The world was too quiet.

  Part of her had thought that since her hearing disappeared while she was asleep, it would return under the same conditions. She’d go to sleep, and in the morning everything would be back to normal.

  Mia wasn’t that lucky.

  She knew she had very little luck to begin with. At least she wasn’t dead. Her throat wasn’t slit for attacking Senric. He’d survived in Cinderwild, which meant he wasn’t as harmless as he appeared. At the very least, he didn’t always have a guard like Mox.

  Where was Dan?

  Did he bring her back to camp?

  She didn’t remember how she got back. Her last memory was Senric’s pitying gaze.

  Mia would have killed him. She wanted to. At that moment, if the blade had sunk into his neck, it wouldn’t have bothered her. Or maybe it would? It was hard to say since it hadn’t happened.

  She also realised he’d goaded her on purpose.

  Are you useful?

  All this interest would disappear if her ledger weren’t useful. The thought of that was worse than the decision she had to make. Mia didn’t want to face the implications.

  Mia sat up.

  Mia noticed.

  Mia’s fingers twitched, but her left arm hung limp at her side, a dead weight.

  She looked down to where her left arm hung, disconnected from the rest of her. She flexed her wrist, willing it to move, but nothing answered. The numbness had spread from her fingertips to her shoulder, a creeping cold that made her skin prickle. She stared at her hand, the one that had held the knife, the one that had killed.

  No. The one that failed. That continued to fail.

  She clenched her right fist, nails biting into her palm. The pain was sharp, real. It grounded her.

  It would work. She just needed to try again. Maybe there was a specific animal she needed to kill.

  Mia needed to see Senric. She shifted, and her right hand touched something cold. On her bed was the knife, its silver blade glowing. ‘Hold Me.’ A note rested on the hilt. Mia examined the note, feeling confused.

  She shook her head, grabbed the knife, and rushed out of the tent.

  She stepped out of her tent into chaos.

  The camp was chaotic.

  People ran, tripping, trampling.

  It was quiet.

  Mia staggered back.

  It was dusk, and monsters had. She saw them slipping through the undergrowth like shadows, teeth bared and glowing in the fading light. She’d turned just in time to see the glint of eyes in the dark, the flash of claws.

  Nessa had grabbed her, yanking her out of the way. “Move!”

  Mia watched Nessa’s mouth. Willed herself to hear and understand, but there was nothing.

  Nessa dragged her along, but Mia was dead weight, shock causing her limbs to stiffen.

  She didn’t move fast enough. Her left arm dragged, useless. She stumbled, caught herself against a tree, and turned just as a monster lunged. Its maw was a black pit, rows of needle teeth glistening with saliva. She raised her right hand, the knife Senric had given her still clutched in her fingers.

  She didn’t remember swinging.

  She didn’t remember the impact.

  But the monster fell, its body twitching, black pooling beneath it. Nessa was beside her, a sword in hand, her face streaked with dirt and blood. “Mia, we have to go!”

  Mia looked down at the knife. The blade was slick, dark. Her hand trembled.

  You killed it.

  The thought was a knife of its own, twisting in her gut.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  There was no sound.

  Nessa grabbed her good arm. Tugging.

  It didn’t work.

  It didn’t fucking work.

  Her world was still, silent as the grave. Her arm hung at her side, present but absent…a ghost limb, mocking her.

  Cinderwild has a way of providing the opportunities a person needs for growth.

  Senric knew what was going to happen.

  She let Nessa pull her along, her feet moving on instinct. The camp was a storm of fire and steel, the air thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood. People ran, fought, died. A man went down, his throat torn open. A woman screamed, her arm ripped from its socket. A child scratched the beast’s eyes as its teeth clamped on her shoulder.

  Mia was grateful she couldn’t hear.

  The monsters were everywhere, with claws and hunger. Those with a meal in their mouths didn’t continue to chase.

  Mia’s breath came in ragged gasps. Her left arm was a phantom. It bounced against her side as she moved. Flopped against her side, reminding her what was at stake. She could still feel the rabbit’s fur, the way its body had jerked as the blade sank in.

