Perhaps they were trying to take a shortcut… did it matter? The longer this chase went on, the more people they’d have after them.

They needed to lose them… and fast.

If it weren’t for Bvorn, they could’ve done so already, but he was their best shot at finding Victor… there had to be another way!

He couldn’t outrun them. Not while carrying Bvorn. They had to get off the main streets.

He ducked into an alleyway, running as fast as his legs could carry him with Vadik right by his side.

The alleyway split off in different directions, connecting to other alleys and narrow paths. Buildings rose up all around them, blocking them from sight.

Hopefully, some of their pursuers would take the wrong turns… with any luck the guards would end up chasing The Shadowcloaks instead.

If it came to the worst, the narrow pathways would help keep them from being completely swarmed under.

They ran at full speed a while longer and then slowed down a bit. Now it was time to play it safe. They’d lost sight of both the guards and The Shadowcloaks. The last thing they needed to do right now was to blindly run straight back into them.

Around them, the city was in an uproar. Shouting and the clash of steel on steel filled the streets. Bells rang, signaling more guards to come down and restore order.

Vadik chuckled. “Have you ever considered that it might be better for everyone if you just stayed inside with a cup of tea?” he said.

“People need more excitement in their lives,” Connor said, “now keep quiet. I’m trying to hear our new-found friends.”

Vadik smiled and rolled his eyes, but said nothing more, and Connor focused on his enhanced senses while they ran.

A few fitter guards had kept up with them and stomped along in an adjacent alleyway. They were heading right for each other, but Connor ducked into another alleyway, and Vadik followed.

They stopped occasionally and hid in doorways or behind crates to avoid passing guards or Shadowcloaks before moving again.

Sweat dripped from Connor’s brow, and he used these moments as a welcome breather to set Bvorn down on the ground.

He even pulled out the paralyzing rod to make sure Bvorn stayed unable to move or speak. If he suddenly regained his senses in the middle of this, it could spell disaster.

They moved along like this for hours. Surrounded by people hunting them… even Vadik started to look slightly apprehensive.

His potion wore off, but he was able to refresh it with a new one, and they continued their slow progress.

They occasionally cut across busier streets into other sections of alleyways and gradually circled back into the direction Connor wanted to go.

“Where are you going?” Vadik whispered, “I thought we were heading back to your little hideout?”

“That was before I knew I’d be bringing Bvorn back with us,” Connor said, “I think Korvac is better prepared to accommodate prisoners than I am.”

“Are you sure we can trust him?” Vadik whispered.

“As sure as I can be,” Connor said.

“That makes me feel so much better,” Vadik said.

They crept forward. Connor panted, and his skin glistened with sweat. He adjusted Bvorn over his other shoulder.

“I can take him off you,” Vadik said.

Connor shook his head. His back ached from the awkward load, but what if Vadik dropped Bvorn at the first sign of danger after everything they’d done to get this far?

“I promise I won’t just ditch him,” Vadik said as if reading Connor’s mind, “I know how important it is to you to get Victor back.”

Connor passed Bvorn over to Vadik, who slung him over his shoulder.

“Do you think we’re still being followed? I haven’t heard anything for a while now… what about you?” Vadik asked.

“I haven’t heard anything for almost an hour. It would take a lot to follow us without either of us picking up on it, but I don’t know… something in my gut just… ” Connor said.

“Trust your instincts,” Vadik said, “if you feel we’re still being followed, even if everything says we aren’t, then we probably are. The minute you don’t trust your instincts in our business, you’re dead.”

“Then we’re still being followed,” Connor said.

They crept forward even slower than before. He strained his heightened hearing all he could but found no sign of their pursuers. He sighed. This was more nerve-wracking than when they were nipping at his heels.

Had they guessed where he wanted to go? If so, they wouldn’t need to follow closely or even at all… He’d gone in the wrong direction initially, but anyone with experience on the streets would know to expect that.

Had they guessed he was heading to The Stars of Night? Was he being too predictable? After all, who else would The Shadowcloaks suspect?

Maybe he should take them to his refuge instead, but he didn’t exactly have a dungeon in the basement. No, he needed to stop being so paranoid. Whatever happened, they’d have to handle it. Korvac was best equipped to keep Bvorn, and once they got inside the guild, they should be relatively safe.

Alarm bells rang throughout the city, and guards rushed through the streets. The chaos they’d caused earlier was still going strong.

They stepped out of another alleyway onto a more open street.

A crossbow twanged.

He tackled Vadik. They landed in an awkward heap, and a crossbow bolt whizzed through the air where Vadik had been standing a split second before.

