Ryven, already a blur of motion, emerged from the mouth of their alcove. Steel flashed in the dim light. He fought like a revenant, a silent, deadly force. Bodies fell in the flickering glow. The clang of metal, the wet thud of impact. Arin pushed herself to her feet, her own knife already in her hand.
"Ryven! What in the seven hells is happening?" Her voice was raw, laced with the terror that still clawed at her chest.
"Ambush! They're everywhere!" he roared back, parrying a blow that would have cleaved him in two. His movements were precise, economical, like a dance of death. "Get Caldan! Now!"
Arin didn't hesitate. Her muscles screamed, but adrenaline surged through her veins. She lunged for Caldan, grappling his unconscious body. He was heavy, dead weight, but she dug her heels in, gritting her teeth. She dragged him, her knuckles scraping against the rough furs, towards the forgotten crack in the wall—the tunnel she'd barely noticed before.
