*******
Kitreena did not know how many days had passed since she first awoke on the dirt floor of the prison cell. Day and night seemed irrelevant in the Underworld, deep below the planet's surface, hidden away from the sun and the stars. She slept when she was tired, and plotted her escape when she was not. She had tried a number of ideas—digging beneath the base of the bars had seemed smart at the time, but they reached down much farther than she had expected. Still, she refused to give up hope. I'm smarter than them, she told herself. Even if she couldn't escape when the kyrosen weren't looking, sooner or later they'd come for her and try to bind her in shackles to be taken to whatever fate awaited. And when they did, she'd be ready. The days of rest had treated her well, and aside from a slight shakiness in her knees when she stood, her body had almost fully recovered.
But the kyrosen hadn't come, much to her surprise. Various soldiers had passed through to feed them minuscule portions of dried fruit, and F'Ledro had stopped by to taunt her twice, but none said much more than that. She had spent several hours trying to reason out the possibilities before falling asleep the previous night—or day, or whatever it was—but nothing she'd come up with made sense. If Arus had died, Truce would've probably come for herself or Vultrel to replace him on the operating table. Yet with his injuries being as serious as Vultrel had described, she didn't see how he could've lived if Truce hadn't finished the operation by now. No doubt he would test the new implant and Arus' receptiveness to it by putting him in the arena with one of his friends, just as he'd done to Anton. Instead, Kitreena, Vultrel, and Eaisan were left in disgusting prison cells, apparently forgotten.
The loud clanking of stone against steel came from Vultrel's cell, momentarily distracting Kitreena from her thoughts. While she'd been attempting to dig her way out of the cell, Vultrel had asked her to toss him one of the palm-sized rocks she'd unearthed. He seemed intent on smashing the lock on his cell until he was free, but all he'd succeeded in doing was bruising his hands with repeated pounding. He'd woken Kitreena up several times with it; she almost believed he'd developed a personal vendetta against the lock for being so stubborn. Still, he was a persistent one. But his father rolled his eyes at his back on more than one occasion. Eaisan had suggested luring the soldiers into opening their cells with false promises of negotiation, but thus far, none of the kyrosen had fallen for it. They were smarter than they looked. Most of them, anyway.
Kitreena relaxed against the wall and sighed, strands of thick hair falling over her eyes. They'd been stewing in the prison for days, and she had begun to fall into deep despair. It felt as though something had bored a hole where her heart should've been, and the vacant space was a void of nothing but pure sadness. And for reasons she couldn't even hope to understand, she somehow knew it was connected to Arus. It hit her abruptly while she'd been trying to fall asleep, an image of the boy's face wearing a crimson mask of blood, and she'd been afraid to close her eyes ever since. I have to get him out of here. Her compassion for him surprised even herself. Concern turned to worry that plagued her mind, and she had long since promised herself that she would not leave him to Truce's control, even if she had to kill him to free him.
Her ears perked at the sound of a distant beep from the connecting hallway. Though Eaisan and Vultrel didn't know it—they wouldn't understand if they did—she had a heightened sense of hearing that surpassed that of the average human. At least, that's one of the things she learned from her time with Arus. "Hush," she said, motioning for Vultrel to take a break from his pounding. She crawled to the door of the cell and watched the dark end of the corridor intently. It took only seconds for the beep to repeat. My communicator. Damien wants to know where I am. The sound was growing progressively louder, accompanied by light footsteps. Whoever was carrying it was coming to the cells. "Hide the rock," she instructed. "Someone's coming."
Vultrel raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say—"
A slim figure emerged from the darkness, a scruffy man in a brown shirt and black pants. "You," he snapped, pointing at Kitreena. "This is yours, is it not?" He lifted her silver communicator.
Kitreena's mouth twisted as she looked at the Mage with contempt. He looked as though he hadn't bathed in weeks, and smelled worse. Shaggy blond hair dangled just above his beady eyes and stuck out in places around his ears. His stare made her uncomfortable, but she never let it show. "Considering that you've left us to rot in these cells, I don't see any reason why I should cooperate with you."
Abruptly, an unseen force threw Vultrel's body against the back wall of his prison cell. He slumped to all fours, grunting through clenched teeth. The Mage's eyes never left Kitreena's. "Defiance will only bring pain to your companions," he warned. "That was the least of what I'll do if you do not cooperate."
Kitreena wanted to turn her eyes to Vultrel, to see if he was all right, but she knew the importance of maintaining a strong appearance to the enemy, both physically and mentally. "You can kill them, for all I care." Without looking, she knew Vultrel and Eaisan were glaring at her.