They scrambled to their feet and dragged Bvorn back into the safety of the alleyway as two more bolts clattered against the cobblestones.

“I knew it,” Connor said, “I just knew it was way too easy.”

“What do we do?” Vadik asked.

“If we wait here, they’ll surround us. Maybe take positions on one of the rooftops and shoot us,” Connor said, “we’ll have to go around. We might be able to sneak by them, or at least flank them.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“It beats getting turned into a human pincushion,” Vadik said.

They raced back down the alleyway, circled around and came out onto a different street.

A group of ten men in leather armor, three of which carried crossbows were running along the same street. No doubt trying to get in position to ambush them again, but they’d been too slow and now stood unprepared in the middle of the road.

“I think we may have underestimated their numbers,” Vadik said.

The crossbowmen aimed. Connor’s superhuman senses told him exactly where they were sighting. The men fired. Bolts whistled through the air, and Connor twisted out of their path just in time.

Vadik yelped. Connor checked on him out of the corner of his eye. A bolt had grazed his arm, but he was okay.

“Are you insane!” Vadik yelled, “you’re going to kill your own Guild Master!”

The men said nothing and the crossbowmen reloaded their crossbows.

“I don’t think they care,” Connor said. He threw a throwing knife at one of the crossbowmen while he was reloading.

The knife sank into the man’s throat. He fell to the ground, his crossbow forgotten as he choked to death on his own blood.

Connor threw a second knife at another crossbowman just as he finished reloading for much the same result.

Connor drew his rapier and another knife at the same time. Four of the men, each carrying shortswords, rushed him before he could throw it.

He met them in a clash of steel on steel even as another three charged at Vadik. The single remaining crossbowman stood ten feet away with his sights on Connor, ready to fire when he got the chance.

Even after running through the city for hours, Connor moved with a grace and skill that far outstripped the others.

The crossbowman remained focused on him, but he moved around the four men like a dance of death, deflecting every attack, punishing every misstep, and never giving the crossbowman a target.

With his enhanced senses, he predicted their every move before they made it and slipped through the cracks in their defense.

Connor whirled around the men once again and caught a glance of Vadik. He’d positioned himself in the mouth of an alleyway and stood his ground with the three in front of him.

Connor ducked and a shortsword whipped over his head. He took half a step forward, and another blade stabbed through empty air where his chest had been only a split second ago.

He raised his dagger and parried a sword swing without looking. The man left an opening, but another attack was already coming from one of the others. Connor sidestepped and parried with his rapier.

Four men and a crossbowman were just too many… all he could do was defend. The second he slipped up… they’d hack him to pieces.

He gritted his teeth. There had to be a way out of this… but how?

He slashed, forcing one of the men back, and parried another strike.

The crossbowman’s jaw was tightly clenched, and his eyes glared at Connor. His trigger finger quivered, and his crossbow followed Connor everywhere he went.

Connor smirked. He parried another strike and sidestepped, presenting the clearest target to the crossbowman so far.

The crossbowman’s eyes narrowed. His grip tightened… his finger started to squeeze the trigger…

Connor sidestepped and stabbed at one of the men.

The man leapt back. The crossbow fired with a hearty twang, and the bolt sailed straight into the man’s head and out the other side. Blood and brains spattered everywhere and he collapsed.

The crossbowman’s eyes went wide. His crossbow slipped from his fingers.

The man to Connor’s right turned his head and looked at his fallen comrade. Connor took advantage of the split second’s inattention and stabbed him in the neck.

Blood sprayed from the wound all over Connor’s face and upper body. The blood, combined with his inhuman grace made him seem otherworldly. Like a demon that had clawed itself out of the hells in search of fresh souls.

He turned to the remaining three. Their eyes filled with shock and horror.

“Back down now, or you’re next,” he said.

The horror in their eyes turned to hatred. The crossbowman kicked his crossbow away and drew his sword.

“Kill him. Then we’ll get the other two. I’ll be Guild Master yet,” he growled.

Connor spared another glance at Vadik. He was still holding his own and had badly wounded one of his attacker’s, but he wasn’t in any position to help.

Connor tightened his grip on his weapons. He panted heavily, and sweat stung his eyes. The men attacked, and once more their blades clashed.

Between the lack of sleep, running through the streets, and now this constant dodging, his legs felt like lead.

Soon, his movements would grow too slow. They’d catch him… and it’d be over. He had to finish this fast.

One of the men slashed at him. Connor parried and lunged with his dagger. Blades whistled through the air, announcing their presence to his superb hearing. He sidestepped without looking and dodged them.

