He shivered. His skin was cold and clammy, and his breath came in shallow gulps. What was happening to him? Where was he?
He tried once more to move, and was rewarded with a wave of pain and tremors for his efforts. A raspy groan made its way out of his dry throat.
Immediately, something moved—something very close to him. Probably some dark underworld creature coming to finish him off. He panicked. Where was Ram? Where was—?
A miniature hand touched his arm. “Danny.”
He breathed a sigh of relief through his feeble lips. “Little one. I can’t see you.” His voice felt like sandpaper on his vocal chords.
The hand disappeared, and a moment later, a round face popped into view, just inches above his nose—still little more than a silhouette against the void above him. “Hi.”
He grinned. “That’s better. Where are we?”
She didn’t answer, but started to climb on top of him.
He groaned and held her back with his arms. “No, Litty. You can’t get on me now.”
A pause. “Danny hurt?”
“Yeah,” he said, “I guess you could say that.”
They fell into silence, and Daniel’s vision gradually adjusted to the darkness, allowing him to get a better idea of his surroundings. He and Litty were in a cave with a sandy floor, and judging by the disk of dark blue sky and rock outcroppings above him, he guessed they had somehow made it into one of the many pocket caves during their flight from Maravek. The cave itself was too large for him to be able to see any walls, except for the one immediately to his right, nor could he locate the source of the dripping water.
“Do you know where Ram is?”
She nodded, her bouncing hair the only visible motion.
As if in response to his question, a figure shifted from the shadows in the depth of the cave, and Ram shuffled into view, his head bowed and his shoulders slouched. “You’re awake.”
“I think I am.”
“How do you feel?” His voice lacked its usual cheeriness.
Daniel hacked out a laugh. “Like I’m on my deathbed.”
Ram didn’t say anything.
“What happened?”
He took a moment to respond. “When you passed out, I did the only thing I could—the caves. Dropped you in like a sack of coal. Then Litty. Sun’s down—we’ve been below ground for a good portion of the night.”
“Maravek?”
“Out there, somewhere. The dogs ran off after Kora—my guess is that they were following her scent all along. It makes sense, and it’s the only reason we’re still alive. Without them, he hasn’t found us. Yet.”
“Kora. Is she—?”
“Dead?” He spat out the word. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve never wanted someone dead until…it’s wrong. I know it is. But I just don’t understand. Myra—now this. We should have gotten rid of Kora. We should have listened to Tess. We—”
“I don’t understand either. I don’t know why this is happening. But it is what it is, and we’ll make it. We always have.”
Ram blinked back fresh tears. “Myra is dead, Daniel. She’s dead. It should have been me, not her.”
Daniel understood his pain. “I’m sorry.” He hesitated. “Litty, can you go play with Ducky for a bit?” The little girl pattered away, and he lost sight of her. He half-sighed, half-groaned. “Help me sit up.”
“No. Stay still.”
Ignoring him, Daniel propped his elbows on the stone under him, sucking in a breath at the pain in his side.
“Will you listen to me, just once?” Ram all but pushed him back down. “I bound the wound, but I’m a miner, not a doctor! I can’t just—” He cut himself off and fell silent.
Taken aback by the lashing tone, Daniel complied.
A minute ticked by. Water dripped. Then, “He’s still looking for us. He won’t stop until he finds us. I’ve been able to sneak out a couple times and watch him. Sometimes he’s far enough away that I think he might give up and take to the woods again. Other times, he’s so close I can hear him swearing to himself.”
“What about Andrale?”
“I don’t know. Same thing, no doubt, only a lot more efficiently. I’ll have you know, I would have moved you long before now if I thought I’d have more than a minute of safety.”
Daniel flexed his stiff legs. “I can move now.”
“No. You can’t. I don’t know how much blood you lost before I could patch the wound, and I don’t know how deep the knife went. If we leave this cave you’ll be crawling at best, and if Maravek and Andrale get a whiff of us, don’t you doubt for a second they’ll rain bullets on us. All of us.”
