“You’re notthatgood a liar, you know,” Bell accuses.
More rocks tumble down, the walls sinking into the earth rather than falling on top of people. Rakos keeps a protective hand over Bell’s head, and sure, everything is literally falling apart around them. But Rakos is whole again with Bell under his arm.
This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have brought Bell to such a dangerous place. But Vana still hasn’t caught either of them, so they can still get out unscathed.
Navigating the labyrinth is easy now. Most of the walls have fallen, and Rakos leads Bell on a rubble-strewn direct route towards what was once the south entrance and is now a pile of smoldering rocks. Revelers disperse into the margrave’s estate and the foggy city streets, while water magic blasts over the remains. Magic fire turns to ordinary steam.
Overhead, a dragon swoops over, picking up a passenger from inside the labyrinth. The flames below illuminate the red-purple scales of Irenka’s Miklan. Rakos keeps moving, pulling Bell forward when the minstrel tries to stop and stare.
As promised, Ludvik waits on the edge of the margrave’s property. His disheveled hair and clothing aren’t entirely the result of the labyrinth’s collapse, Rakos wagers.
When Ludvik sees Rakos, his eyes narrow, and he hisses like a cat. “This is your fault, isn’t it? Why are you people always like this?”
“Totally not my fault,” Rakos retorts. Fuck, he needs Ludvik not to identify him in front of Bell. He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He never thinks this far ahead.
“That’s what I was saying,” Bell says to Ludvik. “But who are you?”
Ludvik blinks as if seeing Bell for the first time. “Great question.” He turns to Rakos. “Who the fuck is this? Irenka didn’t say anything about—”
“Never mind,” Rakos says. “Just get us the fuck out of here.”
“Never mind,” Ludvik repeats. “Typical fucking—”
“Not another word,” Rakos growls before Ludvik can saydragonrider.
Ludvik flinches. “Fine. Follow me.”
Rakos hugs Bell close. Kisses the top of his head. “Ludvik’s a friend of a friend. For a given value of friend. We can trust him, probably.”
Bell’s eyes are wide beneath his mask. There’s a fraught uncertainty there, but he just nods and follows quietly into the night.
They make it just a few city blocks into Nost before hoofbeats clatter behind them. Ludvik swears and skids to a halt. “There are horses waiting for you that way.” He points down a side street. “I’ll lead these people off.”
He sprints back towards the margrave’s manor before Rakos can say anything.
Rakos swears and turns to Bell, who leans over, hands on his knees. His half-mask has fallen off somewhere. Rakos rips his own mask off, sucking in easier gasps of night air, and asks, “Can you keep going?”
Bell doesn’t answer. Just nods sharply and takes off with Rakos once again.
Dark city streets blur around them. They’re half the city away from the caravan. They need somewhere to hide and catch their breath soon, because Rakos doesn’t know how much longer Bell can run. Rakos is near exhaustion too after using so much power to destroy the labyrinth.
Around one corner, Bell yelps and yanks Rakos to the side. “Magic!”
They nearly crash into a streetlamp avoiding the fireball that rockets down the street. “Fuck.” Rakos shoves Bell behind him. “We’ve got company.”
A new squad of drasgard emerges from the darkness in front of them, their black steel armor gleaming beneath the stars and streetlamps. A dozen or two dozen. At least two are mages, given the blade of wind slicing towards them.
“Fuck.” Rakos dispels the wind blade, and the fireball that follows it, batting them away easier than swatting flies. Except if he misses, these flies will burn him to death. And worse—Bell. “I’ll distract them. You run that way. They want me, not you.”
“Why?” Bell seizes his shoulder. “Tell me why they want him.”
“Later,” Rakos snaps. “Just go.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Bell snaps back—and stays.
Rakos doesn’t have time or attention to argue more. The next fireballs come quickly, from various directions. He nullifies them easily enough. The wind blades are more difficult, nearly invisible in the night. Harder to see and harder to counter, they zip in from too many angles at once.
Shadows rise at Rakos beck and call, twisting to counter the enemy spells in whirls of silken darkness. There’s no hiding his magic from Bell now.
