Run

Ella peeled one eye open, tossing and turning in the bed. The light from the moon drifted through the window behind her, just bright enough to make out the shape of Faenir's snout sticking out past the end of the bed. The slow draw and release of the Wolfpine's breaths signalled that he was not having as much trouble sleeping as she was.

It was all the crying. The crying in of itself wasn't the problem; it was the stinging eyes, the sore throat, and the pounding headache that came with tears. Whichever one of the gods decided such sorrow wasn't enough pain to bear on its own was a god Ella would like to have a few words with.

She let out a soft sigh as she rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling which was ornately decorated with square inlays of wood-carved floral patterns. It seemed a waste to have such beautiful craftsmanship displayed on the ceiling of a room that was designed solely for sleeping. She shook her head at the notion, running her fingers through her sleep-deprivation tousled hair. As she lay awake, it felt like she could hear even the slightest of sounds that would not usually even register: the nightsong of the crickets who made revelry outside, the rushing of the wind as it swept over the walls of the keep, the rapid beating of her heart in her chest.

A creaking floorboard gave Ella a jolt, and she shot upright in the bed. Down by her feet, Faenir was now awake, his head tilted to the side as he stared at the door.

"What is it, Faenir?"

The hackles on the back of the wolfpine's neck stood on end and a low rumble began to resonate from his chest, starting off quiet but building until it sounded more like a growl.

Ella pulled the sheets off her as quietly as she could. She wore nothing but the nightdress one of the chambermaids had left out for her. Her clothes lay folded atop the desk on the other side of the room, but she left them there for now.

"Faenir," she whispered again, her feet touching the floor. "What is it, boy?"

A small rattle came from the door, as though someone had placed their hands on the handle on the other side but had yet to turn it.

Ella held her breath, trying desperately to calm herself. Her eyes fell on a long brass candlestick that sat beside her folded clothes on the desk. She grabbed it in both hands, then moved towards the door as quietly as she could, walking with her shoulder pressed against the wall.

Faenir had raised himself to his feet, his head held low, pointed at the door, his lips drawn back in a snarl.

Another rattle, and the door burst open. Faenir lunged. Ella couldn't see who came through first, but they hit the ground fast, the sound of ripping flesh making her retch.

The second man through the door shouted something unintelligible as he charged at Faenir. Ella caught a glint of steel in the moonlight as the man raised his sword. Without thinking, she leapt forward, a surge of panic blended with fury pulsing through her veins. A deep thrum vibrated through her arm as the candlestick connected with the man's skull. He went limp, crashing to the floor like a stone.

Ella's stomach lurched. She had just killed someone. Not an Urak, but a man. He was dead, she was sure of it.

An explosion of stars flitted across Ella's eyes as something hit her in the side of the head, knocking her to the ground, causing her fingers to lose their grasp on the candlestick.

"Get on your feet, you little wretch," a man's voice growled, fingers wrapping through Ella's hair. "He said he wanted you alive, he didn't say I couldn't—" The man wailed, and his fingers let go of Ella's hair. Screaming, he swung his arms at Faenir as the wolfpine clamped his jaws around the man's leg.

Catching a glimmer of steel on the floor beside her, Ella snatched up a sword that had belonged to one of the dead men and dragged herself to her feet. She swung the blade through the air, a vibration running through her arms as it sliced into the man's neck and connected with bone. A knot twisting in her stomach, Ella pulled the blade free, and the man dropped to the floor, blood spurting from the wound.

Faenir stood over the three attackers, snarling, as though warning their ghosts not to try a second time.

For a moment, Ella's fingers loosened on the hilt of the sword, but she forced her grip tighter, the edge of the brass cutting into her hand.

"Come on," she said to Faenir through rasped breaths. "We need to find Tanner."

The sound of Ella's pounding footsteps echoed down the white stone hallway. Faenir loped ahead, his claws clicking off the floor, a trail of blood dripping from his mouth as he ran. It was only then, with a shiver running down her spine, that Ella realised what a sight she must have been. Running through the hallways of the keep, a wolfpine by her side, a sword in her hand, and her nightdress blotched with crimson stains. She prayed to The Maiden that she would not run into any guards.