In the back of the cave, Litty had gone silent. Daniel suspected she’d fallen asleep already. “He wouldn’t.”
“If it means taking you down?” Ram threw up his hands. “Are you willing to take that risk?”
“No.”
“Neither am I. That’s why we’re stuck here. I’ve paced, and I’ve hit my head against the wall, and I’ve worked through every imaginable possibility. Short of a miracle, there’s no way we cross that bridge alive.”
Daniel fell silent. Water dripped. “Maybe not three.”
“What does that mean?”
Daniel peered into the darkness towards where Litty slept. Then he lifted his face and met Ram’s gaze with heavy eyes. “Litty survives.” He shut his mouth with tight lips against the barrage of outcries that followed that statement in his mind.
Ram squinted at him, and then eyes widened. He shook his head. “No.”
“She’s the only one that matters.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“This was never about me, Ram. It’s all been for her. You know it.”
“No. I won’t let you.”
“You gave your word.”
“She needs you.”
“No, Ram. She doesn’t need me. You said it yourself—I need her. I need her to live, to be free of guilt, to be happy. She needs to have a chance in this world, and this is the only way she’s ever going to get it. You once told me that doing the right thing means that, now and then, you have to be a soldier. And you were right.” He paused. “You’re a soldier now, Ram. For me, and for Litty, you have to be a soldier.”
Ram’s lip trembled. “It wasn’t supposed to end this way.”
Daniel’s heart felt like it was being wrung out like a towel. “You have to promise me—promise me you’ll look after her.”
For a moment he looked like he would object. He dipped his chin. “You have my word.”
Daniel nodded. “I trust you.” He swallowed past the peach-sized lump in his throat. “Whether she’ll admit it or not, she likes you.”
“I know she does.” He made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. “I’ll have you know, I can read kids like an open book.”
Daniel smiled through the tears. “Of course.” He wanted nothing more than to pick her up and hold her for the rest of his life. “You’ll have to be quick. I’ll buy you as much time as I can, but there’s no guarantee they won’t go after you too, if they see you.”
Ram nodded.
“Can you bring her to me? I—I want to be alone with her.”
“I understand,” Ram said. He brought the sleeping girl and laid her next to Daniel. Then he retreated to the other side of the cave, where his bulky form melted into the darkness.
Daniel knew he wouldn’t sleep. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself into a sitting position with his back against the cold stone. He picked Litty up and gently set her on his lap. Still asleep, she stirred and nestled her warm check against his chest. He took her little hand in his and held it tight, rocking her back and forth. With his other hand, he stroked her hair softly. His physical pain faded and gave way to a new pain that shook the foundations of his being.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Morning came. Daniel could only tell by the gray patches of lightening sky visible through t
he entrance of the cave. But it was enough.
As though sensing it was time, Ram emerged from his corner. His eyes were red.
Daniel gave him a nod. He ran his thumb down Litty’s cheek. She hadn’t moved from his lap all night. “Time to wake up, little one.”
With some coaxing, her eyelids fluttered open, and she groggily sat up, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands. “I’m hungry.”
“I know. You’ll get something to eat soon, just you wait.” He lifted her off his lap and placed her on her feet in front of him. “Let me look at you.” She gave him a bedraggled stare, and though his mouth lifted into a grin, his heart lurched. “Can I have a smile?” He poked her tummy, and her face lit up as she giggled. “That’s better.”
Ram tapped his wrist with two fingers.
Daniel took Litty’s hands in his and pulled her closer to him. “Litty—” He fought hard not to break down. “Litty, Danny has to tell you something. You’re going to go with Ram today.”
The grin stayed on her face. “Danny.”
“No, little one…not this time. Danny has to stay.” Each word choked out like little pieces of his heart. “We—we have to say goodbye now. For a long time.”
