The Escape
Kumbuye and I did not move.
"You were never leaving without me knowing," Ormric snarled as other footsteps followed, perhaps the guards.
"Just surrender," he added. "You have no other choice."
I had a feeling we had been surrounded. We stepped out of hiding, raising our hands in surrender. The guards formed a loose circle around us.
Ormric's gaze fell to my bag.
"Good girl," he said. "Now bring the bag."
I tightened my grip on the strap.
"Don't come any closer," I warned.
"Is that it?" Ormric asked, nodding towards the bag. "Is that what gives you power? The key, or the compass?" His brow creased, genuinely puzzled.
"I said don't come any closer." I barked, stepping backward toward the stone slab.
"Or what?" He sneered. "If you could do something, you would have done it already. But it seems... you cannot control your power." He stepped forward. "Now, slowly bring the bag forward and surrender. We will not cause you much trouble if you cooperate."
"He's lying," Kumbuye said. "If we go with them, they'll execute us by morning."
Ormric's gaze slid to him, "Oh!" he grinned. "That is interesting. Tell me now, how exactly do you know that?"
"You're not going to hurt us," Kumbuye said. "You're afraid of what Dana might do while she still holds the bag."
A short laugh escaped Ormric before his expression hardened.
"Guards," he snapped. "Get them."
They moved in at once. Kumbuye stepped in front of me, pushing me back as he met them. He didn't have his spear, but he still fought good without one.
I pulled the strap of my bag tighter across my chest and forced myself forward. There was no time to hesitate. A guard went down near me, his sword slipping from his hand. I grabbed it and joined the fight. There weren't many of them — six at most, Ormric's most trusted guards.
Before long, they were all on the ground, breathless and gasping. Ormric scoffed. "Weak."
He unstrapped his armor, revealing a body shaped by years of combat. He was no ordinary knight, he had won countless wars for Noxara. Kumbuye had his work cut out for him.
"I'll handle this one," Kumbuye muttered, gesturing for me to stay back.
"It wouldn't be a fair fight if you have no weapons. Pick up a sword," Ormric said.
Kumbuye bent down to grab a sword, and the clash began. Ormric charged, swinging his blade, Kumbuye dodged, their swords clanged again and again.
"Run, Dana! Leave through the tunnel!" Kumbuye shouted.
I froze.
"Dana, now! Please!" he urged again.
I forced my legs to move, dragging the stone slab to reveal the tunnel. One guard lunged at me, but I was faster, stabbing him with the sword I held. As the slab slid open, a loud gasp escaped Kumbuye's lips. My heart seized, and I turned back.
Ormric had pierced him in the side. Kumbuye fell to his knees, blood spreading across the floor.
"Dana... leave. Don't... turn back," he choked out.
Ormric pressed the sword to Kumbuye's throat. "One wrong move, and his head comes off."
My body froze. I couldn't lose him.
"Okay... okay," I rose my hands in surrender, trembling, and walking back to him.
"Now, the bag." Ormric said. I didn't give it. He rose his sword, aimed at Kumbuye's neck, but I screamed, stretching my hands forward, and the power inside me erupted pushing Ormric into the wall. His head struck the stone, but I didn't stop to check if he was truly hurt.
I grabbed Kumbuye, pulling him toward the tunnel. He leaned on me with shallow breaths. The tunnel was really dark so I held up a small flame in my palm. My power was still thrumming inside me as we pushed forward.
"Kumbuye, stay with me," I muttered as I felt him slipping away.
"I'm here... keep moving. Don't stop." He rasped.
We rounded a corner, and the faintest light shone ahead — the end of the tunnel. Freedom. My chest lifted.
Oh, thank the Light.
As I drew closer to the end of the tunnel, the weight of my power humming inside me, made me stumble. Shit.
I held onto the wall for balance. Why did it decide to respond now? For whatever reason it was, I was grateful.
We burst into open air. "Kumbuye, we made it!"
I spoke too fast.
We were cornered between the sea and the guards pouring out of the tunnel.
Oh gods.
The guards had increased in number. And behind them, Ormric stumbled onto the sand, holding this cruel smirk on his face...
