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The smell of bread drifted through the rafters and into my little room above the bakery, sweet and yeasty. Not a bad smell to wake up to, though it does make me hungry.
Morning sunlight sliced through the cracked and dusty window, painting sharp lines across the equally dusty room. I woke up facing the ceiling and still donning the dress from last night. The ceiling looked back at me like a blurry landscape. I just stared at it for a bit, like the blank brown space would bring me some peace. I thought back to my conversation with Eshlyn last night. The dinner before it, that amazing trick we pulled off in the river.
Swimming with a sea elf… I don't think I’ve ever laughed that hard in my life.
My mind drifted to Eshlyn’s warm touch on my back, the way she rested her forehead against mine, steadying us in the water. The way her eyes lit up when I pushed us into the sky, like I was someone worth believing in.
Even told her I was a fugitive last night… but she didn’t care. It made no sense to me. She said she’d fight for me… I paused, staring up my my hand. Maybe she's not as smart as she thinks she is.
When she told me she wanted to try, even though there were a million-and-one reasons we shouldn’t. No strategy, no idea how to proceed, or what that meant for us. Just that we could try…. The idiot... Still… I couldn't help but want to.
I really can't make a single good decision, can I?
I looked down at the navy blue dress I never took off. I could still feel the ghost of her thumb brushing over my knuckle.
Maybe I should go see her today… No.
Today I’d be busy. I needed to go back to Xolob’s shop. I needed to see what’s there, and I couldn't invite her to that. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up to face the door before noticing a soft glow pulsing from the edge of the nightstand. Aether-script? The glow grew brighter the second I looked at it, then resolved into silver letters curling across the air as if it were floating parchment.
It looked just like the note Eshlyn left for Val at the southern gate that day, though I doubt she figured out where I was staying and scribbled it in person. Must have sent it somehow. I pushed off the bed to get a better look at it. The note shimmered with her signature, elegant and neat, like her handwriting reflected her status.
Good morning. Swing by the shop today?
I stared at it for a long beat, lips pressing into a thin line, not sure what to think. There was an obvious space under it, like it was waiting for me to write a response. My thoughts still lingered on the events of last night. Eshlyn had waited for hours while I was in that interrogation room. We spent much of the night together after that, and now here she was, reaching out again.
I let a grin slide across my lips. Maybe Dent was right, she is trouble. I’d be right across from Selene’s shop. Just down the street from where Eshlyn worked, but I couldn’t let her see me. I had to find out what happened to Xolob… Figure out if I could help them in any way, and if Eshlyn saw me, she’d know I was up to something. Whatever happens today, it's on me. No one else.
I felt like that was the least I could do after stealing Xolob's bow right out of their hands and basically causing everything that followed. A slow breath escaped as I neared the note and tried writing in that space. I traced a finger over the blank opening below the lettering, ike pressing on glass, but nothing happened. Just had to make it complicated… I tried again, this time closing my eyes beforehand. Focus. Intent. Scribe. Write. It worked this time. Silver lingered in the wake of my finger.
Maybe later. Errands.
Damn… it couldn’t straighten my handwriting even a little?
The words etched into the hovering glass then vanished, like the note fell out of existence, or was never there at all. I stood still for a moment, the emptiness on the nightstand more noticeable than before. Then pulled on my armor and cloak, fastening my satchel before checking my daggers and bow for wear. I paused, then checked them again.
I'm stalling, aren't I?
One glance at the window told me the bakery was already in full swing below, people bustling in and out, chasing cinnamon dreams and fresh loaves.
I can do this. I reassured myself before pulling my hood up and slipping out the back, silent as a breath.
...
This part of the City of Souls hadn’t changed. Still crooked. Still cold. Still too full of things that stared at you when you weren’t looking, but Xolob’s corner of it… That had changed. The shop was gone. Burned down to its bones.
I remembered that janky wooden sign swinging in the breeze, Xolob’s Trinkets, with hand-painted letters and a little etched skull in the corner. Now, the sign lay in the gutter, half-charred and cracked like it had screamed on the way down. The building itself was just a husk. Blackened timbers jutted like ribs out of the foundation. The stone was scorched and lined with soot. Ash clung to everything. Even the air tasted like it.
I moved past the Watch barriers when I was sure no one would see, jumping over the glyph line in a stride. The glyph hung in the air, buzzing faintly. No alarms went off when I passed. Either they’d given up investigating or wanted it to look that way. It didn’t matter much, though. There was no one here, just empty ash and the nostalgia of what could have been. Finch said the place burned down two days after the incident. The burn looked very clean. It was thorough and obviously deliberate.