The grin faded, and she looked up at him with sad, confused eyes. “Bye?”
“That’s right. But—but you know something, little one?” He cupped her cheek with his hand. “You’re going to have a happy life. You’re going to grow up, and you’re going to be the prettiest little girl there ever was. You’ll have a mommy, and a daddy, and everything a girl could ever want. You’re going to learn how to read and write, and how to tie your shoes. And then, one day, you won’t be a little girl anymore. And even though I won’t be able to see that happen, I’ll be proud of you. My little girl.”
Ram heaved himself out of the cave. “Daniel…”
He knew. “I don’t want to let you go, Litty. But I have to.” He picked her up and held her in his arms one last time. He leaned his forehead against hers. “My precious, precious ducky. I—I don’t know if you’ll remember me when you’re older, but no matter what happens, no matter how much time goes by… I’ll always be your big brother.” Never looking away from her eyes, he lifted her up through the hole.
Ram reached down and took her.
“I love you, little one.” For a moment, she was there, Ducky hanging loosely from one hand, the other reaching down to him. Her eyes, big and blue, confused, not understanding. Then she was gone.
Daniel wept.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The chill of the early morning permeated Daniel’s arms and legs right down to the bone as he stepped into the shadow of the mountain forest once more. Tendrils of fog rose from the forest floor like silent wraiths, catching the newborn rays of the sun and parting like the sea as he passed through them.
He barely noticed any of it. He held his chin high and focused on nothing but placing one foot in front of the other. With each step, pain coursed through his side, but he pushed the pain out of his mind. His heart was a stone. He felt nothing. In all practicality, he was already dead.
He struck a course due south, deeper into the foothills, away from the bridge. In the northern distance he could hear the thundering of the Weeping River, and when he reached a dry riverbed that once channeled one of its many tributaries, he turned and followed it downhill. It was an arbitrary decision. It was only a matter of time before the predator found the prey.
Then, out of the corner of his eye he saw it—the shadowy figure paralleling his path in the mist. He kept his face pointing forward. He couldn’t tell if it was Maravek or one of his cronies, but he had no intent to stop until he had put as much distance between himself and the river as possible in order to maximize their plan’s success.
It was slow going. The carpet of leaves was slick with the morning dew, and on more than one occasion he nearly lost his footing. Not only that, but the hill he descended was steep and irregular, forcing him to consider each step carefully. His hunter never fully showed himself, but Daniel knew he was still there—the soft crack of a twig, a misty breath in his peripheral vision, and the gleam of filtered sunbeams on metal.
He came to a clearing in the forest where a stone wall joined up with the riverbed in all its crumbling antiquity, and there he stopped. His side would allow him to go no further, and after a quick glance around, he knew he was alone. The rounded stones of the wall were thick with moss, several lichen-infested trees lorded over the glade, and the mist seemed even thicker than everywhere else. He determined it was as good a place as any to die.
Daniel leaned against the stone wall and waited.
He didn’t have to wait long. The mist at the other side of the clearing parted like a set of doors, and First Preceptor Dom Maravek stepped out from the murk of the forest. He was alone.
Daniel’s pulse quickened. The success of Ram’s escape with Litty depended on the bridge being unguarded. If Maravek’s men had stayed behind…he didn’t get a chance to finish his thought. Maravek stopped in the center of the clearing.
“Daniel Black,” he said. “Strange, isn’t it, how you and I have been going at this game of cat and mouse, and yet this is the first time we’ve actually had a civilized encounter.”
“There’s nothing civilized about you,” Daniel said. He stood straight, hoping the growing fear in his stomach wasn’t evident in his voice. “All the same, I expected you to come with a more formidable force. As I recall, you yourself said what a fox I am.”
Maravek chuckled. “So you are.” He raised his hand in the air and motioned with two fingers. “But you’re right—there’s no way you’re getting out of this one.”
