Damien staggered, breath catching, his own magic twisting inside him, uncooperative. With the knight still advancing, he would have to do the cowardly thing and run from the sword that had already dealt him a potentially fatal blow.
“Enough!”
The ground rumbled, and Damien’s attempt to flee the knight’s longsword was halted, his boots caught in place, followed quickly by his arms. He’d be sliced right in two if he couldn’t get away, the only option left to cast, but the sword never came, and the spell fell away from Damien’s palm in confusion when he saw the knight frozen before him, trapped in a tangle of vines that were vaguely familiar. He looked down to see that he, too, was trapped in those same thick, green tendrils. They were even sprouting flowers.
The elderly witch woman was standing at the base of the tree Amma and the sneaky Righteous Sentries member had just descended. Her staff was pulsing, and where its base touched the earth, hundreds of vein-like roots were crawling away, the source of what held Damien and the knight, as well as the priestess and the mage. Amma was still holding up the last of them with her crossbow, but the old woman shook her head, and both slowly put down their weapons, each taking a step back. Behind the last Sentries’ member, Fior showed up, poking his staff into her back, and she fell still.
“Now, what is all this, dear?” the witch asked, much more politely than the others deserved.
Amma slipped her crossbow over her shoulder. “They’re here to bring me back to where they think I belong, but I don’t want to go.”
“She’s enthralled,” called out Pippa again hoarsely.
“I amnot,” Amma snapped back, a venom to her voice that made it feel as though the vines around Damien had tightened. She took a breath and focused back on the old woman. “I’m not, you know this,” she said, the softness settling back into her words as she touched her own chest. “But it may be ordered by the crown of Eiren that I return.”
Damien’s heart raced, arcana crackling at his fingertips, though weaker than it should have been.
“We don’t answer to your crown,” said Kalani. She was nursing her arm as if she’d been injured. “The Wilds are exactly that, and they are our only mistress.”
“I know, but the crown won’t see it that way. We brought this to you, and we should take it away. I’m sorry.” Amma bit her lip, blinking over at Damien then back. “Just give us a head start.”
The old woman’s thick brows rose, skin wrinkling around them fiercely.
“You shouldn’t be forced to get involved, but I need this last favor from you. Let us leave, and hold them. They can follow right after, just let us be gone first.”
The witches traded glances with one another across the ruins. Many more of them were holding staffs, keeping the vines in place. Amma carefully walked through them, past the bound-up mage and priestess, past Damien and the knight, and to where Kaz had fallen. He was in his imp form, but his red skin had lost its brightness, and when she scooped him up, he was limp but groaned. Amma cradled him to her like she had the infant back in Durendreg, and he didn’t protest.
“Yeah, okay, we can do that,” the old woman quipped, shrugging at the others.
“You’re interfering,” the elven mage warned, whiny voice pained.
“And you’re trespassing,” Kalani replied, the tip of her staff glowing as the vines around the elven man tightened. “If you just disappeared out here, no one would know.”
The vines about Damien loosened, feeling flooding back into his arms and legs, though he wished it wouldn’t, his injured bicep so painful he actually reeled. He rolled his shoulders, anxiously noting the wound still wept, and gave the knight a sideways glance. A vein bulged in the man’s neck as he growled. As awful as the wound felt, that made it sting a little less. But then his eyes trailed down to the weapon that had managed to injure him, and the arcana pulsing through it. He hadn’t come up with that on his own, nor did the priestess—they had help.
Amma went quickly to Damien, turning back to the others. “Thank you,” she said, voice shaking as she rubbed Kaz’s back. “Thank you for everything.”
The old woman nodded to her, nearly hidden eyes shifting to Damien in the dark and then away.
Amma turned, free hand grabbing Damien’s good arm and tugging, and they slipped into the thick line of trees beyond the ruins.
It was immediately much darker with such dense cover, and the night sounds of The Innomina Wildwood came up all around them. From behind, the glow of the ruins still shone, but with every quick step away, they died off until only the moons lit the way when they chanced to break through the trees. Damien didn’t like the dangers The Wilds presented when they weren’t being chased by a small band of idiotic mercenaries, but now, at night and with his wound unhealing, their odds seemed impossible.
Yet Amma was determined, her hand wrapped securely around his wrist, pulling him along. Kaz blinked his eyes open over her shoulder, coming back into consciousness. “Master, I have failed you.” His voice was weak, the divine spell that had hit him taking a much bigger toll than the priestess had ever done before.
Damien shook his head, understanding more than he could say, and the imp closed his eyes again, head falling lax on Amma’s shoulder. “We should stop and discuss this,” he said carefully to her.
Amma only glanced back in the darkness but made no move to halt. “We can’t. I don’t know how much time they’ll give us.”
“Exactly.” He stumbled over a root, struggling to keep his footing, nausea roiling in his guts at the pain that jolted up his arm and was beginning to prod at his chest. “We need a plan. Anything could be out here, and I don’t think we’ll be able to outrun those morons.”
“We don’t need to, we just have to hide.”
Damien retched and not just from the pain he was still trying to ignore. “Amma, I do not hide.” He peered into the shadows for moving creatures or shining eyes, but she had them passing too quickly to tell in the dark. “And unfortunately those imbeciles have somehow found a way to track me, so I do not think Icanhide.”
“I know, I heard them, but I have an idea.” She turned sharply, and the ground began to slope downward. Her footing was impressively steady as they went, though Damien stumbled a second time, trying to keep up.
“Perhaps you could be sweet enough to enlighten me?”