"If not for my orders to see that you three remain alive, I would," he responded. The communicator beeped again. The longer she stalled, the more the delay would arouse Damien's suspicion. "But don't think I'll forget your insolence once Truce no longer has need for you."
"You waste your breath with idle threats," she snarled back. "The moment that you or any of your goons open these cells, your lives end."
The skinny man laughed in a disturbed cackle. "Is that a threat?"
"A fact," she replied. "Whether or not you believe isn't important to me."
Another beep. "We shall see," he chuckled. "For now, you will answer this. You will be casual and calm, and say nothing that will lead anyone here. If you do not do as I say, your friends here," he motioned toward Eaisan and Vultrel, "will suffer dearly."
"They aren't my friends. And I thought you said Truce wanted us alive." She didn't want to say it, but she couldn't allow him to have such leverage over her.
"Alive, yes. But nothing was mentioned of what condition." His emphasis on the last word sent a shiver down her spine. He held up the communicator just out of her reach. "Answer," he ordered, pushing the thin button on the side.
The line was open, and she knew Damien was on the other end. She could say anything, even blurt out where and how she was being held. But as much as she said she didn't care about Vultrel and Eaisan, nothing would've been further from the truth. She shot the Mage a look that might have turned most men to stone, and spoke. "Yeah?"
"Kitreena?" There was obvious panic in Damien's voice. "Where have you been? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. Things have been hectic, that's all. How did everything go at Belvidia?" The Mage shot her a look that said this was not the time for small talk.
"Not well, I'm afraid. Kindel made off with Lady Almatha and her assistants. The Alliance is currently formulating a plan to rescue them. We may be needed to help out. How has your assignment gone?"
Kitreena's eyes met the scrawny soldier's with fierce defiance. "It's not over, yet."
"Do you need any help?"
The Mage released the button. "You tell him it won't be necessary, and tell him to leave you alone until you contact him again."
Before she could protest, he pressed the button. Grinding her teeth, she said, "That won't be necessary. I'll handle things here." Pressed for time and limited on options, there was only one idea she could come up with, and she knew she had to do it before the weasel decided she'd had enough time to speak.
"Are you sure?" Damien asked. "I can be there if you—"
"No, Zhun Hai, I can take care of myself."
The soldier snarled as he pulled the communicator away. "What was that?" he demanded, grabbing the prison bars. "What did you say to him?"
She didn't budge, meeting his fierce stare with one of her own. The communicator cra
ckled with Damien's reply. "Understood."
The Mage grabbed her, wrapping quivering fingers around her throat. "What was it?!" he growled again.
Regardless of what he did to her or the other two, Damien was certainly on his way. She rarely asked for help, but when she did, he was always quick to respond. And if she knew Damien, he was already close. Finally, she smiled. "I apologize. Old habit of mine. It means ‘thank you' in his native tongue."
But the soldier wasn't buying it. "Don't feed me such rubbish! I'm not some fool—"
The lantern abruptly extinguished, cutting him off in mid-sentence as darkness overtook the prison. Kitreena's smile grew, though he couldn't see it, and she tore his hand from her throat. "Don't be silly. You're a much bigger fool than you give yourself credit for!"
Heavy boots rushed across the dirt floor, and the Mage grunted sharply before collapsing in a heap. The lock shattered with a spark, and seconds later she felt a strong hand wrap around her wrist. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Damien," she told him, pulling away. "I'm not a child anymore. I can look after myself."
She didn't have to see his face to know he was grinning. "And a fine job you've been doing so far, I must say."
She rolled her eyes and began to grope around the floor in search of her communicator. "A little help?" she muttered.
The lantern sprang to life with an unnatural brightness, forcing Kitreena to shield her eyes for a moment. When she returned to her feet with her communicator in hand, her eyes met the shocked stares of Vultrel and Eaisan, side by side in their respective cells, as they looked upon Damien. She was aware they'd never seen a foreign life-form before—or so they believed—but they openly gaped as though he had six heads. To be expected, she supposed. To someone unfamiliar with the other races of the galaxy, Damien's appearance could be quite intimidating.
