Chapter 3
1178 Words
Elara moved before she could think.
The dark hallway swallowed the little light from the training hall behind her. Her shoes slapped the stone floor. Her breath came fast, loud in her own ears. She did not know where she was running. She only knew she had to move.
A hand reached again, fingers brushing her wrist.
Elara jerked away and turned a corner. The corridor split into two. One path went down a flight of steps. The other led toward faint torchlight.
She chose the torchlight.
Her lungs burned. Her arm still ached from Romeo’s grip, but pain did not matter. Fear did.
Behind her, footsteps started. More than one. Fast. Enjoying the chase.
She heard a low laugh.
“Princess,” a voice whispered.
Elara pushed harder. The torchlight grew brighter. She burst into a wider passage along the outer wall. Narrow windows sat high above, showing a strip of gray morning sky.
A door appeared on her left. It was slightly open.
Elara slipped through it.
Inside was a storage room filled with training gear. Mats stacked in piles. Gloves hung from hooks. Wooden practice weapons lay in a bin.
Elara grabbed the first thing her hand found.
A short practice baton.
It was not sharp, but it could make someone stop.
She pressed her back to the wall beside the door and held the baton tight. Her heart pounded so hard she felt it in her throat.
Footsteps stopped outside.
Silence held for a second.
Then the door creaked wider.
A student stepped in, tall and lean, his face half shadowed. He smiled when he saw her.
“You’re fast,” he said.
Elara lifted the baton. “Step back.”
He raised both hands. “Relax. I’m not Romeo.”
Elara did not lower the baton. “Then why are you here?”
He tilted his head. “Because the locks flipped. That means the Hunt started early. People will try to score.”
“Score what?” Elara asked.
The boy’s smile widened. “Catching you.”
Elara felt cold anger rise. “Dante made me a prize.”
The boy shrugged. “He made you a test.”
Elara’s arm shook. “Leave.”
His eyes slid to the baton. “That won’t stop a group.”
Elara did not blink. “Try me.”
He laughed softly and stepped back toward the door. “Fine. I don’t like messy jobs.”
As he turned, he added, “Romeo will come. Cassian too. And others.”
He slipped out.
Elara waited until the sound of his steps faded. Then she moved fast, searching the room. Another door sat at the back. It led to a narrow stairwell.
She climbed down, one hand on the railing, baton in the other. The stairwell was cold and dim. Her breathing slowed, but her mind raced.
Why would Dante start the Hunt in the dark?
A thought hit her like ice.
He wanted to see what she did when no one was watching.
At the bottom, she found a corridor that smelled like damp stone. Pipes ran along the ceiling.
Elara moved quietly, listening.
She heard voices ahead.
Two men.
One laughing low.
One silent.
Romeo and Cassian.
Elara froze behind a pillar.
Romeo spoke first. “She ran like she was trained.”
Cassian’s voice was flat. “She’s scared.”
Romeo chuckled. “Scared girls still fall.”
Elara swallowed hard. She tightened her hold on the baton and looked around. A side passage opened to her right, darker, but open.
She slid into it, keeping her steps light.
The passage led to another stairwell. She climbed up two flights and pushed open a door that opened into a long hall lined with lockers.
Voices echoed nearby. Students were searching.
Elara moved along the wall, trying to stay in shadow.
A locker door slammed ahead.
Elara stopped.
A girl stepped out from behind the lockers. Her hair was tied tight. Her eyes were bright, like she loved trouble.
“You’re the one,” the girl said.
Elara raised the baton again. “Move.”
The girl smiled. “I don’t want to catch you. I want to watch you.”
Elara’s stomach turned. “Why?”
“Because the Bastion woke up when you arrived,” the girl said. “And Dante’s rule made everyone hungry.”
Elara’s voice went cold. “What rule?”
The girl lowered her voice. “Whoever wins you gets the ultimate prize.”
Elara clenched her jaw. “That’s a threat.”
The girl nodded. “It’s also a trap.”
Elara stared. “For who?”
“For anyone who shows their true face,” the girl said. “Dante wants to know who will cheat, who will harm, who will obey, and who will lead.”
A shout echoed down the hall.
“Over here!”
It was closer.
Elara turned to run, but the girl caught her sleeve, not hard, just enough to stop her.
“Listen,” the girl said fast. “There’s a service tunnel behind the last locker row. It leads to the courtyard. If you reach the courtyard before the bell, the Hunt resets.”
Elara hesitated. “Why help me?”
The girl released her. “Because Romeo thinks he owns this place.”
Another shout came, closer.
Elara ran.
She sprinted down the hall, found the last row, and shoved behind it. A narrow door waited there, half hidden.
She pushed it open and slipped into a tight tunnel. Dust filled the air. Her shoulders brushed the walls. She ran anyway.
Footsteps thundered behind her in the hall.
Someone yelled her name.
Elara kept going until she saw light ahead. She shoved open a grate and climbed out into the courtyard.
Cold morning air hit her face.
Students were already gathering outside, drawn by noise. Heads snapped toward her. Murmurs spread.
Elara staggered forward, chest heaving, baton still in her hand.
High above, on the balcony, Dante stood watching.
His eyes met hers.
Then Romeo stepped into the courtyard from the opposite side, his nose clean but his smile sharp.
Cassian followed, silent and steady.
Romeo lifted his hand, pointing at Elara like she was a target.
“Elara,” he called. “Come back inside.”
Elara tightened her grip.
The bell did not ring.
And Dante did not stop them.
Instead, Dante raised his hand and made a simple gesture.
The courtyard gates began to close.
Metal groaned as the gates moved. The space between the bars shrank, slow but certain.
Elara looked around. Students formed a loose circle. Some held phones. Some whispered like they were at a show. No one looked ready to help.
Cassian’s eyes stayed on her hands, on the baton, like he was measuring her.
Romeo spread his arms. “Nowhere to run,” he said.
Dante leaned on the balcony rail, calm as stone. His lips moved, two words Elara could not hear, but she felt them anyway.
Start again.
- Writer
