Branches whipped past, tearing at her hair and clothes. She stumbled over a hidden hole — his hands caught her hand urged her on.
"Go!" Sothe hissed. She heard the whisper-slice of steel through air, and a voice behind them cried out. Micaiah didn't turn to look, only kept going. While graceful, her footsteps were nowhere near as silent and sure as his; though she kept a hand clutching her hood over her bright silver hair, she knew that their pursuers could glimpse her through the shadows of the trees. It was only because of her deadly shadow that Micaiah had lasted this long.
His hand seized her wrist — somehow in front of her again — and pulled her to his side. He pulled her down and close, suddenly becoming still as stone. Her hooded face pressed into his shoulder, muffling her breathing. She wanted to see what was happening, but didn't dare move a muscle — Sothe had drilled that lesson into her a million times, so many years ago, to stay absolutely still even if you thought you'd been seen. People saw movement when they didn't see anything else.
"Spread out," a low voice called. "Rachel, Thomas, split the lights again. Everyone, stay in sight of your partner."
Micaiah's breathing had evened. She fingered her light tome beneath her cloak. They had a chance to slip away, she realized suddenly. She held tightly to the flash of foresight, and moved her head an infinitesimal
amount to place her lips next to Sothe's ear.
"Two minutes," she breathed, "directly behind me — quickly."
His fingers tightened briefly on her shoulder as a sign of acknowledgement. Micaiah closed her eyes, counting down in her mind to the moment she had seen. The seconds passed as heartbeats: her own, still racing, and Sothe's, much calmer. It was a shame, really, how calm he could be. She appreciated it at moments like this one, of course, but sometimes she got the feeling that Sothe felt out of place in a peaceful life. All of the people she cared about most, she had been through so much with — they'd seen so much in their young lives, maybe too much.
"Let's go," Sothe whispered, pulling Micaiah silently to her feet. She gripped his hand in one her hers, with her tome in the other; his free hand held a knife with a matte black blade, invisible in the dark, like him — pale skin covered by his dark coat and the dark hair falling across his face; moving too quickly and silently to pin down. Micaiah followed her shadow, this time, as they slipped away from their pursuers, like old times…
A sudden light blinded her, and her heart stopped. Too late, she thought despairingly, or too early — either way, they hadn't hit the perfect window of escape. They were caught.
Sothe moved. In the seconds it took for Micaiah to flick through her tome to damp the light, he had thrown one knife and dived forward, tackling one of the two soldiers. Sothe's arm wrapped around the man's throat, cutting off air and noise. The soldier slammed his elbow back into Sothe's abdomen, causing him to grunt in pain but only tighten his hold. Micaiah checked the other body; just as she retrieved Sothe's knife, the struggle ceased. Sothe pushed the second body off and rolled back to his feet.
"Are you alright?" Micaiah whispered, handing him his knife.
"I'm fine," Sothe assured her, accepting the blade. "Come on — we can't stop. We're not far now."
"Wait," Micaiah whispered, darting back to the bodies. She bit her lip, silently forming apologies for this lack of respect, and searched hurriedly through the soldiers' equipment. "Here." She pulled a spellbook free and tucked it one of the deep pockets of her cloak. Sothe snatched her hand and pulled her forward again, running as quietly as possible through the trees. Micaiah held tightly to her light tome, and even more tightly to Sothe's hand, suddenly afraid that she would lose him in the darkness of this forest. They were close now — close enough to worry that they might lead one of the enemy to their encampment — when for the second time, they were brought to an abrupt, unwelcome halt.
"That's far enough."
Micaiah grabbed Sothe's arm and yanked him to a stop before they ran headlong into a wall of pale, watery light that had just flashed into being in front of them. Sothe whirled around, placing Micaiah behind him. Two more Ketaran soldiers materialized: a tall woman with a bow directed at them, and a muscular, armored axe-man.
"Let's get this over with," the warrior growled, striding forward.
"Captain's orders are to call for backup," the archer woman said sharply, the tip of her arrow switching between Micaiah and Sothe.
"We did. They're coming, but I'm tired of running around these damned woods." His axe swung purposefully with a deadly hum. "Don't tell me we can't handle two kids, Dom, look at them."
Micaiah touched Sothe's back with one hand, holding her tome open in the other. The words she whispered were familiar to both of them, and she felt Sothe's muscles tense in readiness.
"I am looking at them, and I'm seeing a very sharp knife there, so I think—"
Micaiah seized full advantage of their lack of cooperation. She lifted her hand, full of blazing light. The archer cried out, her shot going wide, and the axe-man let out a roar and charged. Sothe moved forward to meet him with liquid, shadowy grace, knives flashing in the light. Micaiah ran forward to get inside the archer's range, already reading another spell. The light blasted from her hand, throwing the archer backwards, bow flung from her grasp. Micaiah yanked her small knife free and cut through the bowstring — most soldiers carried extras, but she wasn't strong enough to break the weapon itself and a cut string would at least slow the archer down if she regained consciousness before Micaiah and Sothe escaped. The light priestess whirled back around, stepping carefully closer to the other fight. She wanted to help Sothe, not distract him.
And he might need the help. As skilled as he was, going up against an axe-man with knives was never the best things. And this fighter was as skilled as any Micaiah had seen — and as strong. Sothe had managed to score several hits, darting inside the deadly sweep of the axe blade, but none of the wounds would kill the Ketaran any time soon.
As she assessed the situation, the Ketaran let out an oath as Sothe leapt out of the way of another strike. Micaiah flung a light spell at the man, but he dodged aside — toward Micaiah, and swung his axe at her. She jumped back, but stumbled and fell as her foot caught on something on the forest floor. She tumbled to the ground — possibly a life-saving mistake, because the axe blade whistled just over her head. Then a flicker of shadow reappeared as Sothe tackled the axeman away from Micaiah. She scrabbled for her tome, finding it under a bush just as a heavy thud and crash resounded. Micaiah froze, waiting to hear Sothe's voice or feel his hand on her shoulder — but nothing. She scrambled to her feet, words of a spell racing past her lips, and just as the Ketaran leapt out of the shadows at her, she flung the light magic at him. The magic caught him full in the chest and finished what knives had started: the axeman crumpled to the ground, unconscious or even dead.
For once Micaiah didn't care. "Sothe!" she cried, lifting a handful of light. "Sothe, where — ah!"
Blazing pain ripped through her shoulder, choking off her calls with a cry of pain. She stumbled back, dropping the light spell. But for the second time that night, the potentially disastrous turn saved her life. As Micaiah staggered, clutching her arm, an arrow whizzed past her ear. She stumbled back again, biting down her squeaks of pain. Without the light, the archer would have more trouble—
Another hiss of arrowflight, and then the impact took Micaiah by surprise. Instinctively she doubled over, and then the pain hit: white-hot, shocking pain that erupted from her abdomen and flamed through her body. Her knees his the ground and she couldn't stop herself from crying out. Her breath sounded loud in her ears. She raised her eyes from the red stain spreading across her blue dress, looking up at the archer woman and the arrow she was drawing back. Point-blank range, Micaiah thought pointlessly. At least the pain would be over soon…
Her eyes felt so heavy. She let them drift closed, hoping that Sothe was alright. Please, Yune, he has to be alright. And Daein… please keep them safe for me…
Author's note: Hiiii! Terribly sorry for the long wait, especially since I then go and leave you with that. Don't worry, the next chapter is already half-written, it should be up soon. So sorry for how long it's been, and a billion and seven thanks to everyone who has reviewed since it's been so long, and cheers to everyone who's read this.