The Eyes of the Enemy （Part 3）
General Warrick reached down and seized Gareth by the throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground as if he were no more than a rag doll.
Gareth's feet kicked helplessly in the air, his fingers scratching at the General's iron grip while icy darkness crawled from Warrick's palm.
Spiderlike veins spread across Gareth's skin where the shadow made contact.
His breaths became strangled gasps, and panic rose as the blackness snaked around his neck.
A sudden wave of weakness washed over him.
He felt ancient and brittle, as if his bones might crack beneath the force of the General's will.
His every muscle screamed with pain, nausea churned in his gut, and black spots danced across his vision as he stared, unable to breathe, into the General's monstrous gaze.
Finally, a chilling realization came over him.
The General was draining the very life from him, siphoning his years away in seconds.
In that moment, Gareth knew his fate would be the same as the Anak'Suke's. He would soon be a withered, emptied husk.
He was helpless.
He could do nothing to stop it.
His panic subsided, replaced by a numbing cold as his vision tunneled and shadows crowded in at the edges.
The world shrank to the distant throb of his own slow and fading heartbeat.
In the suffocating dark, a single image came to his mind, like a mercy before his death. He saw Rowena, vibrant and alive, sprinting toward him from the mouth of the tunnel.
She was alive.
Her hair was flying, and her eyes were burning with that same, fierce determination he always admired in her.
Wait...
It was no vision.
She was really there.
Hurtling towards them with the weapon in her grasp.
Rowena, no!
In a split second, the General's eyes flashed pure black, and his head snapped around, locking onto Rowena.
Rowena's heart wrenched in her chest as she lunged, and in that moment, time seemed to slow.
As the pitch-black blade was poised to plunge into the vulnerable gap of the General's armor, his eyes met Rowena's, then flicked down to the weapon clutched in her hands.
His eyes were bottomless, malignant holes burning with unfathomable desire, and a sickening smile twisted his lips as he eyed the blade.
Then, in a single motion, the blade plunged into his flesh.
A blinding flash of pure, searing light erupted, and an explosion of force hurled Gareth from the General's grasp. He smashed into the iron bars of a prison cell before collapsing in a heap on the cold stone floor.
Rowena felt a jolt like lightning surge through the fabric-wrapped hilt of the weapon. It was a force unlike anything she had ever imagined.
One moment, she was blinded by the brilliant light; the next, agony shot through her entire body as the weapon ejected her and hurtled her across the chamber. She slammed into the stone wall and fell to the floor.
But she did not feel the pain of the impact or the fall.
She only felt her heart seize in her chest the instant the shock struck her, then breathlessness as her lungs could no longer draw air.
Then, all at once, everything faded in a single rush of darkness.
In mere seconds, all color drained from the General's face.
His flesh shriveled, turning pale and ashen.
The unnatural blackness disappeared from his eyes, leaving them dull and vacant.
The grotesque mask of the dark power faded, revealing only a lifeless husk.
He toppled beside the fallen weapon as nothing more than a cold, ordinary corpse on the stone floor.
Gareth gasped for breath, choking and coughing as he struggled to regain his bearings. His vision slowly cleared to see Zephyrah hovering over him. Her mouth was moving, but the ringing in his ears drowned out all sound.
But he cared little for what she had to say.
He painfully rolled over and dragged himself across the chamber to where Rowena's body lay, still and silent on the floor.
He leaned against the wall and lifted her, cradling her limp body in his shaking arms. He brushed his fingers across her pale, cold cheek, leaving behind streaks of blood from his filthy hands. A mixture of conflicting emotions roiled and twisted inside him.
Horror, agony, loss... anger.
Foolish woman. What were you possibly thinking?
Through his ragged breaths, Gareth choked out, weak and broken, "Zephyrah—"
But Zephyrah was already kneeling beside him, along with the Dissolver, who eyed Rowena with desperate anxiety.
Zephyrah examined her carefully, feeling for breath and laying her head on her chest, listening intently for a pulse.
After several agonizing seconds, she raised her head.
"Gareth..." She began, slowly, "She is alive... but only just."
A glimmer of hope surged through Gareth as he whispered, "Can you help her?"
"I—I... no." Zephyrah murmured, sadly. "It would take too much power... I am too weak."
The Dissolver looked over his shoulder towards the staircase of the prison.
"We need to leave. The others will come soon." He croaked.
Gareth's body trembled, but he looked to Rowena's ashen face and determination rose within him. He gritted his teeth and mustered all of his remaining strength. With a painful, desperate groan, he rose to his feet, staggering, but still cradling Rowena in his arms.
He clutched her tightly to his chest and ordered in a weak, gravelly voice, "Gather the weapon."
The Dissolver glanced warily at the black longsword on the ground. "But—what about the scabbard?"
"Check the tunnel." Gareth choked out, struggling to keep himself steady as he took several steps toward the dark corridor.
Zephyrah watched as the boy obeyed, locating the scabbard, then warily scooping up the weapon and sealing it away again. She began to limp after the others, then froze.
