“Thank you.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “You’ve looked terrible lately.”
Shy snorted.
Tayel gaped. “Gee, th—”
“I mean, don’t think anything of it. If it’ll help get over your issues, I’ll go.”
“My issues?”
“Did you want to find him or not?” he asked.
Shy swiveled her head between them as they stood. “Well, you two have fun.”
Tayel gave her a pointed look. “Thanks.”
“Don’t linger around each other too long. We don’t want the guard taking suspicion.”
Tayel gathered her plate and followed Fehn to the dish drop off. When they were well out of ear-shot, she muttered, “Banshee.”
“Now I know you aren’t calling me a banshee,” Fehn said.
“I’m not. I’m calling Shy one.”
“She acts how she has to, Red. So she’s overly-cautious. This entire situation isn’t easy, and she’s done a good job pulling us through.”
“Since when do you take her side, Mr. I-hate-raiders?”
“I’m not on anyone’s side.”
“Yeah, sure.”
She and Fehn walked together, winding the trodden path through miles of tents. The last light of day faded from the sky, leaving the glowing orange campfires to cast long, dark shadows.
Tayel remembered looking for Jace in the guard sector the night he ran away. He hadn’t been there then, but she could understand why he went there now. He just wanted to feel safe in a world where his best friend could betray him and his parents could go missing. Her chest tightened. If she couldn’t convince him to leave Elsha — no. He’d listen. Jace always listened. He’d see her side and understand. Hopefully.
As she and Fehn drew closer to the guard sector, the noise of chatter quieted. People laughed a little less. Refugees sat like solemn statues and looked up with shadowed faces when they walked past.
“Does something feel off to you?” Tayel whispered.
“They all got sticks up their asses over here is all,” Fehn said. “Feathers probably fits right in.”
A strange feeling of being watched overcame her, halting her response. A feeling not unlike several weeks before, when Shy stalked her around camp. She stopped, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling.
“What?” Fehn asked.
“Um.” She scanned the path behind them. “Nothing, I think.”
“Well, we’re almost there.”
Tayel followed after him, but the feeling didn’t go away. Her heart raced a little faster at the thought of confronting Jace.
Only a minute later, she stopped with Fehn before a large, decorated tent. It stood taller and wider than the refugee tents, and more off the beaten path than most. The nearest torch stood far enough away that its glow barely touched Fehn’s back, and the next closest shelter was a good twenty second walk to the left. Very few people wandered the open space.
“Is this…?” She trailed off when Fehn nodded.
He stuffed the map in his pocket.
“Weird,” she said, squinting at the insignia stitched into the tent fabric. “This is a guard’s tent.”
“Yeah, but where are the guards? It’s not even lit.”
A scuffing sound rose out of the tent. Tayel jumped. She met Fehn’s eyes. He gave a nod toward the entrance, and her heart hammered as they tiptoed forward. She imagined Jace’s face screwed up with anger, his voice shrill as he demanded her to leave and never come back. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t even understand why he’d be out here at all.
Fehn pulled aside the tent flap.
The light from outside pooled in, illuminating three figures in the relative darkness. Two stood frozen, one with fists raised, one with a sword half-drawn, both dressed in guard armor, their eyes narrowing at the sudden light.
Jace kneeled on the floor between them. Tayel’s heart lurched. His wing lowered out of a defensive stance. His head turned, eyes widening as they met hers.
“Run!” he squawked. “Run now! The Rokkir are real!”
Fehn’s hand clasped around Tayel’s forearm like an iron vise and dragged her away. Jace’s face disappeared behind the fluttering tent flap wearing the same final, desperate look Mom wore before she fell through Top Sector’s road.
“No!” Tayel cried, veering backward.
Fehn tugged her back on course. “Run! Hide your face!”
One of the guards rushed out of the tent after them, sword raised. Fehn was right. Tayel had to move.
His hand fell away from her arm. She sprinted right behind him, eyes on the main dirt path that would lead them back to their cluster. There, surrounded on all sides by a forest of tents, their escape would be concealed. Or so she hoped. A guard horn wailed, and two guards peeled away from the startled crowd of refugees, weapons drawn.
Tayel’s instincts flared, adrenaline burning through her. She ran faster to keep up with Fehn as they wound a long arc around the two new pursuers. People’s heads turned as the two of them sprinted past, but she kept her head low, hoping it would be enough to shield her identity.
The camp horn howled. Conversations grew louder. Refugees turned every which way, searching for the cause of distress.
Another guard appeared among the tents. Lightning aether wound through her hands. Tayel dove the opposite direction of Fehn to escape, and she lost him in the crowd. Xite. She pushed on, heart pounding. Refugees parted as she scampered between the crowd, pushing and twisting and shoving to get around to a side path on the other side of them.
She had to keep going. She had to run faster. She had to escape.
A woman in leather armor snatched at her. Tayel moved just quick enough to pull out of the guardwoman’s grasp. There were more of them ahead, and to the right, and to the left. They closed in around her, a phalanx of leather and drawn bows on all sides. She stopped. Backpedaled. Her breaths came faster and shorter.
They couldn’t take her — not here, not now. Not after all this. She turned around completely — back toward the guard tent. But if she went there, she’d have less options. Dire choices overwhelmed her as the threat closed in.
A hand clasped over her wrist. She yelped, she reeled — but couldn’t tug out of the grip. Couldn’t tug out of — her gaze darted to the assailant — Shy’s grip.
Tayel bristled. “Wha—?”
Shy glared daggers. Don’t speak. Her fingers squeezed tighter, and she pulled Tayel into a sprint toward the closest tent cluster. Tayel pumped her legs to keep up, weaving in and out between startled bystanders. She couldn’t spare the breath to ask how or why Shy was there. The sensation of relief lasted only a beat before fear crawled back in.
She followed the other woman’s lead, ducking away from a group of guards and barreling into an unlit tent. Shy slid a dagger off her belt and slashed the back of the tent open. No guards blocked the way ahead. They cut a path through a few more tents and veered left long enough that even with adrenaline, Tayel’s lungs threatened to burst.
“Slow down,” Shy ordered.
“W-what?” Tayel gasped.
“Slow. Down.” Shy tugged Tayel’s arm.
Tayel changed her pace to a jog, and chanced a look behind her. No one followed them. People no longer darted out of the way to avoid them, and guards — of the very same armor of their pursuers — paid her no mind at all.
Tayel’s heartbeat slowed. The fog that had blocked Jace from her mind and allowed her to focus on escape dispersed. Acid ate at the back of her throat. She followed Shy past familiar areas, all the way to their emergency meet-up spot along the perimeter fence. Fehn paced there, eyes growing wide at their approach.
“Red, you’re okay. I thought… How did you find us?” he asked Shy.