Thank the gods.
The guards are awake.
Relief floods me, but it’s quickly tempered by fear as the grip on my foot tightens, pulling me away with even greater speed. No one will even find me if the guards don’t.
“Hold on, Eirabella!” a deep voice yells. Rylan. Through the brush, I see him rush toward me, sword flashing in the moonlight. But before he can reach me, another hooded figure steps in his path, and they collide in a flurry of steel.
The world around me is chaos, shadows clashing in the dark, the sounds of metal on metal, grunts of effort, and screams of pain.
There’s another tug at my foot, so rough that it almost feelslike my leg is being yanked off my torso, but then suddenly, I’m free. I flip over and struggle to my knees, but adrenaline is streaking through my body, making me shake too hard for steadiness. My vision blurs, and for a moment, I think I’ve been hit in the head again. But no, someone is standing over me, blocking out the pale light of the fire.
“Are you hurt?” The voice is low, commanding, and it takes me a moment to realise it’s Rylan. He’s covered in dirt and blood, hopefully most of it not his own, his eyes scanning me quickly, looking for injuries.
“I—no, I’m fine,” I stammer, pushing myself up onto my elbows. My heart is still pounding, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. “What—what’s happening?”
“Bandits,” he whispers, his gaze flicking toward the remaining fight. “Stay here. Do not move.” He steps away but then leans back, his voice hot against my ear. “For once, listen to me.”
He doesn’t wait for my response. In the blink of an eye, he’s gone, leaving me with a flush coursing up my body from the remnants of his breath against my skin. Am I really reacting to him like this? Right now? I shake my head. It must just be the adrenaline.
The trees make way as he charges back into the fray with the fluidity of a seasoned warrior. I can only watch as he slashes his way through the shadows, his sword flashing in the dim light, cutting down anyone who dares come near him.
Within moments, the bandits are cornered, surrounded by the guards. Desperate, the hooded figures fight with a wild ferocity, but they are clearly no match for the precision and deadly skill of Rylan and the others. Each swing of Rylan’s sword is lethal, cutting through the bandits with a ruthless efficiency that sends shivers down my spine. One bandit, crazed with fear, charges at Mathis with a knife, but Rylan’s swordmeets him first, slicing through the man’s chest and sending him crumpling to the ground.
The air thickens with the copper scent of blood, practically making me gag.
But it’s forgotten as I watch in wonder as Mathis flicks his wrist; a wave of water rises from the nearby stream and crashes into two of the bandits, sending them sprawling onto the forest floor. The water swirls around Mathis and the guards, forming a protective barrier that he manipulates with practised ease.
Yosef isn’t far behind, his own sword ablaze with fire that dances along the blade. He moves with equal precision, his fire-infused strikes burning through the air, searing the flesh of those who dare approach. The combination of fire and water, of heat and cold, is devastating.
A rustling nearby betrays a bandit foolishly trying to sneak up on the group, and I hear my own voice shouting, “Rylan! On your right!” He spins around, and with a single swing of his sword, liberates the bandit’s head from his body, a slash of fresh blood splattering on the white snow.
One by one they fall, their screams echoing through the forest before being abruptly silenced. My heart pounds in my chest as I witness the brutal efficiency with which Rylan and his men dispatch their enemies, each death a stark reminder of the danger I’ve been in this whole time.
And I realise something with stark clarity. Now.Nowis my chance to get away. While the guards are busy fighting for their lives, they’re not going to notice me making a run for it. I look around, searching for the best direction. I have no idea where we are, which direction we came from. I have nothing with me but the clothes on my back and the few coins still shoved into Janus’s jacket. But it’s now or never.
I bite down a strange flash of misplaced guilt and scramble to myfeet.
As quietly as possible, I step out of my hiding spot and start to make a run for it when a face pops out from behind the bushes. Before I can react, a hand grabs at my hair and starts to drag me away from the fighting. “You’re a pretty one. I’d think about actually keeping you for myself if he wasn’t paying such a pretty penny for you,” he snarls, and my veins turn ice cold. The voice sounds like something out of my worst nightmares. Gravelly and full of all things dark and evil.
“No!” I shout, the adrenaline dumping into my bloodstream lending me power I normally don’t have. I kick out, and it doesn’t stop him, but it slows him down.
That is, until there’s a flash of silver, and the hand attached to my hair is no longer attached to a body.
I scream as the hand falls from me, and Rylan appears, lunging forward and with another slash, cuts the bandit straight down the middle from head to stomach. The squelching sound of him gurgling to his death almost makes me retch.
“I told you not to move. This timelisten, for fuck’s sake!” Rylan growls before throwing himself back into the thick of the fight, a flurry of bloody steel and death.
And I do.
Just as the battle seems to be winding down, I see Mathis struggling with a particularly large attacker, his sword locked in a desperate clash with the man’s dagger. His water shield has long dissolved into mist in the night air. The bandit’s face twists with rage, and he snarls as he pushes Mathis down, the sheer force of his sword forcing the guard to his knees. Panic surges through me as I see the bandit pressing his sword perilously close to Mathis’s straining throat. But before the blade can draw blood, Rylan appears behind him, his sword flashing in the dim light. With one swift, merciless move, Rylan spears the bandit’s body through the heart. There’s a moment of complete stillness, and then he crumples to the ground in front of Mathis.
The danger is over as quickly as it began, the final bandit lying dead at Rylan’s feet.
The forest falls silent again, save for the heavy breathing of the guards and the crackling of the dying fire. I find myself trembling as the reality of what just happened settles in. The bandits are dead, every last one of them. And though I know they were a threat, the sight of their lifeless bodies leaves me shaken, a cold knot of fear and unease twisting in my gut.
Rylan appears by my side, and I have to fight the urge to throw my arms around his neck in relief. He kneels beside me, his expression inscrutable behind the mask. “We need to leave,” he says, his tone more urgent than I’ve heard it before. “Before any reinforcements come looking for them.” He nudges the dead bandit at my feet. “And us.”
I nod, my throat too tight to speak, and I gratefully take the hand he offers to help me to my feet. He makes sure my legs can hold me and then extracts his hand. But not before he… no. I must have imagined it; he didn’t actually squeeze my hand. It’s not until we’re closer to the campfire that I notice him slightly tilting to the side and holding his waist. Blood seeps through his fingers and onto the ground, but his face is set in determination.
