The filament snaps out. I feel the shift in the air. The line cuts toward us, so I twist, dragging him with me, but it’s too late.
It wraps his leg, jerking, and he slams against the rock. We’re halfway up; I try to hold onto him, and my grip nearly tears free.
“Kael—!”
“I’ve got it.”
I move down enough to reach. I close my hand around the filament, the metal biting into my skin as I wrap it tight around a jagged edge above us.
I pull with everything I have. The creature pulls back.
I brace, my feet slipping, arms shaking. No. Not this time. Not this close.
“Hold,” I whisper, more to myself than to him.
The rock cracks. A sharp, splintering sound that echoes through the narrow space. He shifts, twisting, a violent wrench of his body that shouldn’t be possible in the state he’s in.
The angle breaks, and the line slips. Kael tears free.
“Move!”
I don’t hesitate. I climb. Fast. I drag him with me, forcing every last bit of strength out of both of us as the opening closes in around us, the space tightening until there’s barely room to breathe?—
Then we break through. Light hits like a blow. Blinding.
After the dark, after the tight, suffocating pressure of the tunnel, the open sky feels wrong. It’s too wide, too bright, too exposed.
Heat slams into me.
Air. Real, clean air.
I drag in a breath that burns all the way down as I pull him forward, both of us stumbling out onto the sand.
The ground behind us explodes.
The creature tears through the opening, forcing itself into the open with a violent surge. Its body unfolds from the rock into the light. For a second, I’m frozen, staring at the damn thing. Out here it looks even bigger. More dangerous. More deadly.
The eye locks on us. There’s no cover. No escape. I turn, bracing, and pull him upright. This is it. We don’t have anything left. Not another move. Not another trap. Not?—
Something hits it from the side. Fast. Violent.
The impact drives the creature off balance. It slams into the sand hard enough that the ground shudders under the force. It reacts instantly, adjusting, but it’s too late.
Another strike. Then another. Coordinated. Not random.
I freeze. Just for a second. Because this isn’t us. I’m sun-blind, only seeing shadowy figures moving across the sand. Fast. Controlled. Weapons. Formation.
They drive the creature back, forcing it away from us. My breath catches, because at the center of them, one doesn’t move like the others.
He doesn’t rush forward; he stands, commanding.
The others move around him like they’re part of something bigger. Something trained. He steps forward as my eyes adjust, and I recognize him.
The scarred Zmaj who’s been more active in the camp recently. He’s been leading hunts and helping with the logistics of moving the survivors to the city.
Kaelreth goes still.
“...You,” he says.
