Page 68 of A Door in the Dark

“Don’t celebrate yet,” she replied. “The drop is likely to be severe.”

All three of them crawled forward on hands and knees. Ren did her best to avoid touching the puddled condensation that had gathered at the bottom of the pipe. It didn’t behave like any normal liquid she’d ever seen. The less contact she could make, the better. She had no doubt that it was as toxic as the air around them.

The whispers finally faded as they rounded a final corner. The mouth of the pipe widened. There was a natural landing of stone, eight paces or so, then a drop.

“I told you,” Cora said, walking forward. She glanced over the edge. “Oh. Not too bad, actually. It’s just a short jump.”

Forest awaited them. The distant branches were bent, so that Cora looked like she was standing beneath the arch of some great cathedral. Cora and Theo descended first, turning back long enough to help Ren down. There were about fifty paces between them and the cover of the forest. They started across, keeping as low as they could, when Ren saw two figures emerge from the trees directly ahead of them, their crossbows already raised.

One was her torturer from the dead memories. The other was the thin man from the porch. Lev, she remembered. Both of them took aim at different targets. Theo and Cora were a few steps ahead of her. Neither one had slowed. Neither one had noticed that the hunters were in front of them, not behind. Ren had less than a breath to decide who she’d save.

Magic thundered from her fingertips.

38

The steps of the spell flowed perfectly into one another.

Barrier, dispersion, redirection.

Timmons wasn’t there to power the magic the way she had back in the archive room, but Ren’s adrenaline more than made up for her absence. Lev’s bolt caught in the air in front of Theo. Briefly frozen, its tail midswirl. The energy ran in a current around the three of them until she harnessed that energy for her own purposes. This was her slight modification to the spell: redirection.

The bolt hit Lev’s neck before he could even lower his weapon. She saw him fall, flopping like a fish. The older man was scrambling to fire again when Theo hit him with a well-aimed stunner. It slung him sideways into the nearest tree. They both heard the sickening smack. Ren’s heart was in her throat. “We got them. Come on.…”

But then she saw Cora. She was on her knees. The other bolt had punched through her chest. Ren dropped down just as Cora sagged sideways, barely catching her.

“Cora. We’re here. Stay with us.…”

Her eyes were wide and hazel and lifeless. The bolt had cut a path right through her heart. There was no pulse to find, no signs of life. Ren’s entire body shook as she set Cora gently down in the grass. Her chest was tight. It was hard to breathe. She reached out to close Cora’s eyes, and the girl’s body spasmed.

A half-stifled scream guttered out from Ren. It took a few seconds for the body to stop twitching. When it did, Theo leaned down to perform the ritual instead. The two of them looked at each other in a wordless exchange. He nodded a confirmation to the question she couldn’t bring herself to ask. There wasn’t enough time to bury a body—or to take Cora with them. Not if they wanted to live.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Theo said.

* * *

Night complicated their escape.

They didn’t dare risk a light cantrip as they descended through the hills. Out in this lifeless place, any lantern or fire would draw attention. The stars served as their only guide. Adrenaline would have been enough to keep them moving, but every now and again they heard extra incentive. The sharp baying of Della’s hound. If their hunters did not rest, neither could they.

Cora Marrin is dead. And I’m the one who let her die.

Ren tried to ignore that thought as they pressed on. Three times they crossed over creeks. Whenever they reached an embankment that was too steep, they’d head south—nestling deeper into the waistline of Watcher Mountain—hoping to always be moving in the direction of Kathor, no matter the obstacle. Della had claimed it was a four-day journey to the city. Ren had no idea if the woman had told the truth about that or not. She also knew they didn’t have to travel that entire distance. Not with the way candle at their disposal.

Morning dawned, a bright day that did not match how they felt. Ren had never been more exhausted in her life. Every muscle protested. Losing Cora was yet another added burden. There was also the colorless memory, rattling in the corner of her mind, of a cramped shed. Her missing fingers and all that blood. Those events had never actually happened, but Ren could not quite escape from the frightening possibilities of what might have occurred if that timeline had continued on its course. It was noon before they found a place that was tempting enough to stop for rest.

A small waterfall churned into a shallow pool that was so clear they could see the bottom. Ren thought that was what lured them in. Something that contained no possibility of danger. Theo unshouldered the pack and started working at the laces of his boots.

“We shouldn’t stop for long,” he said. “Wash up, eat, keep moving.”

Cora had stolen an entire loaf of bread from the table. Ren hadn’t noticed that during their escape, but now she whispered her thanks to their dead friend. It was a complicated feeling, though, as she unraveled all that had happened. Learning about the devorium led to the most disturbing question.

“Why didn’t she use it to save them? Timmons or Avy?”

Theo was taking off his shirt and pants to get in the pool for a wash.

“I think she confessed that to us.”

“Confessed what?”

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