smell was normally excellent, beyond anything an amón experienced. Adrenaline made it astounding. Right now, I could nearly navigate through the tunnel by scent alone—though I didn’t risk it. Whatever was ahead could probably see in the dark better than I could, and I wanted to be able to anticipate their every move, so I cast some light orbs ahead of me as soon as I was far enough beyond the shelter to need them and I was sure Yvera wouldn’t catch up fast enough to tackle me.
Also, now that I knew the scents were a few dek old, I put away the hammer and shield to give me another boost of speed.
I identified the scents long before I came on their owners. My brain cataloged the information coolly and immediately began strategizing.
The most plentiful enemy were jorgen. Greedy, knobby little things that lived underground, hated light, and usually only bothered us when they came out at night to steal a small herd animal or shiny trinket if they could. As such, they were usually only a nuisance, and I immediately dismissed them as any kind of threat.
Right now, they were only being used as pack mules and, once I reached them, would only be living shields.
My primary attention was on the other scent, the rancid one. The one with enough dark power to blast a hole through a shelter’s protections and yet leave none of us the wiser. I didn’t waste the brain power on trying to figure out how right now. No doubt Kor was solving that mystery that very second, or, if he was attempting to even somewhat keep up with Yvera and me, then he would as soon as we got back with Sarah.
We would get back with Sarah.
I didn’t let myself think of any other option.
Most of all, I didn’t let myself think of the scent of amón blood that was in the air as well, mingling with her cool aroma. I knew that if I let myself think about it even for a second.…
No.
As I said before, my focus was on the second scent, the most worrisome one, although I had destroyed its kind before. I used the word destroy deliberately, because something had to be alive first to be able to be killed.
Rechal.
A twisted, dark spirit follower of the Devourer that had somehow gotten ahold of a dramá corpse—usually one killed by accident while alone or deliberately by consumed, since we always cremated our dead. The rechal would then possess the body, although why it wanted flesh was a mystery, since it mostly seemed to float around and be unable to do much with its rapidly decaying parts. Rechal primarily relied on their forceful, dark magic, their cunning, and any lesser creatures they could coerce into doing the Devourer’s will. Hence the jorgen.
The tricky thing about rechal was their magic, which shouldn’t be underestimated. But if you could shield yourself from it long enough to pulverize or burn their stolen remains to nothing, then the spirit would have to leave the flesh behind. To our knowledge, there wasn’t a way to kill the spirit, but without a body, its magic was greatly dampened, and it could generally be chased off with weapons enchanted to cause spirit forms pain…or just plain, good old fire.
At least the one thing I didn’t smell was the thing that made this tunnel: a rock wyrm. That…would have been bad. Very bad.
But, fortunately, the tunnel was old, the wyrm long gone. How a rock wyrm had come so close to a shelter without detection, and why, was another grim mystery for another time. All I cared about in the moment was that Sarah wasn’t currently being dragged along in its wake…or heading straight into its stomach.
Far in the distance, beyond a curve of the tunnel, jorgen shouts echoed back to me, and I saw faint flashes illuminate the curve. Then I heard the rechal shrieking in rage. It didn’t sound like their getaway was going according to plan…which meant Sarah was fighting back.
SHE’S ALIVE.
That single thought pierced through the wall of focus I had put up to keep myself from being derailed, revealing by contradiction what I hadn’t dared even think. The thought quivered through my whole being and made my flameheart roar, giving me an impossible burst of speed. I was nearly running up that outer wall by the time I made the curve, and in fact, I pushed off it with one foot to make the turn.
Sarah, I’m coming! I silently shouted, hoping she was close enough to hear.
The lights ahead originated, as I had suspected, from glowing shards of ice, but they were fading fast, revealing only briefly a chaotic mess of wounded, still, and cowering jorgen. And one abandoned, crude, empty stretcher.
Where is Sarah?!
At the sight of my own lights racing ahead of me, the jorgen screeched, and the ones who could move scattered. That would not do.
Not wanting to risk the smoke and stench of burned flesh in these tight quarters, instead of fireballs, I simply hurled lobs of raw power that mowed them over, crushing them against the floors and walls of the tunnel. Still, I missed some, and they ran on ahead.
Then I got out my sword, and as I overtook each one, I ran them through. I didn’t bother sparing or questioning any of them; I didn’t have that time, nor could I risk them coming at me from behind to stab my back later. I could see for myself that they no longer had Sarah, and I could gather why. As for where their ringleader was…I could guess that too.
Though I knew each second counted now, dealing with the jorgen and carrying my weapon had slowed me. Not much, but enough for Yvera to reach me just as I was overtaking the last ones.
Ben! Will you just come to your senses and allow more of the First Flight to catch up?
Come to my senses?! I cried as I ran through the very last jorgen without breaking my stride. Have you lost yours? I wait a second, and Sarah could.…
How long could Sarah remain ahead of the rechal? How long could she hold it off if it caught up to her or she came to a dead end?
Yvera ran alongside me. At least she seemed to realize I was in too dangerous a frame of mind for her to try to physically restrain me without Kor as backup, so she was trying reason. Such as it was.
Sarah isn’t worth risking your—
Asinine. There were more Sunfilled. One of them could take my place.
There was only one Sarah.
But since I knew the emotion behind what Yvera was saying, and since I, too, wanted to try at least one shot at reason to get her to help me save Sarah, I interrupted with, Yv, if she was me, if it was me ahead in the dark, and I was unprepared for what was coming after me, what would you do?
I was too focused on what was ahead. Too trusting that Yvera would finally understand. Too ignorant of when I would cross her line.
I didn’t see her grab coming until she had slammed me against the wall. My armor and helmet absorbed the worst of the shock, but the breath was knocked out of me for a second—both of which she no doubt had counted on. No one was more practiced in the art of hurting me without hurting me.
“That is not the same thing at all,” she snarled out loud while her forearm pressed against my windpipe. “Ben, I love you. And you don’t love—”
I blasted her against the opposite wall. Though I was beginning to see red, though my body, power, and instincts had now identified the person in front of me as an enemy, a small voice of reason yet remained, and it screamed at me to run. Before I did something I would regret to her and lost someone else I would mourn forever.
And so I ran. And in running, the rushing air helped clear my head enough to remember. To reign in the beast that was waking up inside. For a moment.
Don’t you dare, I snarled back at her in response to her last words. Don’t you dare say that. And by the Flame, don’t you dare try to stop me again. Either help me or get the hellwinds out of my way.