Page 3 of Taken By The Dark Three
She jolts, pressing back into the shadows. In the dim light, I catch the pale glint of her eyes.
“It’s alright.” I try to infuse calm into my tone. “I’m here to help.”
A tremor shudders through her slight frame. “Stay back,” she rasps. Her voice is high, pitched with a swirl of terror. “The elves—they’re hunting me.”
I set the lantern on the walkway, the flame turned low, then show my hands in a gesture of peace. “I’m not with them. I promise. I heard you might be in trouble.”
She blinks, possibly weighing whether to trust me. “Are... are you like me?”
My throat constricts. “Yes. In more ways than you know.” I check over my shoulder to ensure no one looms behind me. Then I kneel on the decrepit boards, bringing myself closer to her level. “We don’t have much time, Ai. The elves are searching these streets. If we stay here, they’ll find us.”
She swallows, eyes darting to the canal’s surface. “I can’t control my power. It flares up. I almost burned a house the other night. Now they want to lock me away... or worse.”
I reach out mentally, brushing just a whisper of reassurance over her mind. She startles but doesn’t recoil completely. “I can help you,” I say. “We can get out of Orthani—somewhere safer than Lowtown. But we have to leave now.”
A gust of wind rattles the walkway. I hear distant shouting, and my chest tightens. Over the rooftops, a faint orange glow hints at torches or magefire approaching from the main thoroughfare. A raid, perhaps. Exactly the kind of large-scale sweep Orthani loves to unleash whenever they suspect rebellious activity.
Ai’s eyes mirror my alarm. “They’re coming.”
I rise and offer her my hand. “Come on. We’ll go through the back alleys, avoid the main roads.”
She hesitates a second, then seizes my hand with trembling fingers. Her grip is so frail it tugs at my heart. No child—no one—deserves to live with this level of terror. I help her onto the walkway, steadying her as the rotted planks sway beneath us.
The flicker of torchlight glimmers ominously against the night sky. Shouts ring out: coarse orders from dark elf soldiers, the pounding of boots on cobblestone. Ai looks at me, panic etched across her features.
I set a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Stay behind me, keep low, and run when I tell you.”
She nods, hugging her scrawny arms to her chest.
We creep toward the far side of the mill, where a crumbling gate leads to a tight side lane. Each footstep feels like a thunderclap in this tense hush. My gaze darts around, searching for silhouettes or flickers of movement. The world contracts into a condensed swirl of moonglow and dread. Ai’s breathing stutters.
Suddenly, a male voice barks from the main street, “Spread out! She must be near!”
I grind my teeth in frustration. The city guard, or perhaps a specialized unit, is far too close. My mind replays the suspicion: that the Red Purna intended for me to be caught, or at least tested. This is too convenient, the timing too perfect. We’re cornered between the canal and a band of ruthless elves.
Ai’s hand grips the back of my shirt as she tries to keep up. I lead her deeper into the side lane, away from the shouts. A tangle of crates and debris blocks a direct path, forcing us to navigate around obstacles. Our pace quickens, fear fueling every step. The torque of adrenaline heightens my senses—my psionic awareness prickles the air, searching for minds that might be scanning for us.
A sharper cry echoes from behind. I glimpse the bounce of torchlight. Dark shadows flit across walls. Ai looks at me with wide, terror-stricken eyes. My instincts scream at me to cloak us in illusions, but conjuring that kind of transformative magic right now could act like a beacon to any psionic hound they might have with them.
Another voice slices the air, deeper and more commanding, “We know you’re here, purna. Surrender and we’ll let the child live.”
Ai quivers violently. I pull her around the corner, pressing our bodies flat against the rough stone. We can’t stay hidden indefinitely. These elves are methodical—they’ll comb every alley soon enough.
A scraping shuffle behind me signals movement. My heart pounds in my throat. I risk a glance over my shoulder. A soldier steps into the lane, tall and wiry, chaotic energy flickering around the blade in his hand. He sweeps his gaze across the shadows, scanning for motion.
I hold Ai’s arm, urging her to remain still. My breath sits lodged in my chest. One step closer and we’ll be forced to reveal ourselves. We’re pinned here, like cornered animals.
Inside my mind, a single realization surfaces: the Red Purna definitely set this up. They knew Ai’s presence would draw the city guard. They expected me to pull her out anyway—and maybe they assumed I’d prove our superiority in the process. I want to spit curses. Instead, I steel myself.
Ai whimpers under her breath. I press my lips to her temple, whispering, “Don’t make a sound.”
My free hand slowly lifts, shaping a small distortion in the air—just enough to project a fleeting hum that skitters against the opposite wall. The soldier’s ears perk, and he whips around, chasing the phantom noise. I exhale shakily. Thank the Source for illusions, even if small ones.
We creep forward while he’s distracted, inching along the wall. The glow of torches arcs over the rooftops. Another barked order rings out, “Form a perimeter at the cross-street! Don’t let them slip away.”
My stomach twists. They’re systematically boxing us in. Ai gazes at me in horror, lips trembling. The time for subtlety might be gone.
Up ahead, the lane widens into a neglected courtyard with a single exit—blocked by a duo of dark elves, both armed. They haven’t seen us yet, but it’s only a matter of seconds. I scan for an alternative route. None. The walls are too high for Ai to climb easily, and we’re too far from the canal to double back without crossing into the path of more soldiers.
