Chapter 10 : The Escape
565 Words
The hall was collapsing, the walls of bones cracking like dry kindling, the air thick with dust and the scent of burnt sage. Veyla coughed, her lungs burning as she stumbled through the ruins, her bare feet slipping on crushed bones. The black stone in her pouch pulsed, a frantic rhythm like a dying heart, in time with the serpent scar on her shoulder—the mark that bound her to Dravot.
"This way!" Dravot growled, his black-veined arm wrapping around her waist as he pulled her behind a fallen shelf. His pale blue eyes were wild, his breath ragged. "The exit is blocked."
Veyla clutched her flint dagger, her heart pounding like a war drum. The Pierre d’Amour had shattered, its crimson light now flickering like a dying ember in the darkness. "We shouldn’t have touched it," she hissed, her voice raw.
"We had to," Dravot snarled, his grip on her tightening. "Now we run."
A crash echoed through the hall. Veyla whirled—the ceiling was caving in, bones and dust raining down like hail. "We’re trapped!"
"No." Dravot’s eyes narrowed. "We fight."
A shadow moved in the dust. Then another. And another.
Dravka stepped into the flickering torchlight, her silver hair disheveled, her black robes torn. But her smile was intact, cold as frost. "Ah," she purred, her voice cutting through the chaos. "The thieves try to escape."
Dravot snarled, his dagger raised. "Dravka."
"You broke my prize," she said, her eyes gleaming. "That was unwise."
"We freed it," Veyla spat, her dagger tight in her grip. "And now we’re leaving."
Dravka’s laugh was soft, mocking. "You’re not going anywhere."
The guards advanced, their spears gleaming in the torchlight. Veyla counted—eight, nine, ten. Too many.
"We can’t fight them all," she hissed.
"We don’t have to," Dravot growled. He tossed her a small bone—carved with runes. "Use this."
"What—?"
"The bones of the First People," he snarled. "They ward off spirits."
Veyla clutched the bone, feeling its pulse against her palm. The guards hesitated, their eyes flickering to the bone, then back to her.
Dravka’s smile faded. "Clever," she murmured. "But not clever enough."
She snapped her fingers.
The guards lunged.
Dravot moved, a blur of motion, his dagger flashing. The first guard collapsed, black blood pooling on the stone. The second stumbled, his throat slashed.
Veyla didn’t wait. She hurled the bone into the torchlight. It exploded in a burst of blue flame, the guards screaming as the fire licked their skin.
"Now!" Dravot growled.
They ran.
The hall trembled. The ceiling groaned. And then—
A hand grabbed Veyla’s ankle.
She fell, her knees slamming into the stone. Dravka loomed over her, her smile sharp as a blade. "Did you think you could escape me?"
Dravot roared, his dagger raised—
A spear slammed into his shoulder.
He staggered, black blood dripping from his lips. "Veyla—run—"
Dravka’s fingers dug into Veyla’s arm, her grip like iron. "Oh no, little thief," she purred. "You’re coming with me."
Veyla struggled, but Dravka’s grip was unyielding. "Let me go!"
"Never." Dravka’s smile widened. "You have something I want."
The guards dragged Dravot to his knees, his eyes locked onto Veyla’s. "I’ll find you," he growled, his voice raw with pain and promise.
Dravka laughed. "Oh, I hope so."
And the world went black.
- Writer
