Pirin sprinted down the hallway as fast as he could. Gray’s talons clicked on the stone; she was just behind him.

There was no time to check the map, but he made mental notes of where he had turned, and where he had gone straight, and where he had gone down. It’d be nice to have the Memory Chain precisely controllable in situations like this—he’d be able to review himself running away, and every turn would pass in a blink…

But he could fantasize about the future later. Right now, he had to get away. Then he could work on controlling his Bloodline.

The torches still shone behind him. They hadn’t gotten any further away, nor were they any closer.

But then, there were a few shouts. Something clanged, followed by some thuds. The light behind him faded away.

Myraden was drawing them off.

He increased his pace, trying to increase the gap between him and his pursuers. There were no more intersections up ahead, and, when he pulled out the map and examined it, he couldn’t make out any more up ahead for the next…mile, maybe.

“Come on, Gray!” he called. If there was truly a trap waiting for them up ahead, he’d rather trip it sooner than later—that way they could double back and make proper use of the way Myraden had cleared.

I’m coming! Gray replied. You know, this running straight into traps thing? It’s not very fun!

“I don’t like it either,” he told her. “But we’ve got a plan, at least.”

Not a very good one! What if we can’t back out of their trap?

“We don’t have a lot of options at the moment.”

They turned a corner, then sprinted through a small room crowded with boxes of packaged treasures. There was still only one other tunnel to run down. Pirin tucked his map back into his haversack. In one hand, he held his sword, and with the other, he kept the Whisper Hitch active—for what little light it gave.

Three turns later, he found the trap they expected. A wall of Saltspray warriors stood just around the corner, spanning the entire hallway. They had formed ranks two men thick, and were packed shoulder-to-shoulder. Pirin couldn’t slip between them.

The front rank carried spears with white salt crystal heads. They lowered their spears, and the sides of their line broke off, trying to encircle Pirin.

Pirin swatted two spearheads away, then hacked the tip off a fourth. He used a Winged Fist to push another pair back, but it didn’t have as much power as he wanted. He hadn’t had much time to charge it, and his channels were getting tired.

Not to mention that he was starting to run out of Essence.

Gray flapped her wings, creating a gust that made all the nearby Saltsprays stagger, then she pecked one with her beak, knocking him to the ground.

“Time to go, Gray!” Pirin called. He turned around. A single Saltspray had gotten behind them, and he had his salt knuckles bared and ready. Pirin tried to duck away, but the strike still caught him on the chest. The crystals tore through his tunic and ripped his flesh, but he turned his shoulder, and the fist glanced away instead of digging deep.

He staggered back, spinning with the motion. But he couldn’t let a second go to waste—the Saltsprays behind him were already approaching. They advanced on Gray with their spears, jabbing and thrusting.

Pirin needed more powerful strikes. He ripped his mask off and forced the Whisper Hitch to destabilize, then blasted a Shattered Palm into the Saltspray in their way. The man flew back along the hallway.

Pirin’s chest already stung physically. What was a little spiritual pain after that?

But now Gray couldn’t understand him. He didn’t try telling her to follow him. He just ran. She would understand. He sprinted as fast as he could, running back the way he could.

“After him!” one of the Saltsprays shouted. With a clamour, they all charged. The ranks in the back carried torches, and they were close enough that Pirin didn’t need to light his own way anymore.

He reached the small room with the crates before he heard another voice—a woman’s voice. “Don’t hurt the bird, either! It’s a Familiar! If it dies, then he dies!”

Lady Clase. Pirin barely recognized her voice over his own panting and pounding footsteps, but it just made his heart pound faster. At least they didn’t seem to know that his Reyad was only temporary.

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He had to maintain the illusion, then. “Come on, Gray! Just keep running!”

She chirped, but there was no understanding, of course.

There was also no way he could outrun a wizard like Lady Clase, with her enhanced body. His advantage would be agility, but that wasn’t an option in such tight corridors.

Still, he glanced over his shoulder. Now, at the front of the pack, was Lady Clase. Her beaver clung to her shoulder, and her hand glimmered with Essence. She thrust her arm forwards, blasting a bar of green Essence towards him. It surged, as if it was looking for something to gnaw on.

Pirin jumped to the side, dodging the Essence. His shoulder slammed into the wall, and the Essence blasted past. It smashed into the sandstone just ahead of Pirin, gnawing and eating away at the rock like it was acid.

It wouldn’t have killed him, but it would have hurt. Alot.