"Wait. What about the elf?"
Gareth gritted his teeth as rage boiled in his chest.
"Leave him." He seethed.
She gasped. "Leave him? But, what if he is still alive? He helped us!"
Gareth snapped, "Did you not hear the General? They knew each other. He is a part of this, somehow."
"That is all the more reason to bring him." Zephyrah said, crossing her arms, "We need to find out what he knows."
Gareth groaned angrily, but he knew she had a point.
Reluctantly he said, "Fine. If he is alive, then bring him. But bind him first."
Zephyrah quickly examined the strange, pale elf, finding him surprisingly still intact. Even more curious, he appeared to be breathing strong and evenly, as if he was not on the edge of death at all, but merely in a deep sleep.
The Dissolver brought her a pair of steel cuffs, which she used to secure his hands behind his back, though she doubted it would make much of a difference once he awoke.
Gareth waited impatiently as Zephyrah helped to heave Silverfox over the Dissolver's shoulder. The boy shuddered under the dead weight of his body, but hobbled forward anyway.
The group stumbled through the dark corridor and struggled up the stairs, nearly becoming lost in the labyrinth of tunnels, before finally spotting the exit ahead.
The dimmest glow of grey light was already peeking through the trees of the swamp when they emerged from the pipe. They knew they did not have much time.
"They will be hunting for us soon." Gareth mumbled, grim.
"Where should we go?" Zephyrah murmured, warily glancing around for watching eyes.
"Our destination has not changed. Our answers lie in Tide Gate. It is a risk, but we will have to travel through the swamp, skirting the road as closely as we dare." Gareth said uneasily, gesturing to the road that led away from the entrance of the fortress.
"It will likely be under guard." Zephyrah pointed out.
"We have no other choice."
Without another word, Gareth peeled ahead, leading the weary group into the chaotic tangle of mangroves ahead.
-----
When Rowena opened her eyes, she thought, for a moment that she was back in the North Mountains, lying beneath the roots of a great tree.
But as she blinked away her clouded vision, she noticed the roots were too raised and twisted, and the air did not smell of fresh pine and dirt, but of dank rot and filthy water.
The swamp.
She was somewhere in the swamp, lying beneath a hollow of mangrove roots.
She stared up at the roots, unmoving as her memories suddenly flooded back to her and fear gripped her again.
How did she make it out of the fortress?
Where were the others?
The weapon?
She winced at the stiffness in her neck as her head lolled to the side, but her eyes fell on something that stilled her anxious, racing thoughts in an instant.
Gareth's slumbering face lay close beside her, bruised, bleeding, and filthy. His hand rested on the scabbard that lay on the ground between them, his fingers still curled around the leather. He breathed deep and evenly.
The quiet sound of his breath was like music to Rowena's ears.
He was alive.
She reached out with a trembling hand and brushed her fingers across his cheek, her fingertips lingering on his tired jaw. He did not stir under her touch, and Rowena was silently grateful for it. She did not wish to wake him, only to confirm that she was not dreaming.
"You are awake..." Zephyrah's whispered voice rasped from near Rowena's feet.
Rowena struggled to sit up, but Zephyrah stopped her, gently pushing her back down as she crouched over her.
"You need to rest." She said, "The weapon stole much of your strength. It was a very brave thing that you did—"
"It was foolish." Rowena croaked, her voice barely even audible. "I—I do not know what I was thinking..."
But she did.
She remembered exactly what was going through her mind as she took up the weapon in the tunnel.
She was thinking of Gareth.
Her fear for his life overshadowed everything else, including her own safety, not to mention the importance of her mission. She had all but forgotten about the lives of her people, her king, and even her father...
How could she let herself do something so irrational? If she had failed, she would have all but handed the weapon over to their enemy. And for what?
For the life of a near stranger? A man that she admired?
No...
It was more than that now...
But it could never be, and if she thought it could, then she was an even bigger fool still.
Rowena tried to push away her racing thoughts as she studied Zephyrah's tired, patient face, noticing the bloody scratches and bruises for the first time.
"Zephyrah, what happened to you?"
Zephyrah offered a weak smile as her hand brushed the wounds on her face. "Gremlins. They have been relentless. Their ability to follow a scent has made them a nuisance."
"Where is the Dissolver?"
"Resting... He will be glad to know you were awake." She said, "But you should not worry about us. You must rest."
Rowena's anxious eyes flicked to Gareth, and Zephyrah answered as if reading her mind, "He will be alright. He is weak... and tired from fighting off the Gremlins, but he will recover after some sleep."
"Are you sure?" Rowena asked uneasily, unable to stifle her concern.
She wanted to trust Zephyrah's expertise, but she had never seen him look so exhausted and beaten. There was a small part of her that was afraid to close her eyes again, for fear that when she awoke, he would no longer be there.
Zephyrah smiled, answering firmly. "I am sure. Please, get some sleep."
Rowena wanted to object, but already, her eyes had grown heavy. She tried to fight the exhaustion but soon, her eyes blinked closed and she drifted into a dreamless sleep.