Ella thought she remembered how to get to Tanner's office, but Faenir had taken off ahead of her, never hesitating at any turns. He knew where she needed to go. She just hoped that Tanner was the kind of man she thought he was: a man like her father, who stayed up late when he had things to think upon. Because if he had already gone to his chambers, she would never find him.

When she reached the doors to Tanner's office, Ella didn't stand on ceremony – she burst straight through. Tanner was sitting behind his desk, scribbling something on a piece of paper.

"Ella?" Tanner pushed his chair back, slipped the piece of paper into his pocket, and got to his feet, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the sight of her. "What in the gods has happened? Are you all right?"

"It's not my blood," Ella said, looking down at the marks on her dress and the half-dry blood that stained the surface of the sword.

"Come with me." Tanner lead Ella and Faenir through a labyrinth of corridors and stairwells, moving as quickly as they could. To Ella, each corridor they passed through looked almost identical to the one before it. White walls, heavy oak doors, red carpets, tapestries. With her lungs struggling to draw in full breaths and her blood trembling through her veins, the corridors all blurred together.

As she passed a particularly large window, Ella could see thousands of flickering flames marching away from the city in a long column, their orange light carving a path through the darkness.

"What's that?" she asked, coming to a dead stop.

"Ella, we need to keep moving."

Ella didn't look at Tanner, but she could hear the irritation in his voice.

"It's the Fourth Army," Tanner said once he realised Ella wasn't going to move. "They head for Fort Harken. The Grand Consul assigned Farda to lead their mages. At least that's him gone. Now, come on."

Ella's gaze lingered on the column of marching torches as Tanner tugged at her arm, pulling her down the corridor. She wasn't sure why, but she felt a sadness at the idea of Farda being gone. The man was the most arrogant person she had ever met, and he was an imperial mage. Deep down she knew it was a good thing that he was gone, but a small part of her hoped it wouldn't be the last time she would see him.

The corridors of the keep seemed to go on forever. With each turn came another long hallway, at the end of which was another long hallway. Ella cast her gaze over her shoulder every now and again to see if they were being followed, but she never saw anything. After what felt like an eternity, Tanner came to a halt before a plain wooden door, tapping his knuckles against it.

"Yana?" he whispered, looking back down the corridor before saying the name again. "Yana?"

Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door, and then it creaked open just a crack, revealing a woman who had seen no more than thirty summers, with hair as black as coal and eyes to match.

"High Captain Fjorn?" The woman rubbed sleep from her eyes, seeming as though she weren't entirely sure whether she was dreaming or not. "Is everything all right? What can I do for you?"

"Yana, I need you to take this woman to Farwen."

"Tanner," she said, opening the door another crack and dropping all formality. "We cannot use that name here." The woman's eyes narrowed as she spotted Ella standing beside Faenir. Then they flickered between Ella and Tanner. She opened the door a bit further. "What have you done?"

"Yana, focus. I need you to take Ella to Farwen, and I need you to do it now."

Yana and Tanner held each other's gaze for a long moment. Then Yana took in a deep breath, biting the corner of her lip. As she exhaled, she nodded. "Give me a moment."

Yana went to close the door, but Tanner caught it with his open hand. "Yana, now."

Yana glared at Tanner, her eyes widening. "She's covered in blood, Tanner. Give me a damn moment."

Not waiting for Tanner's answer, Yana disappeared into the room, returning a few moments later with a bag on her back and some clothes in her hands.

"Put these on," she said to Ella, thrusting the clothes into her arms.

"What, here?"

"You can kill a man, but you're worried about your modesty? Put them on and be quick about it."

Ella looked to Tanner for support, but the man simply looked away. Sighing, she snatched the clothes from Yana and pulled them on as quickly as he could.

"What about you?" Yana said, turning to Tanner.