Andrale emerged from the trees behind Daniel, cutting off any potential escape route in that direction, as though they still expected him to bolt and run. A satisfied grin tugged at the corner of Daniel’s mouth. This was it, then. It was over. The plan had worked.
Litty was safe.
“Are you ready to pay for your crimes?” Maravek gestured towards the space in the clearing before him.
With weak arms, Daniel pushed himself away from the wall. “I am.” He took tentative steps towards the Preceptor until he was just a few yards away.
A look of curiosity passed over the first-ranker, but was replaced by a determined sneer. The two Preceptors closed in on him.
“Kneel.”
He knelt.
Maravek pulled the gun from his belt and took aim.
Daniel’s heart beat so hard in his chest, he was sure Maravek would be able to hear it. But he kept his chin high. He closed his eyes and filled his mind with the image of Litty’s smiling face. Her musical laughter rang like chiming bells in his ears, and in that moment, he knew that, whether in this life or the next, he would never truly be apart from her.
The shot split the silence like a thunderclap. Flocks of birds sprang from the branches of the surrounding trees in a flurry of wings.
Daniel felt no pain. He opened his eyes.
Maravek stumbled back, clutching his wrist and staring in disbelief at his gun on the ground before him. With eyes brimming with red rage, he whipped his head to and fro.
Tess Kerrigan stepped out into the clearing, smoke trailing from the barrel of the gun raised at chest level. She strode with confidence towards Maravek, who returned her grim gaze with one of blazing hatred. Behind Tess came Moriah, her own firearm pointed at Andrale.
Daniel felt his breath and pulse return in a cold flurry. He stayed on his knees, not daring to move. One word from Maravek and Andrale would still put a bullet through him.
“Put it down,” said Tess, still keeping her gun pointed at Maravek.
Maravek snarled. “Shoot them.”
Andrale reached for his gun.
“If you put a finger on that trigger, Andrale, both of you die.” Tess took a step closer. “Stop taking orders from this animal. Don’t be a fool—just put it down.”
Andrale’s lip curled in silent defi
ance. His muscles tensed in his legs, as though he were about to lunge at them.
“You will kneel and show your hands,” said Tess, her voiced as hard as iron, “Or we open fire. You don’t stand a chance.”
Neither of them moved. Maravek was visibly trembling, though not from fear, but Daniel thought he saw a spark of doubt in Andrale’s eye.
Tess and Moriah moved in closer. “Your choice,” said Tess. She steadied her gun.
“Don’t shoot him!” Daniel’s voice cut through the glade like a scythe.
Tess stopped, her finger curled around the trigger, her jaw clenched.
“Don’t shoot him,” he said again, with less volume. “I don’t want it. Not anymore. I don’t want more people to die.”
Maravek met his eyes. The eyes of a beast. And he roared and sprang at him as such. Before Tess could react he collided, and both of them tumbled head over heel. Daniel felt a knee in his stomach and he cried out in pain. They came up. Maravek’s arm locked around his throat, his hand gripping his jaw.
“I’ll snap his neck,” he said, grinding out each word. “I’ll snap it like a twig.”
Tess shot him in the knee.
Maravek stumbled and bellowed. His grip loosened enough for Daniel to break free, and he fell away, gasping for air.
Andrale had his gun out now, but before he could use it, Tess raised her hand, and Andrale froze. At first, Daniel thought her simple gesture had frightened him, but then he looked behind her, and then he understood.
The mountains had moved. The Akorites were coming out of the forest.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Armed to the teeth, the guerillas marched into the glade with steeled gazes, all eyes locked on the Preceptors. They were not here to negotiate.
Maravek’s face was as pale as cold ashes, and he clutched his shattered knee with shaking hands. “Shoot him! Shoot them all.”
Tess turned to Daniel. “Run.”
As if out of sheer desperation, Andrale whipped his gun around in a full circle before settling on Daniel. He fired—and missed.
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