Kora clenched a fist. “They’re getting closer.”
Ram nodded. “Right, right, let’s go.”
On top of forcing them to loop around, the stream slowed them down in a way Daniel hadn’t taken into account for his hasty decision. Not only did the freezing water make his muscles feel like iron bands, but the stones and divots in the stream bed made the way treacherous. On more than one occasion Daniel nearly lost his footing and pitched himself and Litty face-first into the water.
Kora took advantage of the detour to splash water over her shoulder, washing away some of the caked blood. Daniel imagined the cold would help ease the pain as well.
They rounded a bend where a twisted elm reached out over the water, where Daniel splashed to a halt and raised his hand. The others stopped behind him. For a brief moment, they remained motionless in the water, listening. He had heard something out in the trees—the snap of a branch, the thud of feet on leaves. Whatever was out there had as little interest in stealth as they did, to be heard over the stream’s current.
Ram motioned Daniel to stay back while he bent under one of the thick elm branches and surveyed the stretch of the stream beyond the bend. “Nothing,” he said.
“So you heard it too?” Daniel kept his voice low.
Ram nodded, and Kora maneuvered her way around the elm so that she stood between them. Her nervous eyes never left the banks of the stream.
Another thud, followed by something sliding on the leaves of the forest floor. It was coming from further down the stream where the trees thickened. One way or another, there was more than one party heading towards them—the dogs, more than likely leading Preceptors, from behind; and now this mysterious predator from ahead.
“Should we keep following the water?”
Daniel shook his head. “I wanted to, but I won’t risk running straight into a trap.” Having said that, he clambered up the muddy bank with Litty clinging tightly to him and plunged once more into the cover of the trees. With any luck, their detour through the stream would still be enough to throw the dogs of their trail long enough to regain the distance they had lost.
Once they crested the bank, the terrain headed downhill. They turned north to put the higher peaks of the Untamables at their backs and gradually descended through the wooded foothills. Whereas the forests of the deeper mountains were clear and sparse, the woods here thickened to the point where Daniel couldn’t see ahead more than ten or fifteen yards at any given point. While this put them in danger of being ambushed by whoever—or whatever—was approaching them down by the stream, their choices were limited.
Daniel took the lead and pushed them at a relentless pace—as fast as the difficult terrain allowed—forcing himself to ignore Kora’s labored breathing and Ram’s occasional falling behind. Only when Kora’s foot found a hidden root and she tumbled forward with a cry muffled by a mouthful of leaves did he stop. In the time it took him to help her back to her feet, Ram caught up with them. His cheeks were red and his legs looked like they were about to buckle out from under him, but there was a glint in his eye as he pointed farther down the hill.
“I see sunlight and slashes of green,” he said. “We’re almost out.”
They pressed on. In a minute or two Ram’s statement proved to be true. For the first time since fleeing Galaratheas, they broke free of the forest. Before them sprawled the rolling, golden foothills of the Untamables, barren of trees save for a few clumps of spindly oaks. The hills were pocketed with boulders and small caves, as though the whole northern stretch of mountain had been excavated by giant ants. And though the sight was impressive, what captured Daniel’s attention most was the bridge to Cerdania gleaming white in the sun in its solemn stance over the ravine through which the Weeping River ran.
The mere sight of the bridge nearly made Daniel choke up with tears of relief. This had been their goal since the beginning, and though he had many times lost sight of it under the clouds of all the mistakes he had made, they were within reach of finally attaining freedom.
Daniel took Litty and swung her around so she could see. “Look there. That’s the bridge. We’re almost to our new home.” He knew that they would still have to travel almost a full day and night before reaching civilization in Cerdania, but merely crossing the border would grant them more safety than they had had since the evacuation. No more Akorites, no more Preceptors, and no more running.
Litty’s grumpy frown indicated just how little of his enthusiasm she shared, but he figured she was too hungry to be comforted by much of anything. She hadn’t eaten since they left Galaratheas, and the sleep she had gotten couldn’t have been anything resembling restful or comfortable.
