32. Phoebe
32
PHOEBE
M y heart is in my throat. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, dampened by the cold sweat covering me. There is no time to waste, but fear is a weighted blanket pressing onto me.
“Faster,” Vapas murmurs, putting his hand on the small of my back. “They are close.”
I’m too out of breath to answer and even if I wasn’t, there’s nothing to say. I can feel them getting closer. It sounds like they’re pacing us on the other side of the buildings while we dart down this tight space between the outer cave wall and the ramshackle hovels.
It’s almost too dark to see. The light of the torches that illuminate the city barely reach back here. I stub my toe more than once. Vapas has to turn sideways and scrapes loudly when the passage constricts.
Then my foot hooks on something and I’m falling. The only thing that stops me from faceplanting is Vapas grabbing the back of my shirt in time. He jerks me upright. My arm scrapes against the rough stone of the hovel next to us.
My arm stings, but there's no time to check the damage. The thundering sound of boots on the street opposite close in while shouts are echoing off the cavern walls. They're coordinating, trying to cut us off.
“There!” Vapas hisses, pulling me toward what looks like a wider opening ahead.
I stumble towards the open intersection, hoping we can slip away before the Maulavi trap us, maybe?—
A torch blazes to life directly in front of us. The sudden brightness is blinding after the darkness of the passage. I stumble backwards, falling against Vapas' chest, as shapes emerge from the shadows. Three Maulavi are blocking our path, their flowing robes making them look like pieces of night taken form.
We spin around but more torchlight flares behind us. More Maulavi fill the narrow space we just came through, their weapons glinting. The flickering flames cast grotesque shadows on the rough stone walls, making it seem like we're surrounded by dancing demons. Which we might as well be.
“No escape,” one of them says in thickly accented Zmaj.
Vapas pushes me to the side and behind, pressing me against the wall. His massive frame nearly fills the width of the passage.
“Stay behind me,” he growls, the sound rumbling through his chest and into me from my hands pressing against his back.
The first Maulavi lunges forward, blade glinting in the torchlight. Vapas blocks his thrust with savage efficiency, catching the attacker's wrist and twisting. Something snaps, loud and painful. The blade clatters to the ground and the Maulavi howls in pain.
There are too many. They are surging in, coming from both directions, and filling the narrow space with chaos. Vapas fights like a caged beast, each movement precise and brutal. One attacker flies backward into his companions. Another crumples with a crushed windpipe, but they keep coming.
I step aside when Vapas punches one and the body flies at where I am. Then, suddenly, cold metal is pressing on my throat. I didn’t see him get behind us. Didn’t realize there was enough space between Vapas and the wall for someone to slip through. The blade bites into my skin, drawing a warm trickle of blood trailing down my cool skin.
“Stop!” His command cuts through the mayhem. “Or we kill her.”
Vapas freezes mid-motion, his fist inches from another attacker's face. His eyes lock onto mine, and I see the moment his resolve crumbles. He could probably fight his way free, even now. But he wouldn’t be able to save me.
“Submit,” the voice behind me demands. The blade pressing harder.
Vapas' shoulders slump and he slowly lowers his hands.
They swarm him immediately. Six of them grabbing his limbs, his head and forcing him to his knees, and still he struggles. One of them strikes him across the back of the head with something heavy. His eyes roll back and he slumps forward, barely conscious.
“Vapas!” I try to move but the knife at my throat is a sharp, cold reminder that I can’t.
“The Shaman will be pleased,” someone says.
They bind Vapas' hands with heavy chains. There is enough metal to hold something three times his size. They're taking no chances with him. My own bonds are mere rope, almost an afterthought.
As they drag us away, I catch Vapas' eye. Despite the blow to his head, his gaze is clear and focused on me. There's a promise in that look, one that needs no words. This isn't over. Whatever happens next, we'll face it together.
Then I see two hooded figures looking down on us from a nearby roof and something about them strikes me odd. One of them disappears from sight, then it hits me.
We were bait.