The journey was a bloody haze. Corabelle only became vaguely aware the blindfold had been forgotten as she saw the exterior of the cave entrance for the first time.

  Though there was no time to revel in it as they swept their way down the slick tunnels.

  Confusion and venom was all she managed to gather from the accusation the guards began to hurl in her direction as a blade forced her from the others.

  “It wasn’t her,” River’s silken voice was the only thing understandable in the mass of yelling, despite its weakness. “It was wolves. She killed them.”

  “She’s telling the truth!” Ev’s voice cut like thunder through yet more yelling. “Now let us in!”

  After what could have been seconds or hours, they were let in.

  People scattered from nearby at the sight of them, while mages took their place, whisking the injured down the tunnels into large makeshift laboratories.

  Corabelle wasn’t entirely sure how she managed to be among the cared for but she found herself being accosted by a small swarm of plainly dressed mages wielding bandages and herbs, but finally among the madness one stopped in front of her, placing her hands firmly, but carefully upon Corabelle’s uninjured shoulder.

  The touch sharpened her mind just enough to realize she was being questioned.

  “Cora, that’s your name right?” The mage questioned sharply.

  Corabelle nodded.

  “Cora, we don’t know how to care for your injuries,” Her expression was stern, annoyed, at what Corabelle couldn’t tell. “Tell us how to fix you.”

  If her Runebinds sapped the last of her energy, and she lost consciousness with the Dewsilver in her blood, would he be able to recover properly enough to awaken again? Or would that too be fragmented? What she knew worked, what she needed, was Spark energy.

  “I…” Corabelle struggled to form simple enough words to convey her thoughts clearly. “I haven’t hunted. I’m out of energy, so I can’t heal.”

  “You need food then?” Her voice sharpened with each question.

  Corabelle shook her head, “No, I need… prey. Live prey.”

  The Mage inhaled, her hand pulling sharply.

  “Not human,” Corabelle tried to explain. “Just a creature with a decent spark.”

  “What are you saying?” The mage demanded. “Nothing less than Human has a Spark.”

  Corabelle felt her eyes grow heavy.

  She didn’t have time to explain this, “A rat. A live rat will work.“

  “She’s losing her mind,” She heard one of the others mutter.

  “Shut up!” the mage barked. “Will mice work the same?” She asked Corabelle.

  She nodded.

  “Bring the mice from the other lab!”

  “But--” the other protested.

  “Now!” The mage ordered.

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  The other two scurried out the room with muttered complaints.

  The female mage began examining her wounds, firing questions at her that Corabelle barely caught.

  “They were normal wolves,” Corabelle managed to answer from pieces of questions. “But they were sick.”

  The mage stood straight with an alarm, “What sickness? Do you know?”

  Corabelle shook her head, “Not for certain but they were foaming at the mouth and the third wouldn’t retreat even after I killed the first and severely wounded the second."

  The mage’s eyes widened, “White or yellow foam?” She demanded.

  “Yellow, and thick.”

  The other two mages returned with large glass jugs containing panicking rodents.

  “Go tell the others the wolves were Lycostoxic!

  The mages frantically set the bottled mice on the nearby table and ran from the room in a blur with considerably more urgency than they had for the mice.

  “They developed… venom… from disease,” the mage tried to explain as she snatched one of the containers from the table, though Corabelle's ears couldn’t seem to catch the words. “...Antivenom. Will it….”

  Her words became meaningless, slipping into a mushy haze of sound and image.

  Corabelle barely felt the glass on her fingertips before the jug she was handed slipped, crashing to the floor and filling the room with ricocheting grey spheres.

  Too late.

  The thought barely formed as her Runebinds drained the last of her energy.

  ------

  I’m awake.

  The concept seemed foreign and impossible; A lie you wish could be believed and yet so outrageous you almost want to laugh at the cruelty.

  But then came the sound. A soft hum, far too quiet for Fae or Demon, but the unmistakable resonance of a Spark.

  The smell came next, damp and air light, old blood. And something else, almost overbearingly metallic.

  Sensation hit the already over accosted senses in the form of a dull burn, coating his chest, barely an annoyance if not for the assault on the other senses.

  Finally came light.

  Zaramir’s eyes shot open, sitting bolt upright, as the lie became reality with the convergence of too many proper sensations.

  After his eyes adjusted he realized he was no longer in the small chamber he’d been tormented in. Now he was somewhere new.

  But figuring out where would have to take a lower priority.

  Weapons were pointed shakily in his direction, their wielders bodies so taught they looked like they may shatter.

  Among the weapon holders was a mage, he too carried a weapon, but it was sheathed in favor of electricity crackling at his fingertips.

  It was so quiet here. There couldn’t be Demons or Fae nearby or he’d hear.

  Surely they wouldn’t have human slaves watching him alone? Especially not with such useless weapons.

  And a mage was among them.

  The Fae didn’t keep slaves who had the means of fighting back.

  But what band of humans would be stupid, or even capable enough, to try to take him as their own prisoner?

  “If you mean us no harm, don’t move.” The mage spoke firmly.

  If I mean them no harm?

  Why would humans bring him here? If they were confident in their abilities to subdue him, they wouldn’t be so scared. They surely would have had to fight worse to commandeer him, their trepidation makes no sense. So how did he end up in this place?

  “Why did you bring me here?” He tested his voice carefully, not daring to so much as shift his weight.

  “We didn’t,” the mage answered shortly.

  He should have suspected as much. It would take far more than these three to pull off a theft from right under the Fae.

  “Your commander, or ruler then, why did they bring me here?” he amended.

  The sparks dwindled from his fingertips, and his posture loosened ever so slightly, “Finding you was an accident from what I've gathered. One hell of a coincidence if you ask me. But the other Demon wouldn’t come back here if you didn’t come too and she’s been surprisingly quite helpful so our commander brought you back with her.”

  He spoke as though the Faedemon was of service to them. But if another Faedemon was here, these people wouldn’t be free.

  “You have other Faedemons here?” He questioned, trying to keep the disbelief from his voice.

  “Just one,” the mage replied simply. “Your friend, she says. She told us her name is Cora.”