He turned to Ram. “Almost there, my friend.”
Ram gave a weary nod, but Kora stiffened as though poked by a hot iron. “Not yet,” she said. “Listen.”
Though the commotion made by the dogs had come and gone for the past few hours, a new sound now joined the fray back in the woods—a human voice. Though the words shouted were indistinguishable, the harsh tone and deep echoes were unmistakable. It was Maravek.
Kora’s face went white. “I told you,” she said, “I told you he was coming. He’s going to find us, and he’s going to kill us.”
Daniel shot her a look. “Do you mind?” He gestured at Litty with his head.
The sneer returned. “Do you really think he’s going to pick and choose who he does or doesn’t hurt to get what he wants?”
“She’s done nothing.”
“That means nothing to Maravek.” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “You’ve put us all in danger, Daniel. The consequences of what you did won’t just fall on you.”
Daniel’s jaw tensed and he turned away.
Maravek’s voice was getting louder as he spurred his dogs closer to the tree line. It wouldn’t be long before they reached the open foothills, and once that happened, there would be no cover for Daniel and the others to take to.
Ram cleared his throat. “We could…we could fight him.”
“What?”
He shrugged sheepishly. “Wait for him to reach us and take him down before he has a chance to do the same to us. If we use the trees to our advantage—”
“No,” said Daniel. “No, we won’t fight. We can’t. I won’t risk it. Not with Litty.”
“Then why are we wasting time talking?” Kora crossed her arms over her chest and scowled, but her eyes didn’t change.
A single howl rose above the cacophony of barking dogs. Litty whimpered and put her fingers in her ears.
Daniel looked longingly at the bridge in the distance, at the forest behind them, and back at the others. “From the beginning,” he said, “Getting Litty safely back has been the only important thing to me. And now—now we’re so close. We can make it. We will make it. None of you are going to get hurt because of me.”
“Let me carry her for a bit,” said Ram.
Daniel shook his head and managed a wry smile. “Not a chance.” Then he took a deep breath, trying to settle his hammering heart, and stepped out into the open. “Follow me.”
They broke into the open and ran down the slope. Even without the forest to offer them cover, he planned on using the terrain to their advantage. The myriad of rock piles, banks, and openings that dotted the hillside made for a natural way to dart from side to side, minimizing the chances of being spotted by Maravek or anyone else who might still be lurking in the forest.
Litty clung to his neck with such a tight grasp that it became difficult to breathe. Her hair bounced against his face with each step.
Daniel wanted nothing more than to set his eyes on the bridge and not look away until he set foot on the stone walkway, but he dared not avert his gaze from the ground before him, wary of the many loose stones and trenches that threatened to jump out at him.
With each step, however, the bridge drew closer.
“Black!” The roar echoed down like a thunderclap, cutting off all other sound.
&nb
sp; Daniel stopped against his will and looked over his shoulder. Hot stones lined his stomach. His chest tightened like a fist. Maravek stormed out from the trees, barely restraining the team of five savage dogs that pulled on their leashes with all the ferocity of a wolf pack after a meal.
“Keep going,” said Ram as he caught up, breathless.
Kora remained silent. Her lips tightened until the blood drained from them.
Daniel turned to run, but his feet wouldn’t respond. He felt numb and heavy, as though a load of bricks hung from him.
Maravek set the dogs loose. The beasts tore down the hill like a black tornado, their teeth bared, and their snarls as loud as though they were a foot away.
“Daniel, you have to run!”
The dogs closed the distance one swift bound at a time. It wouldn’t take them long. Behind them, Maravek raced to keep up. The sun glinted off the gun in his hand. His teeth bared in a silent snarl—a snarl that Daniel could feel run up and down his spine. The man had become an animal.
Litty stiffened against him. “Danny.”
The sound of her voice shattered the chains wrapped around his legs like a hammer smashing ice. Breath filled his lungs once more, and he sped down the hill with renewed vigor.
