Page 95 of The Source of Storms

“You’ve lost weight,” he observed, his tone dull and morose.

“Temple prison food wasn’t very good,” I half joked, and he half smiled.

Byrgir’s shirt hung just past my rear like a short shift. He fastened his coat over it and nodded approvingly, before tugging back on his heavy padded tunic and armor.

El pulled a scabbard from her belt and handed it to me with a smile. “I believe this is yours.”

My fingers met the familiar black wrapping of my sword’s grip. I took the scabbard in one hand and drew my blade. It sang as I slid it free. “You found it,” I said, amazed.

“Byrgir did,” El replied. “He picked it up and ran after you. Almost got himself killed in the process.”

Byrgir avoided both of our eyes, pretending to be engrossed in donning his armor.

“Can you run in that?” Crow asked me, surveying my motley outfit.

“Yes,” I said.

“Good. Then do it.” And Crow was off, loping through the woods. We heard the shouts of pursuing Paragon guards as we fell into step behind him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

We found our horses stashed in a thicket near a small creek. I wrapped my arms around Anam’s neck and squeezed tight, breathing in the warm, dusty, living scent of him. A brief reunion, and then we made our rapid preparations to flee. El dug an extra pair of pants from her saddlebag for me and I pulled them on –– the long ride without them would have had my bum chafed raw by the time we got home. I also pulled on a pair of her thick wool socks; my feet burned and stung with a thousand tiny cuts and thorns from my barefoot race through the forest.

We rode hard, keeping off the main road. I felt dazed and foggy. It had all happened so fast, and I was so, so bone-wearingly tired. I could hardly keep up, barely form coherent thoughts. I had taken each thing as it came, focusing solely on survival, on completing each task as I needed to. But relief gradually flooded me with each breath of forest air, each flash of dappled sunlight through the trees. The wind in my hair, the rhythm of Anam, my friend, running beneath me.

We broke into a large field, and my companions skirted it, moving between patches of trees at the edges. But I couldn’t resist the feeling of the sun on my skin. The open land beckoned me, the rolling grass luminous in the morning light. I guided Anam into the field and pushed him into a harder gallop. He took the invitation immediately, tossing his head and leaning into a charge. I stood in the stirrups and leaned forward,gripping with my feet in thick socks, my hair whipping back behind me.

An unintentional laugh tore from my throat, then another. Tears began to slide down my face, blown back across my cheeks and into my hair with the wind, but they were more from the emotion that rose in my chest than from the bite of the cold morning air. I let the reins drop from my grip and Anam pressed into a full sprint as I raised my arms out to my sides, gliding on makeshift wings. Tears flowed. I laughed again.

I caught a glimpse of my companions following me. First El breaking into the meadow, a bright ball of flame on her white steed, and Byrgir behind her, slower on his imposing black mare Eira. Crow stuck to the trees, shadowing us from safety. I thought I heard El and Byrgir laugh, but I could not be sure over the pounding of hooves.

Eventually, the trees closed around us and we came back into the cloaking shadow of the forest, slowing our ride.

Relief soon mixed with regret as I thought of Eilith. I didn’t ask if a rescue attempt had been made for her. Didn’t know if I could handle the guilt if they hadn’t tried. Yet Byrgir must have read my mind.

“There was another crew that went in after Eilith, you know,” he said, trotting up alongside me.

“To retrieve her from her cell? That place is a labyrinth to infiltrate,” I said.

“It was,” Crow added. “But I’ve had someone on the inside for weeks now. Brave young Ranger posing as an anchorite. She was meant to let the crew in and lead them to Eilith when we broke in the front door.”

“Did they get her?” I asked.

Crow was quiet for a long time. I felt a pulse of magic emanate from him, then another a moment later. I was detecting his messaging spells, although I could not decode theirmeanings. Then the air was still around us once more, and we rode in silence until Crow at last broke it.

“I’m sorry, Halja, they… they weren’t successful. Two members of the crew were killed, including my inside Ranger.” Crow spoke with his eyes lowered.

“Did they kill Eilith?” I asked as my chest began to ache and a lump formed in my throat.

“Last the escaping Rangers saw, she was alive.”

“They’ll kill her for this though. For me. Zisorah told me she would if I didn’t comply. Said if I made any attempt to escape, she’d make an example out of me and Eilith.”

Silence fell over the group, and we rode on.

We traveled late into the night, pausing only for quick, cold meals. The sun disappeared below the horizon, bathing the skyline in blood-red and sinking the forest and mountains into a lavender twilight that deepened into true night.

Still we rode. I began to nod off in the saddle, and by the early hours of the morning, my body ached with the protest of muscles left dormant for too long and suddenly resurrected. My knee was stiff and painful after my leap from the city wall. The horses dragged their feet. By the time we finally stopped for a rest, I nearly fell from my mount. I hadn’t ridden in months. My muscles had atrophied and my body had withered. I barely recognized myself beneath Byrgir’s large shirt.

---