  She lunged, jumping onto the back of a wolf-like creature. Her blade sank into its neck. It jerked, it bucked, tossing her from its back as it crashed to the floor.

  Mia waited.

  Nessa was grabbing at her, pushing.

  She stared at the unmoving body.

  You killed it. You killed them.

  Three lives. Three sacrifices, but they weren’t enough to earn her back her hearing. To stop her next punishment.

  Nessa dragged her behind a supply wagon, pressing her against the wood.

  Mia slid to the ground, her back against the wagon, the knife still in her hand. She looked at it, turning it over. The blade caught the firelight, a thin line of red.

  Five to start.

  The words echoed in her skull.

  She could end it. Right here. One quick motion, a slice across her own throat. It wouldn’t even hurt. No more Cinderwild. No more ledgers, no more debts, no more lives to take. Just silence.

  Her fingers tightened around the hilt.

  It was the decent thing to do, a natural conclusion to a life that should have ended in the rough seas between continents.

  Nessa grabbed her arm, nail digging into flesh. Her hand patted, whacked, demanded attention.

  Mia’s head snapped up. She turned to see a man, a top Nessa. One hand around her throat, the other trying to remove the sword from her hand. Her little legs stuck out, pumping and kicking. Her face was blotchy and red.

  Nessa was fighting, a twig-like arm pressed against his shin, scratching, pushing.

  Mia pushed herself up, her left arm swinging uselessly.

  The knife was heavy in her right hand.

  Nessa was on the ground, a man pinning her down, its jaws snapping inches from her face. He was wilder than the beasts tearing through camp.

  Mia didn’t think.

  She didn’t hesitate.

  She plunged the knife into its side.

  The man shrieked, thrashing. She saw it. The way his head tilted back, his mouth opened.

  Nessa rolled free, gasping.

  Mia yanked the blade out and stabbed again, and again, until the thing stopped moving.

  Silence.

  Nessa stared at her, eyes wide. “Mia…”

  Mia looked at her hands. They were red. The knife was red. The ground was red.

  She could hear.

  A book was in her hand.

  Opened to the first page.

  No. There was only a single page.

  One.

  Initiataling.

  Familiar writing.

  Then it vanished, its weight gone as if she’d imagined the whole thing.

  Nessa reached for her. “Mia, we have to go. The camp—”

  There were soldiers now, sweeping through the monster. She knew some of these faces; she recognized the crest.

  First Division.

  The emptying inner camp. For days, she’d sensed the wrongness. For days, she’d ignored it, pushing it aside as not her concern.

  Mia looked up. The camp was burning. The monsters were retreating, dragging the dead with them. The survivors were gathering.

  The soldiers weren’t chasing.

  There were shouts and screams. Men cursing. Women on the floor, slapping the ground and crying. Children wandering around aimlessly.

  Mia’s left arm hung at her side, a reminder.

  She looked at the knife.

  Five to start.

  One. One for her hearing.

  The next for her arm.

  Three more before she could access her ledger.

  Mia saw them then.

  Bright.

  Kerrik.

  Amy.

  Molly.

  They didn’t see her. They were walking through, laughing, on their way to a battlefield. They didn’t look left or right and disappeared into the commander's tent. Today was a workday. They needed her on a battlefield.

  They shouldn’t be here. Their presence was a reminder, deliberate pressure.

  Or she could give up. Let it end at one life.

  Mia looked at the dead man, his blood staining the ground beneath him.

  Mia grabbed Nessa. The little girl, braver than even Mia looked up, her eyes red, tears flowing down her face.

  “Are you injured?” Mia asked.

  Nessa held up her arm where blood dripped from her fingers. “It’s not too bad. Just a scratch.”

  Mia ran, dragging Nessa with her. They had to get to the tent. They had to go to work. They couldn’t be in camp.

  There was no barrier.

  They’d be coming.

  More beast.

  The worms.

  Worse things.