On “three” they pulled together, but all that happened was Five yowled in pain.
“Stop!” Tarquin yelled at Ainya. “We’re going to pull his arms off. Stop!” She stopped pulling. “This isn’t going to work. We need to do something else.”
Tarquin nodded, then unsheathed his knife and made a new cut next to the one he’d already made in his arm. He hissed at the discomfort but ignored whatever sound Five made in response. He sheathed his knife and grabbed Five’s wrist again, imagining them both vanishing from the ruins and reappearing in the bailey.
They were instantly back out in the open. Five dropped to the ground, landing hard on his stomach and pulling Tarquin down with him. Tarquin’s healing injuries had a lot of bad things to tell him about that, but there was no time to deal with it now. He promised himself he could moan and whine as much as he liked once this was over, and crawled the short distance to Five to make sure he was all right.