Typical Guild shit, no evidence, only cinders and rumors.
I ducked past the sunken remnants of what looked like a shelf, boots crunching over glass and char.
The piles of assorted junk probably made great kindling.
The shelves had collapsed. The jars had exploded into glittering arcs across the floor. Something half-melted in the corner smelled faintly of perfume and blood but didn’t provide any valuable insight. There was little to be discovered. The only evidence I was gaining was how bad I felt about the whole thing. I knew it wasn’t my fault, or even Val’s, for that matter, but the guilt still stuck with me. It grew like ivy under my steps. I swallowed and moved deeper, toward what used to be the back room. Half a ceiling remained overhead, angled like a jaw unhinged. Some of these parts shouldn’t have been flammable, but I’m sure the Guild had their ways.
Ugh… It's not your fault… I repeated to myself, my peripheral vision catching the black twine of the bow I carried. The bow I’d ripped from Xolob’s fingers. It might not be, but I still owe them. Besides, what was I supposed to do? I could hardly sleep knowing they were trafficked by that murderous gang.
I stepped out the back door to where Val and I had chased the recruits. The sewer drain was covered in soot. An unusual amount, like it’d been placed on purpose. Probably spread it to cover their trail… I couldn't help but feel like The Watch should have found this, but of course, I had the advantage of knowing exactly where to look.
The iron drain was slightly warped now. The metal blistered in places, but it was intact enough for me to lift. I looked down into the eerie tunnel below, recalling how I stopped Val from going down there. Told him he’d die if he did… and here I was, alone, staring into that same mouth of dark water.
If he were here, he’d kill me, though the sting of hypocrisy might beat him to it... But I knew what the Guild did to people like Xolob. If they didn’t kill them, they’d be sold to whoever was willing to pay. Being a goblin wouldn’t do them any favors either, so I pressed my fingers to the edge of the grate. The inside was cold and sticky. I knew going after them was idiotic. Knew it in my bones.
This gang catching me would be worse than death, and even if I got away, there was always the risk of them picking me up later. I almost shut the grate, thinking about it, but then my mind went to Val. To what he said while we escaped those cursed catacombs.
“You’re brave in ways that piss me off, and I love it.”
Then looked over in the direction of The Witches Brew, where Eshlyn would be working, hoping I’d swing by at some point. It was just down the street from here. I am not going to fight them. A deep sigh escaped as I reminded myself of it, knowing it was deeply naive. Just in and out. Quiet. No one will even know I was there. I tried to quench the rising panic. Just enough to find Xolob. If I can get them out without being seen, then I will, but otherwise… I might have to let them go... I just hope it doesn’t come to that. I lingered, staring longer than I meant to. At least I was the only one carrying the risk this time. At least no one else would get hurt, or so I thought before lowering myself in.
The drop wasn’t far, but the landing made a squelching sound as the muck splashed up like an ankle-deep waste bath. Fucking GROSS. I thought to myself before looking up at the sunshine and safety I’d left behind.
In and out. I repeated, as the tunnel swallowed the last of the light behind me.
...
The tunnel stretched ahead in soft, curving arcs, some spaces tight or small enough to force me into a crouch. The stone walls were slick with moisture. Faint green moss traced the seams like veins. I kept to the side, sometimes brushing the wall as I moved. I kept my bow in hand, arrow ready, and my steps slow. The air down here didn’t smell like rot exactly. It was older than that. Like mildew and rust had given up the fight and decided to ferment together in peace. I tried breathing through my mouth, but the taste was somehow worse.
I wasn’t expecting direction down here, but I knew those dimwitted Guild members wouldn’t be able to navigate blindly. I knew they’d have to mark the way somehow, so I kept a lookout for anything unusual, and finally, I saw it. Etched into the damp stone, barely visible unless the light hit it just right, was a diamond shape with a black, pupil-less eye in the center.
The Guild’s emblem.
I lingered over the symbol, fingers curling slightly. The etching was shallow, somewhat fresh. Not carved with care, just speed and familiarity. Like whoever had made it didn’t expect anyone to notice or care. Following the trail was simple after that. Another turn. Another symbol. The deeper I went, the more deliberate the path became. Marks every thirty paces or so, like signposts in the dark. Eventually, I noticed something through the widening tunnel space, a chamber with low walls and a sloped ceiling. Faint torchlight flickering inside, dull orange bleeding into the black.