“Look to the bridge,” Ram said, “We’re almost there. Keep going.”
His lungs burned. Sweat blurred his vision. His legs felt like the mere force of each step would rip them from their sockets. The only thing that kept him going was the little girl in his arms.
Fifty feet to the bridge.
They rounded a stack of boulders and lost sight of the dogs. Maravek shouted incoherently, and the barking only intensified.
Thirty feet to the bridge.
Ram stumbled and fell, scraping the skin from his knees. Kora half-turned to help, but the dogs bound back into view and she kept on going. He picked himself up, shook his head like an angry horse, and plowed ahead.
Ten feet to the bridge.
The chasm opened up before them, and in its depths, the Weeping River roared.
They reached the base of the bridge.
A figure stepped into view from behind one of the massive pillars guarding the flagstone steps. It was Andrale.
Daniel skidded to a halt.
The Preceptor leveled a gun. “We were beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.”
Daniel put Litty down and stepped in front of her. His chest felt like it would rupture. “Don’t shoot,” he said, raising his hands.
“Oh, I’m not going to,” said the Preceptor, pointing with his chin farther up the hill. “That’s not my part to play. Maravek will be here soon to finish off what he started.”
Daniel’s gut twisted like a rope. Litty latched onto his leg from behind.
Ram stepped in front of them like a wall, his feet set and his shoulders squared. “We’re crossing this bridge,” he said, “And you won’t stop us.”
Andrale sneered. “We both know you’re the weak one of the group,” he said, shifting his gun to point it at him. “What’s your plan?”
Ram didn’t hesitate. He bellowed like a bull and dove forward, driving his shoulder into Andrale’s stomach with more speed than Daniel thought he had in him. The Preceptor stumbled back but kept his footing. His boot connected with Ram’s shoulder, and while he was off balance, Andrale gripped him by the collar and sleeve and hurled him back down the stairs.
Ram landed in the dirt and grass with a thud.
“Ram!” Daniel lurched forward, but before he could make it half a step, Andrale straightened and pointed the gun at Ram.
“Maravek didn’t say anything about killing you,” he said, “So I guess it’s my call to make.” Andrale squeezed the trigger, and as the shot rang out, a figure leapt before him from the side with a cry. Startled, Andrale lowered the gun and broke eye contact. In that moment, Daniel lunged forward and drove his fist into the Preceptor’s jaw. Andrale fell back and hit his head on the pillar.
Daniel dove on him before he could get up, but then realized that the Preceptor was already unconscious. He picked himself up. “Let’s go,” he said over his shoulder. “I don’t know how long he’ll be out. We need to hurry.”
When no answer came from the others, he turned, and the sight he saw tightened the knots in his stomach. Kora and Litty stood off to the side, watching with rounded eyes while Ram knelt over a prone form on the ground.
With an unexpected dread settling in, Daniel stole closer and stood over Ram. His friend cradled a girl in his arms, tears spilling from his eyes. Her dark hair clung to her neck and shoulders, and her emerald eyes blankly searched the sky above. Her mouth parted open but no sound came out.
Blood flowed from a bullet wound in her chest.
“She took it for me,” Ram said, his voice breaking up, “She took the bullet for me. It should have been mine.” He put his hand on her chest, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. “Myra, say something. I’m here for you. I’m going to help you.” Stubborn denial rode his voice.
The girl’s eyes finally found Ram’s, and her mouth curled into a weak smile. Her hand reached up, and he clasped it in his free one. “It’s okay, Ram,” she said, “You would have done the same for me. I know you would have.”
Ram struggled to respond, but his lips trembled and his voice betrayed him. He cried. “I can’t stop the bleeding.” He turned to Daniel with desperate eyes. “Help me!”
Myra reached up with her other hand and cupped his cheek, drawing his attention back to her. “You—you once showed me that there is good left in the world.”
“Don’t talk,” said Ram, “Save your strength. We’re going to make sure you’re okay.”
