Chapter 43
Chapter forty-three
The Chase
Ifell to my knees at the edge of what remained of Titan’s Span. My worst nightmare had come true. The people I cared for most had been captured or worse, and I was powerless to stop it. The pain in my chest was a real, physical thing.
But I had to keep going. I had to try.
I ran to what remained of the north tower and scaled the structure. Stones shifted as I climbed, but I ignored the danger. At the top, I peered south. Not far down the path, a group of Sentinels marched. In the middle, Darion and Elena rode on horseback, tied up and bound to their horses.
They were alive.
I let out a shout of relief. Now I had something to cling to. One small thread to hold me together.
The chasm was deep, but at least it was climbable. Jagged rocks and long seams in the cliff face made it a tough but not impossible feat. So I started my descent.
Getting down was quick—sometimes too quick. In my haste, I missed a handhold and scrambled to grab a lifesaving seam in the rock. My fingers shifted but held.
Dust, Cas. You can’t help them if you’re dead.
I paused, took a deep breath, and continued at a pace that was fast but not careless.
Soon I was at the base of the canyon between the two mountains. Rubble from the bridge covered the bottom. Not far away, rocks shifted. Something stirred beneath the debris. Was it possible? Had Syra somehow survived that fall? I couldn’t leave anything to chance.
I pulled out my dagger and approached the spot where I had heard the noise. As I approached, the last thing I expected to hear reached my ears: the quiet sound of weeping.
I moved aside a few of the smaller boulders near the source of the noise. There, under a mountain of rubble, Syra’s miserable face poked through, her tears forming dark lines through the stone dust and grime on her cheeks.
“I’m—sorry,” she said, stuttering out the words.
I was speechless. Frozen from utter shock.
And then a hot rage built in me.
“Sorry?” I said. “That’s what you have to say?”
She spoke slowly, in fits and starts. “I had…had to…watch. It was horrible.” She let out a wretched sound, half groan, half sob. “It…it controlled me. But it’s gone. I…felt it leave.”
And then I understood. She was an Emberborn slave like all the rest. But the draining of her life force must have freed her. I had this slim window of opportunity.
“Where are the Sentinels taking them?” I said. “Please!”
She puffed out rapid breaths between bared teeth, but her eyes were clear and lucid. “Find Elandra…potion merchant…hurry!”
“Elandra? Where do I find her?”
Her eyes rolled back into her skull. Then she spoke, the words clearer than anything she had said before: “The moon dances with the stars.”
She started convulsing as foam escaped her mouth. After one final shudder, her body stilled, and her eyes stared up at me, blank and lifeless. Despite all the harm she had done, I couldn’t help but feel sorrow for this pitiful soul.
The moon dances with the stars? What could she have meant by that? Or was it just the ravings of a mind on the brink of death?
And what was I supposed to do with the single name Elandra? There had to be hundreds of potion merchants across Velmorra. I knew dozens in Analon alone, and as far as I knew, none were named Elandra. Still, it was more information than I’d had before, and it gave me the slightest glimmer of hope.
Climbing up the south cliff was significantly harder than going down the north one. In addition to being more sheer, many of the sections of the cliff were unstable due to the collapse. My arms and legs burned. Halfway up, I found a stable spot to pause and rest my muscles.
It was the first moment since the start of the attack that my mind wasn’t completely consumed with survival. The void quickly filled with thoughts of all the things I could have done differently. It was my job to protect Elena, but she had protected me. And Darion had saved her.
He had chosen Elena over himself.
Over me.
And the truth was, I would have done the same.
But that didn’t make it hurt less.
I began to sob. I had failed the people I cared for.
Get yourself together, Cas! Those people you care for are still alive and nearby but getting farther away by the minute!
So I buried my hurt deep and continued my ascent.
At the top, I scanned the area. Hundreds of footprints and hoofprints marked the dirt as well as long drag marks—clear signs of a struggle.
With the null field up, Elena couldn’t have used her Ember.
I was certain she had still put up a fight, but she would have been hopelessly outmatched.
I ached at the thought of her fighting for her life. Her life and Darion’s.
Now it was my job to save them. I raced down the road as fast as my feet would carry me.
I ran for hours, stopping only to drink water from streams or to rest my aching feet for a moment.
Only when the trail left the mountains did I catch my first glimpse of the Sentinels far in the distance.
A new wave of energy flowed through my weary muscles now that I knew I was on the right path and making progress.
By the time the sun neared the horizon, I was close enough that I had to slow my pace to keep from being detected.
I counted twenty-seven guards in total: eight Sentinels, eighteen Sentinel soldiers, and one commander.
But most importantly, I could see Elena and Darion.
I couldn’t tell much about their state from this distance, but at least they appeared to be conscious.
I let my Ember flow the slightest bit and immediately felt the null field slam into me.
It made sense that the Sentinels would suppress Elena and Darion’s abilities, but it also meant that I needed to be careful not to be detected.
