Zev ran onward, paws lightly touching the ground, moving with a smooth grace. Sword at the ready, Rawn kept his gaze ahead on Von and followed.
Their chances of escape had significantly increased, and hope hung above him anew.
They were going to make it out. They had to make it out.
Aerina’s face surfaced in his mind, and his heart ached.
Wait for me.
Elon stopped at a crossway between four deviations. He studied them a moment, perhaps not sure which one to take. Cries and the clashes of metal echoed around them.
“Which way?” Von pressed.
“Patience, Commander.”
“Which we cannot afford right now, Elon.”
He turned in place, and his amber eye settled on the right tunnel with warmer air. “This way?—”
Zev crouched and bared his teeth at a dark tunnel on the left, sharp canines gleaming. A Bloodhound’s answering snarl rumbled from the darkness as it stalked forward into the crossway. With a savage growl, the wolf leaped on the hound’s back, tearing into its neck.
Guards rushed in from another tunnel. Elon and Von drew their weapons and charged at them, attacking in a practiced formation of soldiers who knew how to fight together. Rawn parried a guard’s blade, slashing through him and spinning for the next. The clash of steel rang out as they fought.
But for every red elf they killed, more flooded the passageways in a steady stream. No matter their skill, they would soon be overwhelmed.
As if in answer to an unspoken plea, a stampede of elves in tattered clothes swarmed the tunnels, shouting spells and attacking the guards with their own weapons. The prisoners they had freed.
Chaos broke out, and magic rendered through the air. Rawn ducked, but no rogue spells touched him. The four-leaf clover, he realized. It brought him good luck, after all. Trusting the clover to protect him, he fought through the barrage of guards. The fallen piled on the ground. Flashing spells invaded his vision, stealing the oxygen as more and more bodies compacted in the crossway.
Rawn’s heart hammered with a growing panic as he struggled to breathe. They needed to get out. But he lost sight of the others. Where did they go? Which way was out?
Slipping on a puddle of blood, Rawn fell out into another dark tunnel. Stumbling back, he sucked in ragged breaths. He searched the swarm for his companions, but it was impossible. He needed to go in and pull them out.
A violent spell flashed orange in the darkness. It vaulted off the protective force field around him, but the force threw him down.
Rawn rolled to his feet, grasping his sword. The air stirred behind him.
He whipped around and white-hot pain impaled his ribs.
It tore the air out of him. His legs gave out, and he sank to his knees. Rawn’s sword slipped from his fingers, clattering on the ground. Shakily, he clutched onto the spear lodged in his side and looked up at Anon.
No.
The red prince ripped out the spear, along with all shreds of hope. Anon beat him across the face with the other end of the shaft and Rawn hit the ground, choking on sand and blood.
Crouching next to him, Anon smirked. “You truly thought you would escape this place, Norrlen?” He rifled through Rawn’s pockets andsnatched away the leather pouch with the clover, tossing it to a hound to eat. The last of his hope evaporated with it. “Well, I’m impressed you made it this far. Bring him.”
Anon strode away, crimson cloak fluttering in his wake. Two guards grabbed Rawn by his arms and dragged him behind their prince. His strength sank beneath the well of pain throbbing against his lungs.
His vision blurred.Aerina…
No, this couldn’t happen.
Sand became hard stone as they carried Rawn up a set of stairs and dumped on the ground. He reached for Anon’s spear, but a boot rammed into his stomach, knocking the air out of him.
“Now, now, don’t be rude, Norrlen. Many guests have come a long way to see you.”
The guards took hold of him again and hauled him along Anon’s footprints, leaving a trail of his blood. They went through a door, and Rawn was hit with fresh air and a bright light that burned his eyes. He squeezed them shut with a strangled moan, but he felt heat on his skin. The sun. He was feeling the sun.