He stood half-again as tall as her, his head nearly brushing the cavern ceiling. Most of his sturdy body was shrouded by his cloak, its deep blue almost appearing black as it rippled with his movements. Black leather pouches hung from either side of his belt, and his fine blue coat was embroidered with silver thread and elegant jewels arranged in the appearance of a tree bearing fruit. But it was Damien's face that garnered the most attention. His skin was pale blue, and dark eyes glistened over his warm smile. Long snowy hair ran halfway down his back. He had the appearance of a battle-hardened warrior with the gentle demeanor of a lamb. "I believe this is yours," he said, raising her coiled whip. He held two sheathed swords in his other hand, which Vultrel was eying. "Who are they?" Damien asked, motioning toward the other prisoners.
"Locals," Kitreena told him, latching her whip to her belt. ". . . And friends. Let them out."
Damien nodded, and the locks on both cells burst in a shower of sparks. Vultrel opened his cell door with obvious caution, no doubt unsure of what to make of Kitreena's companion. "I thought you said we weren't your friends," he grumbled at her. "Truce could kill us, for all you care, right?"
She headed toward the main hall without even looking at him. "An enemy will use any weakness he can to exploit you. I was doing you a favor. Give them their swords, Damien. They're trustworthy."
Vultrel was obviously grateful. He strapped the sheath to his back and drew the weapon to inspect the blade. Eaisan latched his sword to the back of his belt, his eyes shifting from Damien to Kitreena and back again. It was clear that he didn't trust either of them, but he kept whatever reservations he had to himself.
"You'll have to excuse her," Damien's voice was polite. "She can be a bit . . . passionate about her work."
"What . . . are you?" Vultrel finally asked. "You can't be human."
Damien chuckled. "No, I am not. As you have probably assumed by now, we are not of this world. I regret that I cannot tell you much more than that, but please believe that we are not here to harm you or any of the natives of this planet. Kitreena came to prevent Truce's cybernetic implant from becoming a reality, but it seems that plan has failed. Now we must see that it is destroyed, along with any research and documentation that is connected with it. He cannot be allowed to share that technology with anyone, or the consequences may be severe."
"I see you've been doing some investigating of your own," Kitreena said as they gathered near the exit into the main tunnel. "How much do you know, and how much do I need to go over?"
"I know that he has completed his first experiment and that the subject didn't react as he'd hoped. I've heard rumors of a second experiment, but I haven't been able to learn anything else as of yet."
Kitreena peered through the door and surveyed the connecting hallway. Several bodies were scattered across the floor, lying in motionless heaps. The path to the upper levels was clear for the moment. How far that security stretched, however, was difficult to estimate. "We have to return with backup," she told him. "This is no longer a solo operation. If Truce does have a second experiment up and running, it will take more than just us to bring it down."
"I get the feeling you've seen a lot of action around here," Damien noted, ducking through the doorway.
"Is the Refuge here?" she asked, ignoring his comment.
"She's on her way. I came straight from Belvidia, but Commander Naelas stopped off at Outpost Seventy-Six to refuel. I don't know how close he'll be able to get, though. The Armada has returned."
Kitreena swore silently. "Why? What interest could he possibly have in this planet?"
"Is Terranias in danger?" Eaisan spoke up. Kitreena and Damien both glanced at him, then each other.
"There's no need to worry," Damien finally responded. "I apologize. We should not be troubling you with such matters. Come, we must get you two out of here."
The pathway winding to the next level of the Underworld was relatively quiet, the occasional pops from the torches being the lone exception. Kitreena anxiously ran her hand across the handle of her whip. She had no fear of an ambush; she could handle a few of Truce's goons just fine, and Damien could take on more. Her concern was more about who would be leading them. Truthfully, she couldn't explain how or why she was so convinced that Arus was alive, but if he were to jump out of the shadows at them, driven by that cursed implant . . . The thought was enough to make her shiver. I don't want to kill him, but if I have to do it, I will. I must.
Eaisan finally broke the silence as the path leveled, leading toward an intersection in the distance. "May I ask where you come from?" he asked, his wary eyes meeting Damien's.
"A place far from here. A planet called Zo'rhan."
"And her?" He motioned toward Kitreena. "Truce said she was something called a ‘Morpher.' What did he mean by it?"
Kitreena shot a look of warning toward Damien. "It's not important."
He frowned for a moment, then shrugged. "There are many things we cannot reveal, I'm afraid."
"What about the Vermillion Mages?" Vultrel spoke up. "You two seem to know a lot about them. Are they from another planet, too?"
"That certainly would explain a lot," Eaisan added. "Is there anything you can tell us about them? Regardless of what happens, the Mages will still be here once you've returned to wherever it is that you're from. If you can tell us anything that will help us fight them, we'd be most grateful."
