Chapter 18There was a half-beat of stunned silence. Then Tristan and Elaysius both lunged at Owain with weapons drawn, and Braith, lurching from his hiding place as if dragged, screamed for me to run.
Whether I was driven by pragmatic consciousness of my options or mere terror, I don’t know—but run I did, out of the cave into the sunlight, and up the rocky hillside. It was steep enough that Braith, unbalanced by his bad arm, would find it difficult to follow. Below me I could hear snarls and shouts, the clash of metal, as Braith fought to follow his first order—freeing Owain from his bonds.
A broken-legged knight and a doll-sized fairy, neither of them particularly willing to harm Braith, could not have posed much resistance. It was moments only before I heard Owain’s voice, triumphant.