I crouched behind the archway and listened as rough, casual voices came into focus, then crept closer, hugging the left wall, until I could peer faintly into the room from afar.
A crude metal cage sat in its center, and inside was Xolob. They looked worse for wear, hunched and bruised but unmistakably alive. Their leather and clothes were shredded, dried blood caked on one sleeve. One eye swollen shut, but they were upright, sitting cross-legged with their back against the bars like they’d been there a while. Two gang members leaned against a nearby crate, tossing something back and forth, a coin or chip of something. I could barely hear, but one of them snickered at something Xolob said. A third was crouched nearby, inspecting a stack of bindings, probably for transport. These didn’t look like the recruits Val and I fought before. They had an arrogance about them. A steady stance and posture as if they knew what they were doing. Then a fourth. They leaned near the cage, tapping the bars with the butt of a longsword. “Ay! Try not to piss yourself before we get going.”
I watched, counted. Four visible. One hallway leading out. No signs of alarms or glyphs, but this setup looked temporary. One was pacing. The rest drifted. The whole thing was loose, like they didn’t expect anyone to care or be stupid enough to bother them. I was still mapping my approach when I heard something behind me. A footstep. Close and obviously trying for silence.
Shit… Don't panic… When they step in, I’ll surprise them.
I waited and listened for the footsteps to close the distance.
One step… Two… Now.
I twisted around in a snap, dagger aimed where I imagined their neck would be. I sent my blade quickly up toward the source of the sound, but a hand caught my wrist mid-strike, and panic surged from within. Another hand covered my mouth just fast enough to stop the sharp breath I’d sucked in.
WHAT???
... Wait…
Familiar grip, leather and steel. The scent of something like smoke.
Val?
He twisted me around and met my eyes with a raised brow. His two swords glinted in the faint torchlight behind him. I yanked his hand off my mouth. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I hissed in a whisper.
He scowled, crouching to meet my gaze. “Me? What are you doing here?”
“I asked you first.” I retorted.
He scowled. “I’m trying to find Xolob.”
“Alone?” I questioned him.
He paused to look at me in disbelief, “Are you serious right now?”
“Oh, shut it,” I whispered, wishing I didn’t have to. “How could you be so reckless?”
“Me reckless?” he shot back, voice low but sharp. “Surely you remember telling me I’d die if I went down here.”
“Yes, I fucking remember!” I almost shouted, but held back.
He shook his head at me, “I don’t think I've ever met anyone so hypocritical in my life.”
He wasn’t wrong. This was idiotic and so like him to be doing the same thing I was.
UGH. The thought made me shiver. I couldn’t help but hate how similar we were.
I opened my mouth to snap at him, then closed it again. “Fine. You caught me.” I said in a low breath.
He released my wrist and stared ahead, both of us now hiding behind the bend in the tunnel. “I guess you’re one to leap into fires without even a plan. It’s a good thing I’m around, at least I know to bring a bucket.” He said in a mocking tone.
Thinks he's so fucking smart, doesn't he? I glared. “Rehearse that in the mirror, did you?”
Val rolled his eyes. “So you plan to sneak a caged goblin out of a guarded sewer tunnel? What are you going to do… charm them with wit and eyeliner?”
Anger began bubbling like bile in my throat. Did his sarcastic ass really just say that to me?
“Better than your dumbass plan, which I assume is just stab everyone and hope for the best.”
He looked at me as if it took all he had not to bite back at me before calmly saying. “We have the jump, and there's only four of them. It's an easy extract, so what are you waiting for?”
“And what if they’re just the ground crew?” I hissed. “What if more come running the second we engage? Or if we escape, just for them to come after us like they did Xolob. We need to be smart about this.”
He didn’t answer. His jaw was set, brows low.
“We wait,” I said. “Watch where they take Xolob if we have to. We find an opening. No fighting unless we're forced.”
He hesitated. Then gave a reluctant nod. “Fine. But if one of them so much as sneezes at us funny, I’m gutting him.”
I waved a dismissive hand in his direction. “Whatever”.
We eased back toward our vantage point, keeping low. Xolob was still in the cage, still sassing their captors. The group was moving now, pulling out a rope harness and unbolting the cage from the floor. I couldn’t help but feel better knowing Val was here. Even if he’s an insufferable prick, somehow he’s always there when I need him.