Kitreena remained silent, leaving it to Damien to decide what to reveal. The dangers of exposing an isolated planet to the rest of the universe were great. Differences in opinion regarding foreign life cut rifts among societies, sometimes leading to irrational actions and needless bloodshed. She remembered when the planet of Kardelia was inadvertently exposed to a being from a distant planet. It sparked a controversy that led to a horrific war years later.
A few scientists had drawn up plans for the planet's first starship, but a large portion of the population rallied against the idea of exploring the galaxy. They feared the unknowns of the universe, feared the dangers of space travel
, and feared the foreign races of other planets. Many were convinced that those who traveled the cosmos would return with strange diseases that would plague Kardelia. Even amongst the scientists, there were quarrels about how to proceed. Money was an issue, too, as each fought to claim the right to captain the starship in hopes of riches and fame. Kardelia bubbled like a burning cauldron, and when a band of opposers bombed the facility where the starship was being constructed, civil war erupted.
And it had all started when a lost Orach from the planet of Orachael had crashed on the shores of one of their most populated continents. Needless to say, it was clear that sharing information about the universe with cultures that had yet to find their own way into space was a decidedly bad idea. Kitreena hadn't come to Terranias to start a war, and Damien had only come to rescue her. And while her appearance could pass as human, Damien's presence had completely broken the barrier between Terranias and the stars. How much more could they safely share? Or had they already set events in motion that would irrevocably change the course of the planet's history?
"It is dangerous to share outside information," Damien eventually said. "The less you know, the better off you are."
The three of them held back for a moment while Kitreena peered around the corner of the intersection. "Clear," she said in a soft voice. "Which way?"
"Right," Damien instructed as he passed her. "I'll take the lead."
"This is my mission," she protested. "I am a capable leader, Damien."
"Once word of your escape gets back to Truce, he'll send every one of his men after us. I can retrace the path I took when I arrived and cleared out the guards. It will be safer that way. And faster."
"But I—"
A figure emerged from one of the corridors ahead of them, shaking his head. His shaggy black hair and oversized nose identified him almost instantly. As soon as Kitreena took her first step, she knew she was in for a tongue-lashing from Damien. But that concern was replaced by rage, and she yanked the whip from her belt. "F'Ledro!!" she snarled, cracking her whip. The wiry man looked up in a startled panic, his hand darting for his laser pistol. But at the sight of her, he instead fled down the hallway with Kitreena in pursuit.
"Kitreena!" Damien shouted, chasing after her. "Get back here! Stop!!" Vultrel and Eaisan followed, hands on the hilts of their weapons.
"Face me, F'Ledro! Fight like a true kyrosen!" Kitreena taunted, her knuckles turning white around the leather-wrapped handle of her whip.
F'Ledro drew the pistol and fired blindly over his shoulder, blasting the cavern ceiling with a brilliant crimson streak of energy. "Warriors to battle!" he screamed, his whiny voice tense with fear. "Warriors to battle!!" Laser blasts continued flying over his shoulder, most landing nowhere near his pursuers.
"Kitreena, stop!" Damien called again. "Let him go! We have more important duties to attend to!"
"He won't get away this time!" she yelled back. She had a good idea of how his lecture would go, rambling on about how she barely considered the dangerous weight of her actions. But it would be worth it if she could just finish the job here and now.
F'Ledro tore around a distant corner, screaming his rallying cry the whole way. Vultrel bared his sword, grumbling, "So much for not drawing attention to ourselves," under his breath. Damien continued his protests, insisting that Kitreena halt her pursuit, but she pushed ahead, running as fast as her legs would carry her. Her adrenaline surged as she rounded the corner . . .
. . . and skidded to a stop so abrupt that her feet slipped, bringing her down on her backside.
F'Ledro stood less than twenty paces away accompanied by at least that many soldiers. Many had swords drawn, and those leading the pack had conjured glowing balls of fire in their palms. Shouts rang through the cavern, and fists pierced the air above the crowd. The fear was gone from F'Ledro's face, mocking arrogance in its place. The lanky Mage's gap-toothed grin glistened in the torchlight, and the barrel of his pistol was pointed at her head.
Everything happened so fast. The trigger was pulled, and the piercing shriek of the laser blast echoed, but the shot never reached her. Damien stood between herself and F'Ledro, a shield of magical energy pulsing around him. The laser was absorbed by the barrier. Kitreena scrambled to her feet and backed away, curious if Damien intended to fight the soldiers. His dark gaze met hers as he peered over his shoulder at her. The gentle demeanor had vanished from his face, replaced by the determination of the battle-tested warrior she'd fought alongside for so long. "Run, Kit," he said simply.