He thrust his rapier at the man’s chest, but the man parried. Connor struck, again and again, faster and faster while evading the others’ strikes and parrying with his dagger.

He feinted. The man fell for it, and Connor slashed. His rapier sliced through the man’s throat.

Connor leapt aside, and another blade passed through empty air.

The three remaining men glared at him and gritted their teeth. “What are you?” one of them growled.

Connor threw his knife at that man. The blade sank into the man’s eye with a sickening thud, and he too fell.

Another swung at him, but he deftly swatted the strike aside and thrust his blade through the man’s neck.

Connor yanked his rapier, but it was stuck.

The man crumpled, bringing Connor’s rapier with him. The sudden tug pulled him off balance, and he landed hard on the ground.

The last one. The one who’d used the crossbow before charged at him.

Connor pulled his blade furiously, but it wouldn’t budge.

He gave up and drew another throwing knife. The crossbowman kicked his hand, and the throwing knife spun away.

He stood on Connor’s hand and drove his sword down. The cold steel pierced Connor’s armor and sank into his stomach. He cried out.

The man above him smiled cruelly and started pulling his sword free. Connor grabbed the blade with his free hand and held on tightly.

Blood ran down his fingers and flowed out his stomach, but if he let go, he’d get stabbed over and over and die that much faster.

They struggled, and the blade moved, slicing Connor up inside. He gritted his teeth and strained all he could.

The man above him had greater leverage though, and he pulled the sword free. “You killed my friends. Now it’s your turn to die in the street,” he said.

The sword descended but stopped in mid-air. The man stiffened and fell over.

Connor coughed. Blood poured out of his stomach between his fingers. He blinked and turned his head. It felt like lifting a hundred ton weight.

The crossbowman had a black dagger sticking out the back of his skull. It looked familiar… where had he seen that again?

He frowned. It was so hard to think…

Footsteps… people were rushing toward him. There was a clash of steel, the tearing of flesh. Screams.

Was Vadik okay?

Someone came closer and leaned over him, but all he saw was a dark figure against the bright sky. He blinked and tried to focus his eyes. Why was it so cold?

“Hells! He’s bleeding badly!” said the figure.

Gods that voice was familiar… why couldn’t he place it? His thoughts slipped through his fingers like eels.

“There may be more on the way. Secure the area. Take those two back to the guild hall. Have that one kept alive, and locked in the dungeon. He’ll want to interrogate him personally,” the voice commanded.

The dark figure loomed over him much closer now. Strong arms lifted him up with ease as if he were a newborn babe.

Who was it? He knew he should be able to remember… why was his head so foggy…

Buildings rushed by impossibly fast.

Were they on a horse? Some part of his mind that still worked told him no human could ever run this fast.

Wait! Bvorn! He had to be brought to The Stars of Night!

He gripped the chest of the person carrying him. “Bvorn… you need to make sure he gets to…” he said

“Shh. Don’t worry. I’ve already taken care of that,” said the voice.

Connor relaxed. Whoever they were, they seemed friendly enough, and he was so very tired.

His eyes began to close.

“No!” shouted the familiar voice, “stay with me, Connor! Stay with me!”

Connor groaned. He just wanted to rest his eyes… did they have to shout? It was almost deafening.

They entered a building with a spotless, white roof and walls. All of which were covered in beautiful engravings. The air somehow smelled fresher and cleaner here.

A woman in a white robe approached them.

“Take me to the high priestess,” said the voice that had been shouting at him nonstop, preventing him from having even a moment of rest.

“Perhaps I could be of—” the woman in white began.

“The high priestess! Now!” snarled the familiar voice.

The woman in the white robe stiffened. Her eyes went wide, and she rushed away as fast as her legs could carry her, with the one carrying Connor close behind.

Connor faded in and out of consciousness as people talked around him.

“Since when does your goddess take to such deals?” growled the same voice that’d brought him to wherever he was.

“For his case, she feels she must,” said a new voice in a calm tone, yet filled with empathy like a loving mother.

“Fine!” said the one who brought him here, “I accept! For myself and on his behalf!”

“You understand the consequences if either he or you were to renege?” said the calm voice.

“I understand! Just get your goddess to heal him!” shouted the familiar voice.

He frowned. Did they have to be so loud… At least he was lying on something comfortable.

A calming presence emanated throughout the room. It felt much like the feeling of the other woman, of a loving mother, but far more intense.

“You’d do all this for him?” said a new voice that radiated power, “perhaps you really are different from others of your kind. He is on death’s door, and I am limited by The Binding. I will need your help to pull him back from it.”

The world went black.