One of them muttered something about “transfer hub” and “wagons already waiting.”
Val and I shared a look. Time to move.
We trailed them at a distance, sticking to the tunnel's edges until they reached a slanted ramp leading up. They disappeared through an iron hatch, leaving only the echo of footfalls and the jangle of chains. I waited a bit before creeping up and cracking the hatch enough to peer through the gap. A warehouse. Low light. Stacks of crates. Hay for packaging. Two wagons, both covered. They were loading Xolob into the one up front, placing them in a sealed crate before covering it with the tarp.
I could hear multiple voices now, feet shuffling. There had to be more than a dozen of them in the warehouse. I tried to count. Twenty... Maybe more.
Val crouched beside me, eyes sharp. “We should have taken them earlier.”
“Don't you think I know that now!” I shot back, still whispering. “Let’s just… see where they go.”
We waited until I was sure no one was watching before slipping through the hatch. Keeping to the shadows and moving behind stacks of crates and hay. Finally, we made it to the trailing wagon and hopped under the tarps covering. The inside smelled like rope and dust. What felt like an eternity passed before it pulled off, and outside light began spilling through the tarp's fabric.
“Why do you always have to be right?” I murmured as the voices of city life began to blend with the surroundings.
“It’d do you good to listen to me more,” Val whispered from beside me.
“Yeah, yeah. There should be fewer of them guarding the wagons, but we can't get into a brawl in the middle of town.” I said, now seeking validation.
“We can wait till things quiet down…" He looked at me with a tinge of worry. "I just hope this works.”
...
We’d been stuck under the tarp for what felt like forever. Long enough for the adrenaline to wear off, leaving behind the dull throb of tension and the creeping awareness of just how cramped this wagon really was. It wasn’t made for passengers. Especially not two people who barely fit in the same sentence without arguing.
I shifted slightly, knees brushing against Val’s thigh.
He didn’t move.
The tarp overhead rustled with every bump in the road, and a shaft of muted sunlight kept bleeding through one frayed corner, painting a thin line across the dust that hung in the air. It was hot, like a thick blanket baking in the sun's warmth.
Val being so close to me didn’t help. He ran warm, as if fueled by a tiny forge. I didn’t notice when we shared a room, but I could feel it now, hovering in the space between us. Not even a breath of air separated our shoulders. Only one of mine lay on the wagon floor; the other I had to shrug to keep off the nearby clutter. Our boots tangled every time we adjusted. At some point, it became the most comfortable just to have his elbow rest lightly against my abdomen. Neither of us had the energy or the room to slide away.
I hated how grounded it felt.
“Still with me over there?” he whispered, voice low enough it barely stirred the air.
“Yeah,” I whispered back. My throat was dry. “Just… thinking.”
“Dangerous habit,” he murmured.
I huffed, trying not to smile. Tried harder not to notice how close his lips were to my ear.
The wagon hit a rut and jolted. His opposite arm automatically reached over top of me... so instinctively protective it was annoying. I rested my head to the side enough to meet those icy-blue eyes of his, but he pulled back a second later, so I did the same, turning to stare into the dark sunlit tarp overhead.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” he muttered.
“From start to finish,” I agreed.
He laughed in a way I didn’t expect. “We’ll never learn, will we?”
“Suppose not,” I said, quieter than I meant to. “But it's too late to turn back now.”
...
Eventually, the wagon creaked to a stop, and everything outside fell still. No voices, no clatter, just the hiss of torches and the sound of leather boots over stone.
I held my breath and listened, trying to get a feel for the surroundings. We were underground, that much was obvious. The air was too still, too heavy, like it hadn’t moved in years. Stone pressed in on every side, cold and wet-smelling. They’d driven us through a small tunnel, wherever we were.
Val shifted beside me, his elbow and shoulder brushing against my own. Neither of us spoke. We only waited in tense silence until footsteps retreated and the creak of a side door signaled someone leaving.
Nervousness sprang in my gut as I looked to Val and began signaling a countdown... 5… 4… He gave me a slight nod in confirmation as we closed in on one. I could tell he was half expecting an immediate fight, but hoping we’d get lucky enough for no one would be around.
We slipped out the back like smoke, one careful limb at a time, quick but fluid. The wagon was parked in a low-ceilinged loading zone, lit by flickering lanterns set into the stone walls, reinforced beams, and stacked crates. At least three other wagons lined the far side of the room. There was a set of wooden doors trimmed with Iron on the back wall as if they connected to a larger structure.
