The beast was pounding towards them at full tilt through the trees.

“Run!” yelled Sagar. He snatched the rope from Cid and swung himself up onto the third cochobo, then motioned for Nuthea to join him and pulled her up behind him.

“Quick, get on!” the old man called to Elrann, and she jumped up to join him on his cochobo as well.

That left one more. Trembling, Ryn scrambled up onto the cochobo that Vish was on, in front of him, grabbed the reins and lashed them.

“Yah!”

The cochobo sprang forwards

An arrow thunked into a tree nearby.

Not good.

Nuthea and Sagar’s cochobo in front of them, then Cid and Elrann’s. They wove their way in and out of the trees as they galloped down the wooded slope. More arrows whistled past them, hitting trees or landing uselessly in the grass. The dog-monster roared.

“Stop!” shouted a soldier. Ryn hadn’t even seen how many were chasing them. The voice was much too close for his liking. “Stop in the name of the Emperor! Stop, you rebel scum!”

“Pops, slow down a bit!” yelled Elrann. “I can’t get a clear shot! Ryn, swap places with us!”

She’s mad, thought Ryn. But he kicked his ankles into the heaving sides of his cochobo all the same and it cawed frantically and found yet more speed.

He whipped his head round as they bolted past their comrades.

Cid and Elrann kept pace with them, but now from the back of the line.

“What’s going on back there, pup?!” Sagar and Nuthea were just in front of Ryn now.

“Elrann’s going to—””

Blam!

There was a high-pitched caaaaaw followed by a human shout .

“Son of a submariner!” Elrann swore.

“Sounds like you got one to me!”

“Yeah, but I was aiming for the dog! Aaargh!”

“Raaawrrr!”

“What happened?”

“We’re alright!” yelled Elrann from behind them. “We’re alright!”

“The beast nearly got them,” said Vish behind Ryn. “He took some of their cochobo’s tail feathers, but they are still intact.” The Shadowfinger’s voice dropped to a low growl. “You cannot outrun them forever. The beast is your match in speed, and more than your match in strength. You need someone in your party who can employ ranged attacks more accurately.”

“Well, what do you suggest?!” Ryn said to him. It was hard to concentrate on talking and steering the cochobo at the same time, not to mention avoiding falling off as he bounced up and down on its back in time with its frantic gallop.

“Me, you fool. Loose these bonds and I will dispatch the mutt for you.”

“The bounty hunter says he can take care of the monster!” Ryn called desperately to Sagar and Nuthea. “He wants me to untie him!”

“Don’t do it, pup!” Sagar shouted back. “He’ll kill you and hand us all over to the Imperials!”

Elrann screamed again. “Poodoo! It nearly got me that time! Can’t this bird go any faster, pops?!”

They had trusted Vish this far. Ryn made his decision. “How do you suggest I untie you,” he said to Vish, “while we’re running for our lives?”

“Take out my sword,” said Vish over the noise of the cochobos’ gallops and the thundering footfall of the beast behind them. “Which I notice you stole from me, by the way..”

It was tricky while bouncing up and down on the cochobo, but Ryn took his right hand off the reins, kept his eyes forward so he could still see where he was going, and reached down for the hilt of the sword that hung at his side.

“Woah!”

The cochobo jumped to clear a fallen tree and Ryn wobbled on its back and nearly fell off. He righted himself and regained his balance, still clasping the hilt with one hand and the reins with the other.

He slid the black sword from its sheath ,. He felt Vish lean back on the cochobo, and lent forward a little himself, then twisted his arm behind his back so that he held it there blade-up.

“What are you doing, pup?!” yelled Sagar. “What’s happening back there?”

Ryn didn’t reply. He just concentrated on staying on the cochobo and steering it through the trees while he held the sword.

He felt a shuffling behind him, accompanied by a quick repetitive noise like someone panting through their nose. The snapping of rope.

“Pup, you had best not be freeing that scumsucker!” shouted Sagar. “If he doesn’t kill you, I will!”

The sword was snatched from Ryn’s hand.

Despite himself, Ryn closed his eyes just for a moment, wincing. If he had misjudged the bounty hunter, he was about to die.

He felt the bounty hunter reach forwards.

“I will be taking this back now,” said Vish as he took the sheath for his sword and wrenched it from Ryn’s belt. Ryn nearly came off the cochobo, but he had two hands back on the reins now. The cochobo slowed a little, thinking he was trying to halt it, but Ryn lashed the reins and kicked its sides and it sprang forwards again.