"You're trapped," he said. "Ah, yes — that power. Quite impressive." Madness danced in his eyes. Blood was streaming down his face from his head.
I clutched Kumbuye tighter. I thought only of escape, of leaving this place behind, anywhere but here.
And before I could think of a plan, the power inside me answered. Everything blurred fast and I was gone.
What just happened?!
I stumbled through the haze of the Veil, landing somewhere else entirely. I fell flat on my stomach. My head was a mess, I couldn't think properly.
Then it hit me. I had just veil-walked!
How?!
I looked at Kumbuye. He was also flat on the floor, wincing from the wound in his side, and of course, the impact from the fall.
I sat up and turned him over, placing my hands over the wound and muttering the healing spell. As usual, it barely did more than ease some of the pain and slow the bleeding. How long it would hold... I didn't know.
"Where... are we?" He croaked as he struggled to get up.
I shook my head. I had no idea. I only knew we had moved through the Veil, though I didn't yet understand so much of its rules or limits, or whatever the fuck just happened!
But I wouldn't lie, I was happy. Finally, my powers were responding and attentive to my call.
Everywhere around us was dark. I dipped my hands into my bag, checking to be sure the compass and key were safe.
Kumbuye groaned. "We can't stay here," he muttered. "We need... shelter, or at least somewhere to rest."
I nodded, still scanning the darkness.
We moved cautiously, searching for a place to wait out the night. Kumbuye was really weak, so we stopped at a spot that seemed safer. It wasn't deep woods or bushes, it seemed to be a settlement. We crouched beside what looked like an abandoned shop at a corner.
Kumbuye eased himself down, tugging off his blood-soaked tunic. He winced but tried to mask the pain, forcing himself to be strong. I sat beside him, strapping my bag close, and we decided to rest there until dawn.
I hardly had any sleep before a noise jerked me awake. An old woman, speaking in a language I didn't know. But the way she moved her hands, gesturing, made it clear — this was her shop, and we were blocking her door.
I sprang to my feet at once, apologising as I woke Kumbuye. He was still terribly weak. When his eyes fluttered open, he forced himself up, grabbed his tunic, and we moved on.
We had nothing. Just the clothes on our backs and my bag, holding only the compass and the key. My stomach growled with hunger. I was exhausted and shaky, but Kumbuye was worse. His steps were slow and staggering, leaning on me with his full weight. As we kept moving, he suddenly collapsed.
"Kumbuye," I gasped.
His eyes struggled to stay open.
"Hey," I said quickly, slapping his face gently to keep him awake. "Stay with me, alright. You will be fine. I will find help. I will find a healer. Hey!"
The healing spell I had cast the night before had slowed the bleeding, but this morning, it had started again. He pressed his tunic against the wound as we moved, searching desperately for help.
Dawn had only just broken. Most shops were still closed, and the streets were quiet and empty.
Then I saw an apothecary. The only one along the street.
"Hey look," I whispered to him. "There's an apothecary over there, I told you I'd find you help. Please, stay alive." I brought him closer to the place and we stepped inside. An old man sat behind a worktable, his hands stained with herbs and ink.
"I'm not open yet." The old man said.
"Please," I said. "I need your help."
The old man lifted his eyes, studying Kumbuye and me. "The boy is in critical condition," he said. "That will cost you money."
My heart lurched. I had none. Not even a single coin.
"Please," I said, my voice breaking. "Help him first. I will find a way to pay you back. Please."
"I am sorry," he replied, already turning away. "I collect payment before service."
"How much?" I asked.
"For his condition, twenty silver coins," he said. "And another fifteen coppers for herbs to maintain the treatment."
My head spun. It was expensive. Even more so for someone with nothing.
"Please," I said again, the word tasting bitter. "Just take him and heal him. I will find the money. I swear I will. Just help him."
The old man looked at me again, really looked at me. Maybe he saw the truth in my eyes, or the fear I was trying so hard to hide, because after a moment he sighed.
"Alright," he said. "Set him down on the table there."
I hurried to do as he asked, laying Kumbuye carefully on the worktable. The old man leaned over him, examining his body, his eyes scanning the wound where the blade had pierced him.