This hideout must be massive.
The space wasn’t busy like the first warehouse; this one was quiet. An unsettling silence lingered, only interrupted by the two guards standing near a table off to the right. They were hardly watching the room while talking in low tones. They looked bored, and neither of them glanced our way, so I crouched low beside a crate and surveyed the room again. That’s when I saw them.
Xolob.
They were locked in a goblin-sized iron cage a few crates down from us, just beside a supply cart. Head bowed, but alive. Bruised, limping, and looking like they’d already accepted their fate.
I felt a tightness in my chest rise, but I couldn’t let nervousness take over. Not when we were so close. “We do this fast,” I whispered to Val. “Silent”
Val drew one of his short blades and nodded before moving in line behind me. We moved together like shadows, ducking between carts and barrels, keeping low. Our steps remained small and cautious, avoiding the limited attention of the personnel at the table. Val veered off slightly after a few feet, itching toward the flank of the two guards while I kept my eyes on Xolob’s cage.
Val can handle them, I reminded myself, before hearing one of the guards laugh at something.
The laugh was cut off. It turned into a gurgle before the beginning of a scream yelped out of the adjacent guard; it too was silenced before it could fully take shape. Then came the low drum beat of bodies slumping into stone. I didn’t look. In times like this, I trusted Val more than I cared to admit.
The cage lock was simple but effective, old steel with a triple-tumbler mechanism. I pulled my tools silently from the side pocket of my satchel, palms already sweating. Xolob's eyes went wide as I approached. "I remember you.” They whispered, voice hoarse with disbelief.
I didn’t look up. “Name's Remy... I'm getting you out of here.”
“Have I finally lost my marbles?" Xolob asked in a voice that made me think they were honest about hallucinating.
“I don’t know the answer to that… but I like to think I’m real at least,” I responded without missing a beat.
“You’d come all this way for a stranger?” They asked as I worked the lock.
I chuckled as if I knew it didn’t make sense, “I took your bow without paying.”
“You sure did!” Xolob chuckled in a hush. “I told the detectives to get lost..." They exclaimed, before trailing off,"...but I guess that didn’t work out well given my current circumstances.”
I couldn't help but smile under my hooded cloak. "I'd of done the same thing."
"I knew there was something I liked about you."
I stifled a laugh. "Just hush up, while I work this lock."
It took almost a minute before the first tumbler gave a soft click, slow and deliberate. I held my breath as the second shifted into place quickly behind it, only slowing down slightly for the third. The lock gave one last click before the cage creaked open on its iron hinges, louder than I wanted, but Xolob was free.
Success.
They looked at me, shaking their head. “I can't say I understand, but thank you.”
"Don't mention it."
"What's the plan now?" They looked around, cautious but lost.
“Well…" I thought for a moment before responding. "We leave... obviously,” I knew that's not what they meant, but I didn't want to admit how hard I was winging it, so I added. “Just stay with me till we find the way out.”
Val returned just as I helped Xolob out of the cage. Blood trickled from his blade, but his eyes were focused. “I think we’re alone for now, but we should go before that changes.”
I motioned to Xolob. “Can you run?”
“They beat me up pretty good, but I should be able to keep up." They responded. "I was fast on my feet at one point, you know... Young and sprawly.”
I looked at them blankly before moving towards the way we came in. “I’m sure you were."
Xolob limped, but moved in sequence as we crept back through the loading zone, quicker this time. The wagon we’d arrived in loomed just ahead, the tarp still sagging slightly from where we’d slipped out. Val moved beside me with a blade still in hand, every muscle tight. Xolob trailed behind, light on their feet despite the limp.
I whispered over to Val, pointing in the direction we were already moving, “We went through a tunnel on the way in.”
“Alright, just stay close,” he whispered back.
We were almost to the tunnel, exiting the warehouse, when a door creaked open from behind. Val quickly pulled me behind a stack of crates. I latched onto Xolob to drag him with me. All three of us crouched low, not making a sound as a man stepped into the room through that iron-framed doorway. He was fat and muscled, the kind of build that always looked tired but could swing a hammer twice your size. He yawned, scratching the side of his neck as he ambled toward the wagons.
I held my breath, praying he’d just pass through.
He didn’t. His stride stopped short, gaze locking onto the cage. The open door. The limp chain. And then, to the table, eyes following the trail of blood leading to the bodies Val left out behind a stack of hay.