“No.” Her voice, though weak, commanded silence. “I know I’m dying, and it’s okay. I never wanted to be bitter, or to hate. And—you helped me.” With fading strength, she pulled him closer. “You need to stay strong for your friends.” Her eyes rolled back as a fresh wave of pain racked her body.
Ram pulled her up against him. “Why?” Even as he spoke, he ran his fingers through her hair with trembling tenderness.
Myra choked up a gasp that brought blood to her lips. “You have a strength that could move mountains, Ram.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “But for you, the mountains move already.”
Then she kissed his hand, and her head dropped back, and she died.
Ram bowed over her and didn’t move except for his gently shaking shoulders.
A hand touched Daniel on the leg, and he looked down to find Litty reaching up for him. Though her eyes were red, he knew she couldn’t understand what was happening. He picked her up and held her close. He put a hand on Ram’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Maravek and the dogs would be upon them. “We have to go.”
Ram didn’t respond.
Behind them, on the stairs of the bridge, Andrale stirred like a bear rising from slumber and fumbled around blindly for his gun.
Ram roused from within himself, and in his eyes Daniel saw a raw anger that struck fear even in him. Ram gently—slowly—laid Myra’s body down to rest, and he rose to his feet and started towards the Preceptor. His fingers clenched into powerful fists.
Daniel grabbed him by the arm. “Don’t do it, Ram. He still has the gun.”
Ram ignored him.
On his hands and knees now, Andrale found his weapon and struggled to stand. Blood oozed from a wound behind his ear where he had hit the pillar.
Daniel dug his feet into the ground and tried to physically pull his friend back, but he was no match for Ram’s size or determination. He darted around, still holding Litty, and met him face to face. “She wouldn’t have wanted you to do this,” he said, all but pleading.
The fire in Ram’s eyes dimmed and gave way for the sorrow to return. He slowed, then stopped. His shoulders slumped. “She’s dead.”
“I know, and I’m hurting for you.” Daniel held his gaze. “But if we spend any more time here, we will be as well.”
T
he dogs were halfway down the slope. Maravek was little more than a stick figure behind them, but he wasn’t slowing down.
“We’ll keep running until it’s safe to come back,” said Daniel.
Ram smeared tears from his face with the back of his hand. “Will it ever be safe?”
“It won’t,” said Kora behind them. She stared at Myra’s body, and in her hand she clutched Tess’s knife. “They’re coming for me. I—I don’t want to die like her.”
“Nobody’s going to die,” said Daniel with more conviction than he himself felt.
“We can’t outrun the dogs,” said Ram.
“Then we pick our ground and take a stand,” said Daniel. “Litty has to make it across that bridge and into the woods on the other side. She doesn’t need all of us. If we fight, one of us might make it out.”
The dogs snarled and barked.
Kora’s head snapped up, and the sight of her eyes sent a chill down Daniel’s spine. Dark, glazed, brimming with panic and morbid anger—the eyes of a hundred demons clutching at her soul. She took a step towards him. “We’re not fighting them.”
She yanked the knife out of his belt and drove it into his side.
Pain exploded in him like burning shards of ice as she drew the cold metal out of his body. Kora stumbled back, her arms hanging limp at her side, and with a cry she turned and ran.
“Daniel!”
Ram’s voice echoed in his head like a distant dream. All other sounds were lost to him. He felt Litty slipping from his arms, but strong hands caught her before she could fall. The ground drew him down, and he landed on his knees. His vision throbbed in black and red splotches.
“I’ve got her,” said Ram’s echo in his head, “Just run.”
Run. Run. Run. Daniel slipped away and fell.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Daniel awoke in a pool of his own sweat. His fingers groped the darkness around him and found nothing but cold, damp stone. He tried to move, but the stabbing pain in his side kept him rooted to whatever hard surface he was lying on. He wasn’t even sure if his eyes were open or closed. He remained still, listening to his surroundings. There wasn’t much to hear. Water dripped somewhere off to his left.
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