he looks away.
“Why am I here?” I ask in a hollow voice. It sounds more hopeless and weak than I’d intended.
Tartis gives no reaction, not acknowledging me.
The aggressive ranger slaps my head. “Shut up!”
I almost fall out of the chair, the room spinning in front of my eyes.
“Don’t touch her!” the green-eyed guy exclaims, shoving my aggressor away.
“Back off, loser!” the attacker growls.
They both draw knives and I duck, suppressing an impulse to run for the door. No, it wouldn’t work right now. Although I’m an excellent runner, I wouldn’t make it too far being handcuffed.
“Leave us,” Tartis orders, finally shutting the book and scowling. He seems displeased to have his soldiers fighting over me.
The rangers head outside, silent and obedient. I breathe out. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath.
Slowly, Tartis looks me over and the amount of hatred in his eyes frightens me.
“So, I guess you’d like to know why you’re here,” he states.
“That would be nice,” I answer.
“But I’m certain you already know why.”
I raise my eyebrows in a fake astonishment. I frown, pretending to ponder his words.
“I don’t understand…” I mutter.
“Stop lying!” he yells, hitting the desk with his fist.
I shudder. I wish I could remain completely calm, but my hands begin shaking. I hate myself for showing my fear, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
“How dare you lie to your master?” he asks.
You’re not my master, I think angrily. I’m no longer a servant and don’t have a master. I want to spit in his mean, hateful face, but instead I lower my head.
“I’m sorry,” I say, “but I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong.”
“You don’t understand?” Tartis lets out a short laugh and throws his book at me. It hits my shoulder. I flinch, but manage to maintain a calm expression. “You miserable rat!” he continues. “I was kind enough to let you stay in my village. I spared your life as well as the life of your worthless friend. And after all that you break our number one rule and now dare to lie to me!”
He must know everything, I realize. But I can’t give up now. He’ll order me killed, should I admit what Wreck and I did.
I look straight into his eyes. “I haven’t broken any rules.”
“Two days ago you and Kris went to Central Settlement,” he says matter-of-factly, and my throat tightens. “You freed some