"I won't leave you—"
"I'll be fine. Go back to the tunnel that F'Ledro came through. It will lead you out."
F'Ledro continued firing blast after blast from his pistol, pummeling Damien's shield. The other kyrosen had joined in, launching a seemingly endless array of magical attacks. The energy field glistened with each blow, but it held. Vultrel and Eaisan stared in open amazement as they tried to convince her to flee. Kitreena met Damien's eyes again. "You don't mean to fight them alone, do you?" she asked, nervously twitching her whip.
"No, I don't. I'm just going to give you enough time to get away from here. I'll follow shortly." His attention shifted to Eaisan and Vultrel. "Please take care of my daughter."
That drew more uncomfortable stares, but she had no time to deal with it now. "Come on," she growled reluctantly. "Follow me."
The opening from which F'Ledro had emerged led to a long curved path with a sharp upward slope. At the top, the corridor opened into a large cavern, presumably another of the sand snakes' nests. Countless bodies of fallen kyrosen lay scattered across the floor. Damien's work, no doubt. Why Truce and his men hadn't come to inspect the devastation for himself was certainly a wonder, but Kitreena wasn't about to complain. The lone opening on the far side of the cavern led to another corridor, this one sloping upward at an even sharper angle.
"It's cooler here," Vultrel noted as they ran.
Eaisan nodded in agreement. "We're nearing the surface. The exit can't be too far now."
The hall ended at an awkward intersection of paths and caves where the sand snakes had obviously burrowed multiple times in numerous directions. A fork in the tunnel was intersected by another, creating a jumble of paths amongst haphazardly placed columns of dirt. Kitreena took a quick look around and smiled. "I know where we are," she told them. She'd come through the area when she'd entered the Underworld, though she'd used a different corridor. "If I remember right . . ." she paused, trying to recall. They all look the same. But when I came through, the tunnel stretched in two directions to my left. Now they're on the right, which means . . . "There," she decided, pointing to one of the openings in the opposite wall. "That should be—"
The sudden rumble of shouts filtered through the hall behind them. "They're coming!" Vultrel exclaimed.
Kitreena dashed toward the doorway. "Come on!" Damien, please be all right.
The tunnel was straight this time, its incline so steep it may as well have been the side of small mountain. The dirt was rigid and gnarled, marred by a mixture of protruding rocks and empty holes where previous stones had fallen away. Vultrel stumbled several times, and Kitreena had to use her hands to scramble up the hill. But at the top, a radiant glow of light filtered down, a light too pure to have been made by a torch.
Sunlight.
"Is that what I think it is?" Vultrel asked with wide eyes.
Kitreena used it to motivate them. "You won't know unless you climb up there and see for yourself. Move!" Her hands ached, and her knees were bruised, but no amount of pain would stop her now. She scurried up the rocky path with the agility of a cat, glancing behind herself every so often to check on her companions. They were making slower progress than her, but it was progress nonetheless.
"How in blazes did they manage to carry us down here in the first place?" Vultrel muttered.
"The kyrosen have live
d here for years," Kitreena responded without looking back. "I'm sure they can cover this path with their eyes closed." Sand mingled with the dirt amongst the rocks, thickening the higher they climbed. It filtered down from the top of the hill like a frozen waterfall, shifting only when Kitreena's fingers sank into it. By the time she pulled herself over the last stone, the dirt had disappeared beneath the thick blanket of sand. It stretched nearly a hundred paces ahead, ending at a round opening of light where the cave ended and the desert began. Behind her, Vultrel and Eaisan had barely passed the halfway point; they seemed determined to traverse the path upright rather than climb across the stones as she had. "Come on!" she urged them.
Without warning, an azure sphere of light burst through the cavern door below and exploded against the base of the hill, shattering stones and sending debris flying. Vultrel fell to his knees and grabbed hold of a large rock to steady himself. Beside him, Eaisan peered down toward the cloud of dust that now obscured the door. The dark form of a towering man dashed into the room, his features hidden by the debris in the air. Eaisan's eyes widened at the sight, and he grabbed onto Vultrel's arm. "Go! Get moving! They're—"
Damien burst through the billowing haze, leaping from stone to stone with a swiftness that belied his muscular form. An army of kyrosen followed close behind, waving swords and launching balls of flame from their palms. Kitreena drew her whip as she watched, inching toward the edge of the hill in anticipation. She expected to hear Damien yelling for her to run, but she was more than reluctant to abandon him to the kyrosen again. On either side of her, Vultrel and Eaisan finally pulled themselves to the top of the hill. Damien leapt from left to right as he scaled the path, dodging the fiery blasts with agility that could only be described as uncanny. When his eyes finally locked with Kitreena's, the expected order to retreat came. "Get out of here, Kitreena! Go!"
