I am jostled awake, my head lolling about in Callum’s lap. The sky is an orange and pink shimmer; I know it’s almost the evening and I’ve be out for longer than I’d want.
“Kerra,” Callum whispers. He leans in low, but his eyes are watching elsewhere.
“Callum,” I moan, holding my head. “What happened?”
He helps me up and I realise we are inside a wagon barred lie caged rats. Storm soldiers march at the wagon’s side.
“You blacked out,” Callum explains, but I could guess that myself. “Arry threw us in here. Not sure where he’s taking us.”
“Dammit,” I groan. The moving wagon is making my vision blur so I lie back down.
“There’s something else,” Callum mumbles.
I sit back up, eyes bulging. “He too the metal,” I realise.
Callum’s nod confirms my thought.
“I tried to stop him, but there was nothing I could do.”
I finally see Callum in the light, he has a bruise over his right eye and a line of dried blood on his neck.
“I’m sorry I lost it,” I say.
“Don’t worry about it. You were pretty amazing though. You took out over half of Arry’s men.”
I glance around at the few remaining soldiers, most with scarps and bruises.
“Have a nice sleep,” chirps Arry as he walks along side.
I remain silent. I still feel the drain of using my powers like I’ve run a day without rest.
“You know,” he continues, not waiting for me to answer. “I thought all the Water Mages were killed. How’d you survive?”
“What do you know about the Water Mages?” I growl.
“I know a lot, more than you apparently.” He eyes me up and down. “How old must you have been? Six? Seven?”
I blink like he’d just slapped me in the face. Images of me running through the snow as a child flash through my mind. How could he know?
“Can’t remember? You’d be more angry, I think.”
I grab the bars of my cage. “What are you talking about? What do you know about it?”
He only smirks with a snickering laugh.
“Oh no, this is too fun. Oh and thanks for metal. I must say it was a pleasant surprise to find you had two pieces. Not sure how you go them both, but saves me a lot of finding.”
He flips the metal in his fingers to taunt me.
“Why would you want them?” I ask. “It’s just twisted metal. It’s worth nothing.”
“Nothing?” Arry laughs with fake humour. “These pieces of metal are worth more than my life! We will get them all and when we go…oh, you’ll love what happens then.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about. Why would the Storms want the metal? What possible reason…? And then I am struck with a thought, a thought that fits with everything the Storms are and want. They want power over people and what gives them power…
“A weapon…” it leaves my lips before I can take it back.
“Catching on?” He raises an eyebrow. “Too bad you’re about to die.”
Continued on Day 48: Pit