“Yah!”

“Caw!”

—If the bounty hunter was going to kill Ryn surely he would have done it now. But Ryn could barely spare that another moment’s thought—the trees were too close together here; he needed to concentrate on steering.

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He felt the bounty hunter shift where he sat behind him.

The cochobo wobbled as Vish moved violently all of a sudden.

“Agggghhhhh!” a man’s voice cried from further behind.

“No, get the dog, bountyhunter, get the dog!” shouted Elrann.

“This will be easier if I eliminate some of the men first,” called Vish. His voice was calm and clinical, even amidst the chaos of the chase.

“What in all the forty-five hells is going on back there?!” shouted Sagar.

“I don’t know!” shouted Ryn. “I’ve got to look forwards to steer!”

“He just threw something at one of the soldiers pursuing us!” Elrann called. “Something sharp! It hit him in his visor!”

“Quiet,” said Vish. “I am concentrating.”

Another jolt, followed by a dull thwack.

“Damn it; missed,” said Vish. “Can’t you steer straight, boy?”

“I’m doing my best!” said Ryn. “The trees are dense here!”

Another jolt; a scream.

“You got another one!” Elrann called.

“Yes, I can see that, girl,” said Vish. “That’s the nearest ones taken care of. Now for Ozan and his beast.”

Another jolt; followed by a clang.

The beast roared, and there was rage in its roar.

“Godsdamnit,” said Vish, “missed again. Hit its armour. I’m out of ammunition. I only brought three stars with me on my hunt. Do you have anything else for me to throw at it, boy?”

“What?!” exclaimed Ryn. What sort of question was that? “No!”

The bounty hunter sighed behind Ryn, audibly even over the noise of the chase. “Useless. Never mind.”

The cochobo lurched as Vish moved.

“What are you doing?” Ryn said.

Another jolt, the most violent yet.

“Holy poodoo!” yelled Elrann.

The beast roared, and then its roar cracked and became a whine, a horrible high-pitched squeal that didn’t sound like any dog that Ryn had ever heard.

“You stupid sleemo traitor!” yelled a new voice, full of fury and bile. “Come here and fight me like a man!”

“What happened?!” Ryn yelled.

“He threw his sword at it!” said Elrann. “It stuck in right between its eyes!”

“Yes, but Ozan is still chasing us,” said Vish.

Ryn risked another look back round over his shoulder, but then his neck spasmed had to twist back round again.

Just before he did, he got a glimpse of the scene behind: The beast and its black-clothed rider were still pursuing them, but now the hilt of Vish’s sword protruded from between the huge eyes in the middle of its pug face.

“The poison will slow it down eventually, but that will take too long,” said Vish. He sighed again. “I’ll have to finish them off up close.”

Ryn’s cochobo wobbled as Vish shifted his weight again.

“What are you doing now?” said Ryn.

“Be quiet, boy. I’m working.”

It put a band of pain round his neck, but Ryn forced himself to look round again.

Vish was standing up on the back of the cochobo as it galloped along, arms held out to either side for balance. He bent his legs.

“No!” yelled Ryn.

Vish jumped, and the cochobo shook from the force of his departure and cawed.

The bounty hunter soared through the air, somersaulted multiple times, and landed feet-first on top of the dog.

Then Ryn had to twist his neck round again to look where he was going.

Grunts and cries from behind.

“What’s going on?!” Ryn called.

“He’s fighting with the rider!” shouted Elrann. “He’s—”

Someone screamed.

“He killed the rider with his own sword and threw him off! Woah, bountyhunterman, what the hell are you doing now?!”

The beast squealed again.

One more excruciating look round, and Ryn saw Vish climbed forwards on the beast’s head, having just pulled his sword out of it, which he raised high.

Ryn flinched.

The beast howled.

When Ryn opened his eyes, the beast was losing its footing, stumbling forwards, purple blood spraying in a shower from its face. It went over on its side and skidded along the ground before colliding with a tree, making a tremendous crunch.

Vish was in the air again, descending rapidly back towards Ryn’s cochobo.

“Look where you’re going, boy!” the bounty called as he landed, and the cochobo shook.

Ryn lookedback round just in time to see—

Whack!

He went head over heels over the cochobo and smacked into something before falling to the ground.

His head rang and new pain bloomed in his back.

The cochobo lay on the ground panting at the foot of the tree it had just crashed into.

“Stupid bird…” Ryn mumbled.

“Ready yourself, boy,” said Vish.

