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ARIELLA
If this corridor was just a few feet longer, we might’ve been done for. It would only take one guard’s escape for the alarm to be raised. Luckily, Zyranth is too fast for them in such a small space. He moves with lightning speed and cat-like grace, reaching the three tall elves before any of them can even think to attack us. In a blur of motion, Zyranth twists and turns, his fully extended claws slashing through the air, spraying blood.
Quick as that, the three guards lay dead on the floor and Zyranth and I are halfway down the next corridor. We sprint down this one, take a right, and sprint to the end of the next one. At the next intersection, Zyranth comes skidding to a halt and puts his arm out to block me. He signals me to remain silent, then indicates his ear. I realize he wants me to listen, and, sure enough, I hear the sounds of footsteps and quiet voices coming slowly in our direction.
I look up at Zyranth urgently. That’s the direction we must go in, I recognize this part of the manor. But judging by the footsteps and voices, at least five guards must be headed straight toward us. Zyranth might be able to take them all down before any escape, but it would be a near thing – elves are quick.
My mind made up, I point toward the door across the hall. “In there,” I mouth silently. “Quickly.”
Zyranth hesitates for a moment. I can tell he wants to fight them. His bloodlust is up, and his instincts tell him to fight, but he must see we can’t possibly fight every guard in the manor. He looks into my eyes briefly then nods. I can see his trust for me growing in his gaze and feel my trust for him strengthen because of it.
We cross the hall on tiptoes and Zyranth reaches for the handle. The door swings open easily, and we quickly walk in, closing the door behind us. Zyranth remains at the door, ear pressed against the wooden panels.
I decide to let him listen for the guards – his ears are better than mine anyway – and turn to look around the room. A soft, green glow lights the small wooden chamber, the light coming from a magically suspended orb floating just below the ceiling. The walls are lined with bookshelves and a small writing desk is positioned in the far corner. Curious, I approach the desk and look down at the book laying open on its surface.
The pages are yellowed with age and extremely fragile in appearance. The page it’s currently opened to shows a carefully sketched creature in black ink. It looks like a cross between a human and a worg. Next to the book is a sheaf of parchment, its corners weighed down by small pebbles. Written on the parchment in a tidy but spiky hand are the words: claws- worg, fur- worg, spikes- unknown, scales- reptilian, shape- humanoid, wings- bat.
Suddenly, the implications dawn on me. These are Zyranth’s features. Lord Everan must be researching mythical creatures trying to figure out what Zyranth is. Rage fills me the longer I consider it. Lord Everan is seeking a way to manipulate Zyranth into being his pet, or, failing that, to break him to his will. If he thinks he’ll find the answer in these pages, he’s mistaken. There’s nothing in the world quite like Zyranth. I don’t know how, but I know that’s true. He is one of a kind.
“Ariella,” Zyranth suddenly whispers. “Come. The guards are gone, we need to get moving.” I nod quietly in response, still troubled slightly by Lord Everan’s notes, and we head for the door. Zyranth opens it slowly, peeking in both directions before stepping into the corridor.
We take off in the direction the guards came from, moving swiftly but stepping as lightly as possible. Every moment seems to take an eternity as we move through the dark passages. Zyranth’s presence is the lone comfort in this foreboding place.
Zyranth skids to a stop at the next intersection, signaling me to remain silent. He indicates the hallway to our left, so I peek carefully around the corner to see what he’s found. Two tall elves stand about halfway down the hall, their backs turned toward us.
“Lord Everan should return this afternoon,” one of the guards says to his partner.
“Aye. Doubt he can leave that pretty new toy of his alone for long,” the other guard responds. I sense Zyranth tensing at the guard’s words and put my hand on his arm to calm him.
“If he really finds that beast he’s been on about, I can’t say I’ll envy the guards tasked with watching it,” the first guard says. “I hear the creature killed a dozen of us when it escaped the last time. Unnatural, that. The thing should be killed if you ask me.”
“Yeah, well, nobody did ask you, did they?” the other guard responds. Having heard enough, I pull Zyranth close.
“Follow my lead,” I whisper. He doesn’t look happy, but I can tell he will listen. I take a deep breath, then step out into the hallway with the guards.
“Oh, thank the gods!” I say, faking relief. “Guards, finally! Oh, I’m dreadfully lost. Could you please help a girl find Lord Everan’s chambers? I’m to bring him word of the auction, but I don’t know where I am.”
The guards turn around with a start, faces painted with shock.
“Auction? What auction? You shouldn’t be here,” one of the guards says after recovering from his shock. They both walk towards me, still looking confused. “And Lord Everan doesn’t conduct business in his chambers, why would he send you here? Hold on…” As the guards draw within a few feet of me, recognition dawns on their faces, but it’s too late for them already.
In a heartbeat, Zyranth is on them. He leaps out from behind the wall, body turning horizontal in the air. He brings down one guard with his hands, the other with his feet, his razor-sharp claws shredding their throats and killing them in seconds.
As soon as the guards are down, we continue racing forward. The corridors seem to be growing lighter as we continue, and the air is growing less stale. We must be getting close, but how long do we have? Those guards said Lord Everan would be returning this afternoon, but we have no way of knowing what time it is down here. Moreover, the dead guards and my empty cell will be discovered before long.
As if on cue, bells begin ringing around us. The alarm has been raised. My adrenaline peaks once again, and Zyranth and I break out into a full sprint. Well, it’s a full sprint for me at least.
As we dash around the next corner, now following the gradual increase of light toward the exit, we plow into a patrol of five guards. Zyranth immediately begins killing in a viscous blur of scales and fur. I pick up a sword from one of the fallen guards, holding it in front of me with two hands.
Zyranth is surrounded by the three remaining guards, having killed two of them immediately. Now that they’re aware of him they’ll be more difficult to kill. Luckily, they already seem to have forgotten me. I lift the sword and swing violently for the back of the first guard’s neck. The steel lodges firmly in the meat of his neck in an explosion of blood, distracting the other two guards long enough for Zyranth to dispatch them with his claws.
I wrench my newfound weapon free, and Zyranth and I begin running once again. We’re almost there, I can sense it. The air feels crisper and cleaner and the corridors here are almost fully illuminated. We’re flying now, the winds of our approaching freedom growing ever stronger beneath our wings.
We shoot around the next corner and an unbelieving laugh bursts from my lips. Sunlight spills from an opening at the end of the corridor. We’ve finally reached the exit. Elation pulses through my veins as we approach.
Suddenly, my joy and relief turn to ashes in my mouth as a dark figure steps up into the opening. Laughing maniacally, the guard raises his hand, and a massive ball of magical energy appears. This is the end, isn’t it? That ball of angry blue energy, crackling in his hand like lightning, is too big for us to dodge. The strength of it will certainly kill me, though I have no idea what, if anything, could kill Zyranth.
Zyranth growls next to me. I can feel his anger and desperation spiking. This is the end. There’s nowhere to run, and not even Zyranth can reach that elf before he releases his attack.
