Drevakin

"Drevakin?" Clara says in a low voice behind me, uncertainty clear in her tone.

I reach back and grip her forearm as I take in the seething mass of devos at the edges of the path, just out of the light from the tunnel.

Between us and House Ti'ana's cavern.

There is no way for me to push Clara back through the tunnel and to safety.

Our attackers are no longer interested in us at all as they warily eye the horde. Everyone is still, a moment that seems frozen in time. And then the first devo attacks, taking one male down. It makes quick work of him, tearing out his throat before the guard can do anything but scream.

The action cracks the moment, the stillness gone in an instant. Everything happens at once as time crashes back in. Not waiting to watch, I turn with Clara and push her ahead of me to the carriage she drove out.

"Run!" I shout.

I risk a glance back at the guards’ curses and screams. The others are scrambling to climb onto their own carriages or just running, attempting to get away on foot with no real plan in mind. Getting away on foot is impossible, but they’re gripped by panic. I turn back around, giving Clara a controlled push forward to increase her speed.

We're not yet in the thick of the swarm, but a devo makes it to us, jaws agape, rancid mouth open wide and ready to clamp down on my leg. I stab it in the eye with my knife, pulling the blade back out without stopping. There is no time to spare. I look ahead as Clara slows, turning back towards me.

"Go! Get to the carriage!"

Her eyes are wide as she shakes her head. "We should leave behind some clothes or something!" she yells over the sounds of the massacre. "Make him think those things killed us!"

We may well still be. But her idea is not a bad one if it works.

"Your robe!" I yell, undoing my cloak and dropping my second knife.

My sword and favorite knife are not worth sacrificing when we may yet need them to escape with our lives. Clara sheds her robe and throws it down. I'm a few paces behind her when my heart almost stops.

Time slows when my eyes land on the devo. It's in mid leap, attention focused on Clara. Flying towards her. I can't intercept it. There's no way.

"Clara!" My scream tears my vocal cords as I attempt to move faster.

Time snaps back into its normal speed. Her head whips toward the beast. She pulls the heavy staff back in a two handed grip. The muscles of her arms flex, standing out with the effort. She swings, the devo comes within range, my heart is in my throat. The crunch of the staff meeting the creature's skull rings out over the roar of the surrounding battle. Its body drops limply to the ground, half of its skull caved in. It won't rise again. Clara stares down, breathing hard. She's in shock, but we don't have time.

"Come!" I grip her forearm and drag her the last few steps to the carriage. "We can't fight the entire swarm! There are too many!"

I cannot let that happen to her. It's a terrible death. She doesn't resist as I throw her onto the carriage and then follow. Clara's eyes widen and I know something is behind me even before she can warn me.

"Behind you!"

I turn, expecting a devo, but it's a man, eyes wild as he runs. His intention is clear, kill me and take the carriage.

"Go!" I yell at Clara, running to meet the attack.

I waste precious moments parrying, his desperation making him fight harder. But I'm just as desperate that Clara survive. This man will kill her, never mind what Rathorin would say about it later.

His blade slices into my side, stinging as it lays open my flesh. Turning, I slide the point of my knife through his ribs and into his heart. We're eye to eye when he realizes death has come.

Pulling the knife out I step back as he falls to his knees. Battle is an evil I do not relish. Looking up, the swarm is creeping closer, more than a few devos stare at me through milky white eyes, their hunger for flesh clear.

I turn, ready to run after the carriage in the hope that I might make it, but knowing this is likely my end. When I find the carriage is still right where I left it, I snarl. Running, I leap on, rage boiling in my blood.

"I told you to go!" I bellow, panic taking all tact.

Clara gives me a look as she leans forward and slaps the juntta on its backside. The creature lurches forward in a sprint. I steady myself, looking over at her, diverted by the odd action. She shrugs.

"Sorry, it didn't respond to the clicks before and I didn’t want to take the chance it wouldn’t again," she explains with a small grin.

I shake my head and hand her the reins. The move was effective. I have never seen a juntta fall into a sprint so quickly. I will have to keep it in mind, though I hope a situation like this never occurs again.

We are moving away from the heart of the devo swarm, but I turn back just as one leaps onto the carriage. It moves toward us, saliva dripping from its fangs. I angle my sword and stand up as it scrambles forward, its teeth bared, claws clinging. The sword goes through the vulnerable softness beneath its chin, slicing through until it slides into its brain.

Dead.

I hear retching and turn to find Clara with her head over the side of the carriage. I would shield her from such a sight if I could but it seems it is her destiny to see everything. Grunting as I brace the body and slide my lodged blade out, I push it off the carriage.

"Sorry," she mutters as she straightens, her face pale.

"There is nothing to apologize for," I reassure her, covering her hand with mine. "Let me take the reins."

She hands them over without a fight. Violence is not an easy experience to live through. I would not wish it for Clara, though she fought so valiantly and with honor. I would not be alive if not for her. She put herself in great danger to save me.

I do not consider the trade worth it.

"You should not have come after me," I say in a low voice.

"I heard Rathorin sending men to kill you. There is no way I could stay back and let you die," she retorts archly.

I look over. "It was reckless. You could have died," I bite out, the thought raising my ire.

"You would have if I hadn't come after you," she counters.

I can't argue with her on that point. She's right.

"It does not matter."

"It matters to me," she argues, her voice softer.

I do not know what to say to that. The knowledge she cares leaves me speechless, though her actions should speak for themselves. There is something about the words that force me to acknowledge there is something more between us. And not just for me. For her too. Something strong enough I would risk my life for her.

And she for me. After a few moments of silence, she changes the subject.

"Where are we going?"

"I do not know," I admit. "If leaving a few possessions behind convinces Rathorin of our deaths, I don't want to return to House Lo'ara. News of our presence would travel to him if we go there and then my entire House will be at risk," I explain.

I cannot endanger my people more than I already have.

"Do you have any friends? Or know anyone who would hide us? Somewhere we can stay while we decide what to do next?" she asks.

I nod, an idea coming to me. "Perhaps," I answer cautiously.

Perhaps.