To my left, the mountain fell away into a sheer drop of thorned undergrowth. To my right, the rock wall offered no grip. I was trapped in the mouth of the pass.
Their shadows lengthened against the stone entrance as they stalked closer.
“Stand down,” one ordered. “You have crossed into restricted territory.”
Only then did I glance at the ground and realize how far I had run. The soil beneath my boots had shifted, the dirt turning the color of bruised plums, the vibrant moss of Haelen replaced by stunted, grey lichen.
I had crossed the threshold. I was in the Umbral.
“I will not go with you,” I shouted.
I dropped to my knees, my fingers scrabbling against the dark earth until they closed around a handful of loose stones. The guards were silhouetted in the narrow opening of the crevice, blocking my only exit. I did not even look; I simply hurled the rocks through the gap, my eyes squeezed shut as I prayed—pleaded—that at least one would find its mark.
The dull crack of stone hitting leather snapped through the air, followed by a sharp intake of breath.
A growl bounced off the rock walls before the stocky man’s face appeared in the opening. He snarled, prowling into the narrow passage with his blade leveled, but the taller one halted him with a flat palm to his shoulder.
“Resistance at the threshold,” he murmured. “Foolish.”
The shadows around him thickened subtly, drawn inward like breath before a strike. I edged sideways, shimmying deeper into the crevice until my heel found empty air at the far end of the ledge.
There was no space left to retreat.
Biting down on my bottom lip, I turned to the opening and saw the taller guard shimmying into the space.
I needed to move.
I pivoted, hooking my fingers into a cluster of twisted roots anchored in the rock face, and swung myself around the outer corner of the ledge. I vaulted past the sheer drop, landing hard but sprinting toward the sparse cover of low brush on theUmbral side. I could not outrun them—but I could force them to follow me into the thicket.
A gnarled root caught beneath the taller Veythar’s stride, snagging his pursuit for a heartbeat. It was all the opening I had. I scooped a handful of damp soil from beneath a fern and flung it blindly backward.
The distraction lasted no more than a blink.
He recovered with inhuman speed, charging through the debris. The impact drove me into the trunk of an ancient oak with crushing force, the bark biting into my spine. Air left my lungs in a violent rush, and stars scattered across my vision as the world tilted.
Before I could find my footing, his gloved hand seized the front of my tunic, the fabric bunching beneath my chin as he lifted me clean from the ground.
The collar pressed against my throat, tightening until my ears began to ring. My boots scraped uselessly against the rough bark, my legs dangling as his grip turned into a vice. There was no hesitation in his gaze—no flicker of recognition that I was a woman, or a daughter, or even a person.
I leaned in and bit down hard, the metallic taste of leather and iron flooding my mouth as I tore at his glove. He roared, his head jerking back, and I drove my knee upward with every ounce of my remaining strength.
His hold only tightened in response, his fingers digging into my windpipe. Black crept inward at the edges of my sight, the thrum of my own blood rushing to fill my ears until it was the only sound left.
Then, the pressure vanished.
I collapsed forward, my knees hitting the loam as I dragged in air that tore at my lungs like shards of glass.
I struggled to understand the sudden silence, my vision swimming.
The two Veythar were no longer standing. They lay convulsing upon the earth, their bodies wracked by an unseen force that pinned them to the soil as if the gravity of the world had suddenly doubled.
Standing over them was Talon.
He had not drawn a weapon, yet devastation lay at his feet.
“You will explain,” Talon said calmly, “why you engaged an unbound beyond your sanctioned perimeter.”
The taller Veythar choked, his face turning a bruised purple as a black, wispy form wrapped tightly around his throat.