He continued on, but prepared another Shattered Palm. It would be the last one he got before the strain on his spirit was too much, so he’d better make it count. It was his most powerful technique by measure of raw strength. Maybe, if he could knock Lady Clase back and away…

Gray chirped out a warning before Pirin could try his plan. He whirled around. Another blast of Essence raced towards him, moving too fast to dodge.

He thrust his hand out, unleashing his last Shattered Palm. His Essence clashed with Lady Clase’s for a second, but he had hit right in the center of her technique. It drove a wedge through the center of her attack, scattering it into a wall of multicoloured sparks. Pirin shook out his arm, inhaling through clenched teeth.

Before he could turn away, Lady Clase leapt through the wall of Essence sparks, her arm outstretched. She swung her arm at Pirin, about to strike him with the back of her hand, but she had prepared the move from miles away, and Pirin had just enough time to duck.

Two flat blades of green Essence manifested on the back of her hand—almost like beaver teeth, if beavers had short swords for teeth. They raced over Pirin’s head with a crystalline tinkle, slicing a strand of his hair off.

She reached up with her other hand and gripped Pirin’s neck. She didn’t need a fortification technique to hoist him off the ground—as far as he could see, her enhanced body was enough.

“Impressive, boy,” Lady Clase spat. “A Spark deflecting Flare-grade Essence? But I don’t suppose you have any more tricks up your sleeve.”

Gray fluttered towards Lady Clase and pecked at her head. Clase, however, swung her arm with the Essence blades attached to it at Gray. The gnatsnapper backed away with a flap of her wings, keeping out of range.

Gray kept flapping—first, directed at Lady Clase, but the woman just widened her stance and weathered the gale. The wind blasted the rest of the Saltspray warriors back along the hallway.

Pirin used the distraction as best as he could. He reached into his haversack and ripped out the umberstone disruption rune—the rune from the collar.

As far as he knew, wizards’ enhanced bodies still drew on Essence passively, and Lady Clase had to have been cycling in order to maintain her manifested swords of Essence. If he could disrupt it just a little bit…

He pressed the umberstone rune against her bare wrist, and immediately, the rune lit up with light. It coughed out sparks, and Lady Clase’s blades of manifested Essence disappeared. Pirin slammed the pommel of his sword down on her wrist. Her grip broke.

He pushed the rune up her sleeve so it would stay in place a little longer, then turned and jumped back to his feet. “Gray! Come on!” As he ran, he muttered, “Now she knows what it feels like when your techniques randomly fail…”

He took a corner as fast as he could, slamming his shoulder into the wall to help him redirect his motion. A Saltspray threw a spear at him, and it grazed his calf. He forced himself not to limp.

He made it back to the room where he and Myraden had split apart. There was no torchlight coming from the way they had come…

The plan would have worked, if not for Lady Clase.

He made it two steps down the dark hallway before she caught up. Three bounding strides later, she had reached him. She grabbed his shoulder with renewed strength, then threw him hard against the wall beside him. There were no sharp corners to break his spine, but the impact still knocked the air out of him entirely.

He fell down onto his stomach, then held out his hand, ready to attempt a Whisper Hitch with Lady Clase. It probably wouldn’t work, but he wasn’t going to give up.

She swatted his hand down. Gray leapt at the woman with her talons outstretched, but Clase caught the gnatsnapper’s leg and slammed her into the roof. Gray fell limp to the ground, but just in case, the beaver pounced, pinning one of Gray’s wings with its equally enhanced legs.

Panting, Pirin tried the Whisper Hitch one more time. He’d been able to beat Nael…

But, according to Myraden, Nael had just been at the start of Flare, and he hadn’t had a completely enhanced body yet. Lady Clase was at the peak of her stage. She grabbed Pirin’s hand and pushed it away again.

Then, she manifested her Essence swords along the back of her hand again. She brought her elbow back, poised to drive the simmering, glowing blades into Pirin’s gut.

“Wait, my lady!” one of the Saltsprays called. “We don’t know how long it will be before we can bring the message to the Red Hand! If he dies before the Hand makes it to the surface…”

Pirin knew well enough that a gut wound wouldn’t kill him instantly, especially not when the blades of Essence would cauterize it. But that didn’t mean he wanted to try his luck.

He squirmed, trying to wriggle to the side, but Lady Clase caught the collar of his tunic and held him in place.

“I thought you made contact with the Hand only hours ago,” she snapped.

“And he said he was going deeper! Much deeper! It might be weeks before we find him again…”

Lady Clase shook her arm, dispelling her swords into sparks. “Apologies, your majesty,” she said. “You’ll have to wait for your execution.”

With a push, she thrust Pirin’s head back against the wall. His head smashed into the stone, and darkness fell immediately.