She defiantly cracked her whip as she shifted her glare to the kyrosen. "You saved my hide back there," she called, her voice firm and commanding. "I'm prepared to return the favor."
"I appreciate the sentiment," he growled as an azure ball of flame crashed into the wall to his left, narrowly missing his shoulder. "But now is not the time! I'll take care of these guys! Just go!!"
Kitreena grit her teeth in a snarl of anger. Behind her, Vultrel and Eaisan had their swords drawn and ready to support her if needed, but when Damien made a decision, she knew better than to question his judgment despite what her feelings said. She didn't always like it, but feelings had no place on the battlefield. "Come on," she muttered to the two behind her, "we're leaving."
With Eaisan and Vultrel close behind, she raced for the tunnel exit as fast as her legs could carry her. After being trapped underground for so long, the desert air was refreshingly cool against her skin, and the rays of sun pouring into the cave almost blinded her. She dug her heels into the sand just short of the doorway and slid to a halt. Damien was just clearing the top of the hill when she looked back. He shrugged his cloak from his shoulders as he turned his back to her and extended his hand toward the enemy soldiers. Palm outward, he clenched his other hand into a fist and brought it close to his stomach. A blinding teal light enveloped both arms from the elbows down, and his knees bent gradually as he shifted backward. Kitreena's back hit the wall; it was the first she noticed she'd been stepping away. Vultrel and Eaisan were looking at her expectantly, fear and anxiousness evident in their eyes. "Come on!" she motioned for the exit again. "Go!" She stepped behind them as though she meant to follow, but her eyes turned back for one more look.
Damien was screaming now, his hands radiating with an immense amount of energy. Kitreena barely saw one of the Mage's heads pop into view over the peak of the rocky path before Damien threw both arms forward with a deafening roar. The light shot forward in a massive beam of searing light, exploding into the cavern roof above the kyrosen soldiers with unspeakable force. The dirt roof crumbled in an avalanche of dirt and rocks. Come on, Damien. Come on! Run! For a moment, she could still see him as the energy poured from his palms, but then he was obscured by the billowing fog of dust and soil. Finally, Kitreena growled in frustration and escaped into the desert.
The sands of the Mayahol were dotted with large boulders and odd rock formations across the area. The ground was more solid beneath the boot than the rest of the desert, likely due to the kyrosen's constant foot traffic as they came and went. The air felt cool, though in reality it was actually a scorching summer day. After her time spent underground, Kitreena imagined a branding iron would feel like ice to her skin. A gentle breeze blew through her hair as she glanced at the height of the sun. Nearly noonday. But who was to say what day?
Vultrel and Eaisan had run from the boulders and into the open desert like fools, and they frantically waved to her as she rushed from the cave. Her whip still in hand, she headed toward them, if only to yank them out of plain sight and behind one of the larger clusters of stones. "Get over here!" she ordered in a scolding, motherly tone. "Have you both taken leave of your senses!? There are patrols all over this area! You two are easy targets out in the open like this! All it would take is one—"
Apparently, Vultrel had heard enough. "Well, forgive us for being a bit spooked by your friend!" he shouted at her, vigorously pointing his sword toward the cave. He twisted his mouth around the word ‘friend' and eyed her as though she was no better than Truce. "You two nearly got us all killed several times back there, and I'm sick and tired of being ordered around by a bossy little girl who—"
Eaisan finally silenced his son with a wave of his hand. "Calm yourself, Vultrel. The young lady and her companion got us out of there, didn't they? Please, show a little bit of gratitude."
Kitreena had already turned back toward the cave. Dirt and smoke poured from the opening now, but her heart leapt as Damien emerged, walking with a confidence that was obviously meant to cover his exhaustion. She knew him too well; such a use of his power had most certainly drained him, but he would try to hide it to keep her from worry. It had rarely worked in the past, and it wasn't working now. "Are you all right?" she asked as he reached them.
He must've seen that he wasn't fooling her, because his words were blunt. "The shielding drained me. But that last technique nearly killed me."
"We've got to get you to Doc Nori," she told him. It came out a bit harder than she'd meant it, but he took her orders when he knew she was right, and this was one of those times.
"Agreed," he nodded, "but not yet. We will first see these two safely from the desert."