Rynna’s brow furrowed. “Oh shit. How would he even know about your parents?”
“Exactly. It’s bullshit.”
“All right, we’ll talk about it after this stupid tournament. For now, push it from your mind.”
Taren pursed his lips but gave a reluctant nod. “Yeah. Okay.” He looked out beyond them. “You take the left. I’ll take the right.”
“Deal.” Rynna gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before they both took off after Bran, moving swiftly through the night.
And as they sprinted across the shifting sands, the quiet of the night was broken only by the sound of their steady footfalls.
Their first encounter came swiftly. A team from Gale Reach, three Hollow-born moving through the shadows, ambushed them from behind a large outcropping of rock. Bran expertly drew their attention, being a big, loud idiot, and they went straight for him.
But he was ready. With a wide grin plastered across his face, he dove headfirst into the fight, dodging a barrage of throwing knives and countering with a powerful strike that knocked one of the Hollow-born flat on his back. Rynna and Taren flanked the others, quickly disarming them and securing their placards.
Bran held the discs aloft. “Three down!”
“Don’t get cocky,” Rynna warned, though she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.
The second encounter proved to be more challenging. A team from Pulse Reach had spotted them first, launching a coordinated attack with elemental blasts that forced them to dive for cover. Rynna and Taren quickly regrouped, circling around to catch the attackers off guard while Bran charged straight at them.
“Five in total!” Bran cheered. “We’re killing it!”
Rynna laughed, the tightness in her shoulders easing as they moved further through the terrain. The night was quiet, and Renji felt like a distant memory. He had to be far behind them by now if he even bothered to leave the cave at all.
“Yeah, we’re doing all right.” For the first time that night, she allowed herself to relax.
Then, cutting through the stillness, a distant scream echoed across the desert, raw and full of fear.
“That didn’t sound like a battle scream.” Bran gripped his knives tighter. His eyes darted to Rynna. “It sounded more like...like what happened at the canyon.”
Rynna ground her teeth, the memory of the giant snake flashing through her mind.
“Do you think the beast is back?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” She didn’t want her team anywhere near that monster again. “But if it is, we should avoid it.”
Bran shook his head. “No. If someone’s in trouble like that, we have to help.”
“We only survived the last encounter by luck,” Taren interjected. “Who knows why it didn’t attack us.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Bran stomped his foot. “It’s the right thing to do. I’ll go alone if I have to.”
Pulling down her sashira, Rynna ran a hand through her hair. There was no reasoning with him when he got like this. “Fine.”
“Rynna—” Taren began, but then he stopped, considering Bran’s words. “Fine. You’re right, Bran. Somebody’s got to do the right thing around here.”
“Okayyy.” Rynna raised her eyebrows, surprised by his change of heart. “Glad we’re all on the same page.”
She lifted her fist. “But we go in together. Eyes open. Blades at the ready.”
Bran immediately raised his fist to meet hers. “Eyes open.”
“Blades at the ready,” Taren echoed, pressing his fist against theirs.
United, they turned and began running.
As they approached the source of the scream, a wave of nausea washed over Rynna. The desert sand was littered with grotesque remains, limbs scattered like broken branches, and large patches of crimson soaking the earth. The coppery stench of blood filled the air, thick and suffocating.