Ryn looked up. The dog-beast-thing was still down, about twenty paces back, whining quietly in a purple-bloody heap. But six remaining black-armoured soldiers were slowly advancing towards them on cochobos across the forest floor cochobo.

“I don’t have anything to fight with!” said Ryn. He tried to summon some fire to his palm, but none would come. He must be too exhausted.

“Stay close to me,” said Vish quietly. “Where are your friends?”

“They’ll come back for us once they realise we’re not with them anymore,” said Ryn. I hope. Mum. Dad. Cleasor. Nuthea?

The soldiers were close now, about ten paces away. Six on one, thought Ryn. Can Vish take them? Surely. After all, he had just single-handedly killed two other soldiers, an enormous dog-monster and its rider. On the other hand, there had only been four of Ryn and his friends, and Vish hadn’t won against them.

“Shadowfinger Vish!” called one of the helmeted soldiers from his mount. Ryn recognised the voice. The thin one from Nont. Wedge. “What are you doing running with these rebels? You know the penalty for desertion!”

“They captured me while I was hunting them,” said Vish. “Now that you’re here, I can help you bring them in.”

What?

Vish stepped to the side of Ryn and slipped an arm around his neck. With his hand he raised his black blade so that it was level with Ryn’s throat, ready to be drawn across it.

“What are you doing?!” Ryn yelled, the swordpoint glinting somewhere under his chin.

“Be quiet, or I’ll slit your throat here and now!” Vish yelled. Then he dropped his voice and spoke so that only Ryn could hear. “Play along, boy..”

“Why did you kill Pontus, Vespin, Ozan and his mount?” said Wedge.

“I needed them to think that I had defected, didn’t I?” Vish replied. If anything, he sounded irritated by the question—not like he was trying very hard to deceive the soldiers at all. “I was waiting for an opportune moment, wasn’t I? And Ozan has always been an untalented pest. I wasn’t about to have him claim the reward for my hard work. Look, have you got anything to this vagrant up with?”

“What of the others from his party?” said a soldier with a deeper voice, whom Ryn remembered as ‘Biggs’, as he drew up on his cochobo. He didn’t sound fully convinced.

“You should send your men to keep chasing them. They are tired and depleted; they have no energy left for casting their magics. Also, they are inept at riding.” Does he mean that? “You will catch them too before long.”

Biggs motioned to two of the other mounted soldiers. “Vance, Gill, continue the pursuit. Remember: dead or alive are both fine.”

“Yessir!” Two of the soldiers rode off on their cochobos.

That was clever. He got rid of two of them. Assuming he’s not actually betraying us...

“Have you got anything to tie this one up or not?” Vish said.

“No,” said Biggs.

“A good beating should subdue him well enough, then,” said Vish. “I will hold him still while we have some fun.”

“Alright then...” said Biggs. He dismounted, and the other soldiers followed suit. Vish shifted his posture so that he had both arms around Ryn and gripped tight. Then he whispered in Ryn’s ear: “I hope you know how to handle a sword, boy.” He raised his voice again.“I will hold him nice and still for you,” he said as Wedge approached them.

Wedge stood before Ryn and pulled back his fist for a punch.

Ryn grimaced. Is he going to do something or not?

Vish shoved Ryn forwards into Wedge.

Ryn crashed into him and the two of them went down in a tangle. He managed to roll off the soldier and scramble to his feet, readying himself for Wedge’s reaction, but before the soldier could do anything Vish was on him, thrusting his blade into the gap between Wedge’s helmet and breastplate.

Wedge’s scream made Ryn’s guts tremble.

The Shadowfinger slid his blade out of Wedge’s neck and turned it round to hand it by the hilt to Ryn. “Here, take this.” The black blade now wept deep red.

“Snap out of it, boy,” said Vish.

The other soldiers were shouting. “Traitor! Blowtard! Dissenter!”

The Shadowfinger ducked under the blade of one of the soldiers. He took the soldier’s legs out from underneath him with a vicious sweeping kick, then picked up the soldier’s blade when he dropped it, and slammed it into him.

Another soldier roared hatred as he ran at Ryn.

Ryn brought his sword up to defend himself on reflex and the soldier’s blade clanged off it.

Both of their eyes widened with surprise. Ryn was as shocked as the soldier was that he had successfully defended himself.

Ryn tried a counterblow; the soldier parried it away away with ease…

…then stabbed Ryn through the chest.

The shock of a sword blade sliding through his flesh.

Mum. Dad. Cleasor. Nuthea?

Ryn blacked out.