Everything inside me went still as he took one step backward. Then another. I could feel the air tightening around us like it knew exactly what was coming next.
Shit.
He turned. Not fast. Not even panicked, just a sharp, decisive run, spinning back toward the corridor he’d come from.
I reacted just as quickly, but the door wasn’t far. I lost my cover behind the crates to stand, arrow notched, string drawn. I can stop this in one shot. He’d never tell a soul. Then loosed. The arrow flew clean, straight as could be, given my heart was pounding in my ears. We watched in anticipation as the guy barreled toward the door, my arrow flying like it was racing against the clock. It buried itself in the edge of the closing door, just as it slammed shut behind him.
SHIT!
My stomach dropped. Cold, hollow, and immediate. Not a moment later, the sound hit.
Bells.
A sharp, brassy sound echoing from deep inside the base. An alarm with no rhythm, just urgency. A noise meant to wake up the world.
I turned, motioning to Val and Xolob, “Go! Go! Go!”
Val was already halfway to the tunnel door. “This way!”
We didn’t wait. We’d gone undetected until now, but caution wasn’t a luxury we could afford anymore, and I couldn’t help but feel like we’d just kicked a hornet's nest.
...
Val shifted to cover the rear while I pushed Xolob onward. The bells still rang in the distance, echoing down the passage like they were all around us.
Light seeped in. Its glow widening from the far end until we burst out through a massive, warped iron grate and into the open air. The streets beyond were crumbling, the stones cracked and overgrown with moss. We stood in a stretch of the city that looked like it had been purposely forgotten, boarded windows, shattered roofs, whole buildings leaned like tired old men. I knew exactly where this was. I remembered passing through my first week on the floor, hungry and desperate for a place to sleep that didn’t smell like bones or breathe like ghosts.
The Hollow Ward.
I could’ve stayed, but even then, this place felt like somewhere people disappeared quietly. It wasn’t maintained. The Watch didn’t patrol. No one was meant to live out here. Even I chose to take my chances in the dead forest instead.
Of course, the Guild fucks would have a hideout here.
“This way!” I snapped, already turning down a narrow side street.
Xolob didn’t ask, and Val didn’t argue. We ran, but the Guild was closing in from every angle. Boots hitting pavement. Voices rising. Two burly figures rounded the corner as we turned through the alley. One with a dagger, the other with a heavy chain.
Val turned on a dime, but I knew we couldn't slow down enough to face them properly. Val's first blade caught the chain mid-swing. His second sliced the figure across the throat. The other lunged toward me, wild and fast with a dagger. I felt the sting of Ice burn the top of my forehead as I ducked under the strike, spun, and found his ribs with my own. I pulled it out quickly before he dropped, but there was no time to see if it landed enough to put him out of commission.
“Keep going!” Val barked.
We continued sprinting through the streets and turning down rubble-filled alleys. We were dodging stray crossbow bolts and Guild members on every corner. The district was a maze of half-fallen structures and narrow alleyways. The group from the tunnel was fast on our heels. The distance reduced with every stop or stray soldier we’d dodge or push out of the way. We hit a long stretch of road, racing down it as a crossbow bolt whistled past my shoulder.
I ducked as another thudded into the wall just ahead. “Shit!” I hissed, diving sideways to dodge another.
Val grabbed Xolob by the collar and yanked them out of the line of fire, picking the goblin up with one arm before setting them back down on the other side of a sharp corner.
I cut again, quickly colliding with a thin figure mid-dash. Thankfully, they felt more like a starved civilian than a burly gang member. I got knocked on my ass, peering up to find a rusty doorway with a thin, bearded man in front of it. He reeled back, blinking in confusion, as the loaf of bread in his hands fell harshly to the dust-covered street. I could have sworn he teared up like it was the only solid thing he owned.
No time.
“Inside!” Val shouted, shoving the man into his own home before following him in.
I shot up to my feet, ignoring the flow of blood at my temple. “Go!” I barked, shoving Xolob hard through the open doorway before yanking an arrow free from my quiver. I turned, aiming down the alleyway we'd just emerged from.
A figure with a crossbow stepped into view, rushing to follow us, bolt loaded, but I was already there, aimed and ready. I let the arrow fly, striking him in the chest. He dropped with a sharp yelp before the next turned the corner, and I notched another arrow. I had the second crossbowman in my sights, but Val yanked me inside. He did so just as a bolt screamed past the frame, fired from a balcony or rooftop somewhere. It ricocheted through the doorway, embedding deep into the wall.