I still felt clumsy and forgetful when I suppressed my Ember, but I was at least getting more used to it and better at controlling the flow such that I had just the amount I needed.
With the last light of day dimming, Bitterridge Keep formed a dark silhouette against the glowing sky. It was hard to believe that just this morning, Elena, Darion, and I had left here full of optimism. My heart ached at how much had changed.
I was relieved to see the group slow as they approached the keep.
It appeared they were stopping for a rest. I climbed a tree that provided a good view of the area.
The soldiers carried Elena and Darion off the horses and into the keep as Sentinels stood guard.
A jolt of anger and panic hit me the moment they touched the people I cared for.
I burned to run right up to them, brandishing my knives.
But that would only get all of us killed.
Through the night, I observed their patterns. Two-thirds of the troops rested while one-third kept watch. Even if I let the full force of my Ember flow, nine guards against one was suicidal.
Deep in the night, I snuck up as close to the keep as I dared.
I stood on the edge of their firelight. A typical company of soldiers would be quietly talking, drinking, or playing dice.
These simply stood at attention, unmoving, utterly quiet.
A twig snapped to the left of me, and all the Sentinels turned their heads in perfect unison in a deeply inhuman way.
Just looking at them sent chills running through me.
I remembered Syra’s dying moments, how she’d finally been freed from the prison in her mind.
I hoped that beneath those steely facades, the real Emberborn still existed and that somehow we could figure out how to free them.
Until then, every life I took was the life of a captive held against their will.
At the first signs of dawn, the camp stirred. The Sentinels were on the move again. I shook out my weary muscles and continued pursuing them. The company headed directly east through the forest, presumably to the main north-south road.
The one piece of good news was that Elena and Darion appeared more alert than they had yesterday.
They looked from side to side and reacted to the bumps in the trail rather than simply being bounced around.
The enormous amount of Ember they’d used during our battle with Syra must have drained them, and a full night of rest had likely done them good.
It was a particularly cruel torture to be so close but completely unable to do anything to help them. My best course of action was simply to continue following them, stay alert, and look for opportunities to act.
One goal I had was to somehow alert Elena or Darion that I was here.
If I could get their attention, it might give them hope to know that help wasn’t far behind.
If they found a chance to escape, they’d know I was there to assist them.
But so far, their captors had kept them well guarded.
Any attempt to get their attention risked exposing me to the Sentinels. So I continued, watching and waiting.
Within a few hours of leaving Bitterridge Keep, the main north-south road came into view.
That presented its own set of problems. On the main road, there’d be fewer places to hide.
There’d also be more traffic, increasing the chance of being detected.
So before we got there, I decided to take a risk.
Giving the Sentinels a very wide berth, I increased my pace and circled around the group I was following.
Once I was sufficiently ahead of them, I climbed a tree that was a stone’s throw from the trail, with good coverage for stealth but also a clear view.
I could easily hide behind the trunk if I was worried about being detected.
Tucked in my tree, I quietly practiced the sparrow call Darion had taught me. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to be good enough.
Soon I could make out the group heading down the trail in my direction.
When they were sufficiently close, I started chirping the tactical signal for “shift left,” hoping he’d turn his head and see me.
But no such luck. Darion kept facing forward, unaware of my signal.
Perhaps I had emulated the bird too well.
I continued the signal until the group was almost beside me, when it got too risky.
I punched the bark. I had hoped so much that he would see me, that I could give him a sliver of hope.
The company was just passing when Darion dug his heels into Buttercup and leaned hard to the left. The horse bolted so suddenly that the Sentinel soldier holding the bridle lost their grip.
He had heard me.
Buttercup charged through the woods in roughly my direction.
In the blink of an eye, I was down the tree, shifting my position in the undergrowth so I’d be directly in front of the horse, all while trying to remain invisible.
I wasn’t sure what I’d do when Darion got to me, but I trusted that he had a plan. I only hoped I’d figure it out in time.
Buttercup was moving fast, but the Sentinel soldiers were in hot pursuit. They were close enough that they would immediately see me if I jumped up from my hiding spot.
Buttercup was upon me, and I still didn’t have a plan that wouldn’t get me caught.
But as she passed, Darion whisper-shouted, “Thornfell,” then leaned toward the horse’s left again, sending her turning through the forest away from me.
The Sentinels in pursuit cut the corner to intercept them, no longer headed in my direction.
From my hiding spot, I watched as the Sentinel soldiers finally caught up to Darion. One of them punched him in the gut. He doubled over and let out a cry. I could almost feel his pain. I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out myself.
Every instinct screamed at me to help him, but if I did, his sacrifice would be for nothing. He hadn’t hesitated to risk his life for me.
Soon the Sentinels formed up again and continued east down the path to the north-south road.
Although I’d come up well short of rescue, I’d accomplished two major goals. Darion now knew I had survived and was in pursuit, and more importantly, I knew their destination—the king’s private citadel, Thornfell Keep.