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Chapter 222 - Twenty eight

Trudging through the knee-high snow proves a challenge in its own right. Going up through the trees is out of the question since the branches are heavy with snow and slick with frozen dew from the days when the sun decides to show its sharp teeth.

The little squabble I had in the morning with Ava has managed to erase anything good that I've experienced throughout the week I've spent with Enid, Laira and David. It was like we were eighteen again, when I knew nothing of the dangers lurking around the corner, when my only concern was whether Mason loved me or not.

The sound of snow crunching in the thicket of trees, makes me slow down my steps but I don't stop, nor look around. Whoever it is, is either out for a stroll or just waiting for the right moment to strike. As it happens I'm on the outskirts of Morston, right where the houses are dotted here and there, and then completely disappear.

I'm half frozen, hungry and pissed as hell. Whoever is coming at me better be prepared, because I have a lot of demons that I need to exorcise.

My prayer is answered when I see someone dressed very similarly to Eagan and Lissete charging towards me from the corner of my eye. I haven't seen a V'asay in months, and I've been in Morston for almost a week. I'm surprised it has taken them this long to come after me.

The man lunges towards me, in what I suspect is intended to be a surprise attack but his stealth is lacking, to say the least. My bag is not overly heavy but it still contains plenty of canned food, so when I hit him in the head with it, he sways on his feet, and blood gushes out of his mouth, and nose. He spits a tooth and gives me a bloody grin.

" Micah has put a bounty on your head. The man who brings you to him will receive whatever his heart desires," Great. I went from, bad to worse, to absolutely disastrous.

" And what does your heart desire?" We are circling each other, measuring each other, like wild animals in a stand for dominance.

" I want something only he can give me," He spits in the snow, sneers at me, and then attacks.

His kick lifts a cloud of snow, but I know there is no weight behind it, I grab his foot and twist it until he cries out in pain. I let go only when I hear the telltale crunch of broken bone.

Groaning, and cursing he stands up on his good foot, and I'm starting to think that the V'asay aren't as terrifying as the stories tell. Or these are just plain dumb, coming after me empty-handed. At least Lissete had the presence of spirit to come after me armed to the teeth. Not that, that would improve their chances.

Even with a broken leg, the man doesn't give up, wobbles on his feet and tries his luck again by having another swing at me.

This is a joke and a waste of my time, but I do owe him some thanks for warming me up.

I put everything I have in the next high kick, his head whips so hard that it is almost facing the other way, and he falls with a muffled thud in the fluffy, bloodied snow. I don't need to check if he is dead. I know his dead when his head almost flew off his shoulders.

One down and only God knows how many more are left out there looking to have their pound of flesh. I owe T'aethi a world of gratitude for all that she has taught me because I don't think I would've been able to stand on my own without her lessons.

When I lean to pick up my bag out of the snow, I catch sight of a few more shadows among the trees, and I know that I'm in for a proper fight.

My eyes scour the tree line as more and more of them emerge through the trees, after twenty I stop counting because it is time to pull out the ultimate trump card.

Exercising control is a great energy consumer. That, and the countless nights I don't sleep, for various reasons. Actually just one.

It seems that Micah has amassed an army of assassins, so perhaps the bounty on my head is only an incentive to get them to try harder. As far as I'm concerned every V'asay in the seventeen Districts is after my head regardless of whether they serve Micah or not.

I come to realise that the man I've just fought was nothing more than a sacrificial lamb, meant to test my abilities. One might think that in battle number is everything, but is not. Strategie is, and it is exactly what I've been preparing for, for over a year. Always prepare for the worst when you lead a battle for your survival.

And I've done just that.

This will be a blood bath that no amount of snow, dirt or the Solomonari can sweep under the rug.

With a deep breath, I surrender control, and I feel it flowing through me, Mason must feel it too because it's not just a trickle, it's a wave so strong that makes me sway on my feet. It is strong enough that I can feel it welling up inside me seeking an outlet. At first is faint but slowly my veins begin to glow, and I can see it flowing through me, something I've never been able to but I've never allowed myself to go that far.

None dare to make a move. They all watch every move I make, every time a muscle twitches in my hand. They are alert, so they get points for that; now theress only the matter of who will strike first, me or them.

I don't have to wait very long because one of them breaks from the ranks and charges towards me at an insane speed. And now I understand why they are so feared. What I've encountered so far were nothing more than the runts in the litter. These ones have a pedigree.