Bird of a Cage [BoW 4]

Chapter 10

They'd stopped. Something was off. The caravan didn't stop at this time of night. It was too late. They rested the horses during the day when it was easy to see if anyone was following. There was no light shining outside, no murmurs in the wind, just the sensation of wrongness to the stillness.

He should keep his eyes open. It was hard. The hardness of the wood he'd been lying for the trip made his bones ache. His heart twisted as a whisper of Feno telling him to rest washed through him. He was safe, wasn't he? He was guarded. He could sleep. He could never sleep, someone was about to get rid of him. Hands drifted over his back, hints of comfort rising up in his memories at something longed not to be on the hard word.

Someone entered the caravan. Thin and average height. The darkness hid their face but there was something familiar. A smell? A hint of something Taidra knew. A hand landed on his legs, shaking him before the man moved close. "Tai, wake up. We have to move you now." He knew this person. The voice was soft and gentle, a friend trying to wake him up.

The weight around his angles didn't let up. Sleep refused to let go of his mind and his implant didn't spin into gear. Everything was slow and sluggish. He curled his hand around his dagger under his pillow. He knew a lot of people. That wasn't enough to ensure he was safe. He wasn't safe now. Not without Feno with him. The hands tugged at him again, a grunt of complaint escaping the man as Taidra continued to remain uncooperative.

"Taidra!"

"He's out of it," a new voice chuckled. Deep, dusky voice, no one Taidra had met before but there was a friendly tint to the words. This was someone who made friends as easy as breathing or liked to charm people. If Taidra was more awake, he'd be able to tell more. "Get that blanket tugged around him tight. I'll use it to scoop him up."

There was a huffing sound and the blanket around him shifted. "He's not as out of it as you'd think, are you, Taidra?" the familiar voice said, pushing a hand under the pillow. It curled around his and the dagger before pulling it loose. Taidra let him. He also groaned and pushed at the man with the hand that had held the blade. He wanted to sleep. He was so tired. Whoever had disarmed him was so familiar. His instincts promised the man was safe. He was young and carried with him the naivety of someone spared the worst of the war while suffering from it nonetheless.

"Give me my knife back," Taidra's jaw cracked as he yawned.

"When you're awake," the voice promised, his heat reassuring as a hand rubbed his shoulder. "Can you sit up, Tai?"

"I am awake."

"You sure?"

Taidra cracked open an eye and tried to see the face masked by shadows. His hair was light and fluffy. He was wearing overalls and had a necklace hanging from his neck. It glinted with metal manipulated into the shape of an owl. Taidra knew it more than saw it. He knew that there was a scar that stretched from the bump on the man's left wrist up until the man's elbow from a nasty glass cut in the labs. The name of the man was beyond the thick fog drifting in his mind. He didn't want to leave the fog. Everything was safe hidden and obscured. He pulled it around him like a blanket and sunk back into it.