I fell into the room as Val slammed the door shut, snapping the lock into place.
The house was small. Lived in. A woman in the kitchen stood frozen, foul-smelling flour dusting her sleeves. A small child stared at us from the hearth, eyes wide and silent.
“You’re not safe here,” I said, already moving toward the back of the house. “You need to go. Now.”
The woman didn’t move, stunned, like the air had been knocked out of her.
“Xanathar’s Guild,” Val snapped. “Move or die!”
The woman finally jerked into motion, scooping the child up with the instinct of someone who had been through this before. The thin man spoke fast, pointing, “There’s a trail out back, it cuts toward the woods.”
“Perfect,” I muttered, already throwing the back door open. “Xolob, stick with them. Go!”
The family surged through. Xolob looked back at me, hesitating for a moment.
“Move!” I shouted, pulling them into a run.
Guild enforcers rounded the sides of the house as my foot left the doorway. One skidded into view just long enough for me to drop him with an arrow to the chest. Another charged the family from the flank, but I caught him in the side before he could reach. I remained in close step with Xolob, pulling them forward, despite the limp. Val was right behind me, deflecting crossbow bolts as we ran ahead, straight for a line of trees.
“Don't slow down!” I urged the family, turning to shoot at our flanks, while struggling to maintain stride.
Even with every arrow finding its mark, there were too many. Boots slammed into the alley. Steel glinted from all sides. I couldn’t reload fast enough. That's when I lost the feeling of Val at my back. He got pulled into a brawl as we ran. His blades flashed once, twice, trying to turn back to the path, but there wasn't enough time. Crossbow bolts glided past from adjoining windows and houses. Even for Val, the chaos was too much. Too much to keep track of. A sword slipped past his guard, slicing him low in the side. A dagger came next, inserting into his gut, all the way to the hilt. My eyes widened as he staggered, a crossbow bolt slamming into his opposing shoulder.
He fell to his knees, and time slowed for me. It ground to a halt just like it did with Eshlyn at the bottom of those stairs.
“Val!” I shouted.
Another shape burst in from the side, ramming hard into Val’s flank, knocking him to the ground in a skid.
“NO!” The sound tore from my lips before I could stop it, my heartbeat crashing into stillness.
He was on the ground. Val was down. I’d lose him like this. The thought burned like spikes in my skull. I’d rather it be me. I’d gladly throw myself over him if it meant he’d live, but there was no time to think. I took a step toward him, catching the faint outline of Xolob just behind me as I turned. Hobbling. Injured. Slower than the others.
My vision narrowed as more enforcers poured into the alleyway. They’d reach Val before I could. He was already half-surrounded. I wouldn’t make it in time. I couldn’t save him… Not unless someone else took the fall. My breath hitched as I turned my head slightly, just enough to see Xolob watching me. Trusting me... but maybe they shouldn't have. Their mouth opened. Their hand lifted. I didn’t know what they were saying. I couldn’t hear.
I can’t lose him. Not after all he’s done. Not after he offered his life to save mine. Not after he carried me out of that tomb, knowing I’d hate him for it. This was my fault. He was always the last to leave. Always behind me, making sure I’d make it.
No.
My eyes locked on Val, still trying to push himself up with one arm, blood streaking the ground. Panic swallowed everything else as I grabbed Xolob by the collar, lifting them off the ground with adrenaline-fueled ease, and moved. Urgently. Desperately.
They gasped. Eyes widening. They were yelling something. Pleading? Cursing? I only saw Val.
It’s not fair, but I love him more.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I couldn’t meet their eyes as I turned, twisting to throw Xolob with everything I had. Right into the enforcers around Val. Right into the Guild.
Their body hit like a crashing weight, knocking the first line to the ground in a snarl of limbs. Chaos followed. Xolob’s scream cut through the air, terror, betrayal, but It came through muffled in my ears. The crowd pivoted. Chasing, but I didn’t watch.
Val was clear.
I was on him the moment my hand left Xolob’s body. He was barely upright as I slung his arm over my shoulders and dragged us toward the treeline as fast as my legs could carry me. Half lifting him. Half reeling from what I’d just done.
“Remy…” His voice cracked. He stared at me, wide-eyed.
I couldn’t look at him. Not yet.
We ran. Limping. Bleeding.
I didn’t look back.
Not once.