Ella could see genuine concern in the woman's eyes as she studied Tanner. She looked at him the way Rhett had looked at Ella – as though it was her and only her who made the sun rise each morning. Tears stung the corner of Ella's eyes, and she felt a pang in her heart as she remembered Rhett, knowing she would never see that face again.

"I'll be all right," Tanner said, a weak smile touching the corner of his mouth. "There is something I must do first. You two go now. And, Yana, when you bring her to Farwen, I think it's best you stay with them."

Yana went to argue, but Tanner just shook his head. "Go." Before either Yana or Ella could reply, Tanner had turned around and strode back down the hallway.

A shiver ran down the back of Ella's neck as Yana turned to her, eyes narrowed like a hawk's. The woman looked her over from head to toe, her jaw tight and her tongue twisting in her mouth. Then, calmly, she leaned in close, her nose only inches from Ella's, and whispered. "If that man is harmed because of you, I will kill you myself. Do you understand?"

"I didn—"

"Do you understand?"

Ella nodded.

"All right then, let's go." Yana's eyes fell to Faenir once more, and Ella could have sworn she saw the woman snarl at the wolfpine before flitting off down the hallway and gesturing for Ella to follow.

An uncountable number of long corridors and spiral stairwells later, Ella found herself staring at the back of Yana's head. A tall bookcase covered the wall in front of her, at the end of a dimly lit corridor. It was a dead end. A knot of fear twisted in Ella's chest, and the hairs on her arms stood on end. Where had the woman taken her?

Ella reached down, resting her hand on the back of Faenir's neck. The wolfpine pressed closer to her, his eyes fixed on Yana, his lip drawing back as a snarl formed in his throat.

The woman's head shot around. "Can you please tell that damn wolfpine to shut up?"

To Ella's surprise, Faenir stopped snarling, instead giving a slight whimper of apology.

Yana stepped closer to the bookcase, reached her hand down to a thick red book on the bottom shelf, then tilted it forward. The sharp click of a latch echoed through the hallway, followed by a low creaking noise as the bookcase slid backward, revealing a passage hidden behind it.

"Come on," Yana said, waving Ella forward, pushing the bookcase open a little more. "Stop gawking at me and come on, we don't have time."

Ella stumbled down the dark passage after Yana, her hands running against the walls, desperately trying to find some sense of bearing. She had never been scared of the dark, not in the way the other children had been growing up, but this passage was completely devoid of light. It was as close to absolute darkness as Ella thought she had ever seen; it felt endless.

"Come on, keep up," Yana whispered ahead of her. "It's not much further now."

Ella couldn't be sure, but it felt as though the passage began to slope downwards. It was the strangest sensation. Her eyes saw nothing but black, and her feet told her she was walking in a straight line, but she could feel the change in orientation. The further they walked, the more drastic the slope became, until she was worried she might tumble forwards at the slightest misstep. It was more than a little disconcerting.

After what Ella gauged was about twenty minutes of walking, the passage began to level out once more.

"We're here. You go first."

Ella couldn't see the woman, but she felt Yana's hand rest on her shoulder, gently willing her forward.

"What do you—" Ella stopped, her question answered as her extended hands felt the cool touch of an iron rung. She reached her left hand up a bit further, feeling another rung. It was a ladder.

"Climb to the top," Yana whispered. "Once you're there, just push up with your arm. It's only a wooden hatch, it should come open without much effort."

"What about Faenir?"

Yana let out a sigh of frustration. "Right, I'll go first. I'll get help, and we'll throw down a rope."

"All right," Ella said with a nod. The nod was more force of habit than anything else. She knew Yana couldn't see her.

"Why is it never easy?" Yana muttered to herself as she pushed past Ella, her hands eliciting a clang from the iron rungs as she pulled herself up towards the top. Ella could tell Yana had reached the hatch at the top when a sliver of moonlight pierced through the dark. As Yana pushed the hatch open fully, moonlight poured down into the tunnel, bathing every stone in its silvery light, revealing a black sky dotted with shimmering stars.