He crossed to one of the cupboards, pulled out a bundle of dried herbs, and began mixing them with a dark liquid, grinding everything together in a bowl.
When he pressed the mixture into Kumbuye's wound, Kumbuye cried out, his body jerking in pain. The old man held him down firmly, keeping him still.
"You can go now," he said to me without looking up. "Find a way to get my money. I will work on your friend."
I nodded. I had no idea how or where I would get twenty silver coins. Kumbuye was really important to me and I had to find a way to pay for his treatment.
Even if it meant stealing.
At this point, morals felt like a luxury I could not afford.
I stepped out of the apothecary with no direction and no plan. If Doya were here, he would have known what to do.
The streets were slowly coming alive now. Shops were beginning to open, and people had begun to walk around.
Even if I wanted to steal, I did not know how.
I stayed near one of the stalls, pretending to study jars of dried roots. My stomach growled with hunger, but it was Kumbuye's face that stayed in my mind.
"Twenty silver coins," I whispered to myself.
My fingers trembled as I reached out, brushing against the edge of the stall. There was a small pouch tucked beneath the counter. Carelessly placed. Easy, I told myself. Just this once.
I waited for the merchant to turn away.
When I moved to collect the pouch, a hand closed around my wrist. My body jerked.
"Thief!" he screamed.
The word snapped through me like a whip. My heart pounded so hard. The merchant's grip tightened. People nearby began to stare, murmuring as they passed by.
"I—please," I stammered, shame flooding my face. "I wasn't—"
"Save it," he cut in. "You think I didn't notice?"
I was shuddering when I heard a voice speak from behind me.
"Let her go."
The merchant hesitated, glancing over my shoulder. I followed his gaze to see the man who spoke.
"Let her go," the man said again.
The merchant frowned. "And why should I?"
"Because she's desperate, not a thief. That's my sister," the man responded. "I've been looking for her for a while now." He leaned in just enough for the merchant to hear him clearly. "And if you make a scene, the guards will come. You don't want that."
The merchant clicked his tongue in irritation and shoved my wrist away. "Get out of my sight," he snapped. "And don't come back."
I stumbled back, clutching my arm. My face burned with humiliation. I kept my head down as I turned away, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.
"Walk," the man who had spoken for me murmured as he fell into step beside me. "Don't thank me. Don't look back."
I obeyed.
We didn't stop until we reached a dark narrow street where the morning light barely touched. Only then did I dare look at him.
He wasn't old, not like the apothecary man. Not young either. He wore plain clothes, not the poor kind though.
"Why did you help me?" I asked.
"Because people who try to steal at broad daylight in the north usually have nothing left to lose," he said. "And people with nothing left to lose are useful."
What?
His eyes assessed me from head to toe.
"You're not from around here," he added. "Why were you trying to steal?"
I didn't answer. He might have helped me, but I wanted nothing more to do with him.
"Thank you for helping me," I said quietly, lowering my head as I began to walk away.
His hand closed around my arm, pulling me back.
"Oh, yes, I helped you," he said. "But that wasn't for free."
I started to draw my arm free so he could leave me alone, but his grip tightened on me.
"What did you need the money for?" he asked.
"That is none of your business, let me go!" I spat.
"Would you like me to call the guards on you for theft? I just saved your life." He eyed me down. "What did you need the money for?"
"My friend," I muttered. "He's unwell. He needs treatment."
"How much?"
"Twenty silver coins and fifteen coppers," I replied.
He nodded once, releasing his hold on me. "I'll give you the money. But you'll owe me."
"If you give me that much, I won't be able to pay you back."
"Oh, I don't want money," he smiled. "There are other ways to be repaid."
I swallowed. "What do you want?"
He assessed me again. "You'll come work for me."
My breath caught. "What?"
"Do you want to save your friend or not?" he said. "You won't get that kind of money any other way."
He sounded certain.
"I think I'll try my luck," I said, stepping around him.
His hand caught my arm again, stopping me.
"You won't," he said. "And when you realise that... the offer will still stand."
He released his grip on me.
"Come by the Honey House," he added. "I'll be waiting."