"I'll be back," Yana called down, pulling herself out over the top of the hatch before disappearing from view entirely.

Suddenly, Ella felt completely exposed. She was now at the bottom of a ladder in a dark passageway with nowhere to go if somebody found her. She couldn't run back towards the keep, and she couldn't climb up the ladder and leave Faenir there on his own.

The wolfpine let out a low whimper as he pushed his side up against Ella's hip. With all Faenir's strength and ferocity, it was easy for Ella to forget that sometimes he got scared as well. "It's all right," she said, running her hand through the prickly fur on Faenir's back. "Yana will be back in a moment, and we'll lift you out of here. Don't worry."

As though he understood her, Faenir's whimpering stopped, but his side remained pressed against Ella's hip.

A few minutes passed before something hard hit Ella in the shoulder and she yelped, nearly jumping out of her skin.

"Shh," Yana called down from the top of the ladder. "Will you keep quiet? Put the wolfpine's legs into the loops."

Ella reached out for the length of rope that had struck her in the shoulder. Two elaborate pairs of loops were knotted together, each pair bridged by a length of cord, a third length of cord then connected the two pairs. A length of rope from each loop fed back up to Yana. It was incredibly intricate knotwork, and Ella couldn't help but be impressed not only by the knots themselves but also by the speed at which Yana had put the harness together.

It was difficult to see in the sparse moonlight that drifted down from above, but Ella quickly went about slotting each of Faenir's front legs through one of the loops, checking that the bridging cord held tight against his chest. Wiping the slowly forming sweat from her brow, she then slid Faenir's hind legs through the second pair of loops, giving a firm tug on the length of cord that now ran across his belly from his front to his hind legs.

Faenir let out a low whimper as Ella tugged on the chord, nuzzling his snout into her cheek.

"It's all right, boy," she said, running her hand through his fur, casting a glance back down the passageway they had come from – not that she would have seen anything anyway.

"It's on," Ella called up, still holding her voice to a whisper. She could feel her heart thumping as she stood there, one hand on the back of Faenir's neck, waiting for a response.

"You're going to need to climb the ladder as we hoist him up. Try to keep him calm. If he struggles too much, we mightn't be able to hold him."

Ella let out a deep sigh, resting her hand on an iron ladder rung. "It's all right," she said, turning to Faenir, who let out another low whimper. "Just a few minutes and you're going to be out of here."

With Ella's words, the whimpering stopped. Though Ella's thought remained: how in the gods was Yana going to be able to hoist Faenir's weight up to the open hatch?

"I'm coming up," Ella called out. It only took a moment before the ropes that fed upwards tightened, pulling close around Faenir's shoulders and hind legs.

As Faenir was lifted up the short shaft one tug at a time, Ella stayed with him, slowly moving up the ladder, rung after rung. Once or twice, he let out a whine, but a hushed whisper from Ella settled him down. It was only a few minutes before they reached the top of the shaft and Faenir gripped the edge with his front paws, heaving himself up and over.

Ella stumbled, dropping to her knees as she pulled herself out through the hatch. Her brow was slicked with sweat, and her blood rushed through her veins in fierce pumps. She now knelt at the side of a broad cobbled street, dimly lit by the moon's light. Beside her, Yana was pulling the ropes free from a slightly dazed Faenir.

"Take my hand."

Slightly panicked at the unexpected voice, Ella fell backwards, catching herself with the palms of her hands. Before her stood a tall woman, three long scars running from her jaw down into the folds of her dark mantle, her white-streaked auburn hair tied back. But it was the way her ears tapered into a point that stood out to Ella. The woman was an elf.

"Well?"

Ella hadn't realised that she was so startled she hadn't reached for the elf's hand. Skittishly, she reached up and let the elf pull her to her feet. An elf. In the streets of Berona of all places?"My name is Farwen." The elf's eyes looked as cold as Farda's, and they, too, held a deep sadness. "Come, we need to leave this city. Tonight."