Casimir

The ground trembles violently, throwing me into the wall as the walls shudder in protest. Dust and debris rains from the ceiling as light flashes through the cells. I move to cover my head, wrapping my cuffed hands over the back of my neck as another explosion rattles the cells. Dust sucks into my lungs, choking me.

Dust falls. Silence ensues. The only sound is the piercing squeal inside my ears.

It takes me several seconds to register the sensation of a hand on my shoulder, shaking me.

"Get up." The voice is distant, secondary to the squealing in my ear. "Casimir, get up!"

The hand forces me to turn. Killian stands over me, hands still cuffed and bleeding. His shirt is torn, dark hair sweeping across his forehead as his chest rises and falls. Light filters through the entrance to the prison cells, dust clouding the air around him as streams of light highlight the outline of his frame.

In my disoriented state, he looks like an avenging angel. I try to rise to my feet, slightly wobbly as I stumble back down. My hands, still cuffed together, fail to catch me. On my back, I stare past Killian to the source of the light.

The entrance to the cells has been blown off.

"Get up," he demands again, his voice gradually growing stronger than the piercing in my ears.

I rise to my feet, leaning against the wall of the cell just as a figure appears at the top of the stairs leading out.

"Killian," I say, inhaling dust. He follows my gaze to the door, shoulders tensing a moment as the silhouetted figure steps down the stairs.

"Well," the voice calls, low and gravelly. "You comin'?"

"Draigh," Killian murmurs, forgetting me entirely and marching towards the entrance. He becomes a mere silhouette too as he embraces our rescuer. "Took you long enough," he comments dryly. "I've been rather hungry down here."

Draigh grumbles a laugh. I move towards them, my fingers twitching for my sides where I usually keep a weapon. As I get closer, the squealing in my ears subsides, giving way to the shouts outside. Draigh, an older male with long hair and a wicked scowl, eyes me up, displeased.

He looks at Killian. "Making a habit of rescuing strays, Killian?"

Killian shoots me an apologetic look, one I'm not so sure is genuine when I notice the small grin he returns to Draigh. I don't bother responding to his quip. Instead, I raise my cuffed hands to Draigh. "Wouldn't mind a rescue from these."

Before I realise what he's doing, Draigh lurches forward and wrenches the cuffs apart with his two bare hands. The chains fall to the ground. I rub my wrists, noting the angry red skin beneath and watch as Draigh uses a cloth to cover his hands before wrenching Killian's silver cuffs off.

Killian releases a sigh of relief as his cuffs fall away. My stomach churns at the sight of his wrists, bloodied and raw, thick indents left in his skin. Averting my gaze, I stare towards the entrance where the dust lingers.

"Which unit are you with?" Killian asks.

"Byrnn's," Draigh responds, straightening his shoulders as he responds to Killian. "They're causing a distraction... well, several."

"Sanaa?"

"Safe."

"And the camp?"

"We had to relocate. Sanaa will fill you in. If we want to get out of there, we have to go now, before the guards come searching."

"What about Samu and Cadence?" I ask before either of them can turn away. Draigh stares at me, the straight face he'd spoken to Killian with slipping away. "The young boy that was in your protection and the girl we brought with us, the blonde one."

"That girl is, unfortunately, still with us."

"And Samu?"

"Him too."

My stomach settles somewhat. "Awake?"

"No."

I let out a sigh. I'd expected as much, but I can't help the disappointment settling in my stomach.

"Come on," Killian says. "We should get moving."

We don't waste another second talking. Following Draigh through the entrance, we come above ground. The corridor that once connected to our cells now lies as a tableau of destruction. On shaky feet, I move after Killian, my mind piecing together the explosion. Smoke billows from the collapsed entrance, rubble litters the ground. I cover my mouth with the bottom of my shirt, coughing the dust from my lungs.

Through the dust and debris, I can't see farther than a few feet ahead as I try to orient myself. The sounds of distant shouts and battle ensue in the dusty land.

"There!" Draigh shouts. I follow his finger, just able to make out the dip where two mountain peaks create a V shape where they meet. It sparks a memory of the tunnels we followed Freya through when Elex and I came through.

My heart tightens at the memory, but I shove thoughts of Elex away. I cannot let thoughts of him distract me.

Starting forward, an ear splitting explosion rings throughout the clearing. I duck to the ground, covering my head as I did in the cells as rubble flies over our heads, landing haphazardly around us. The explosion reverberates throughout the clearing, sending tremors beneath my body. As it subsides and I rise my head, panic surges within me. Our exit plan towards the tunnels is now blocked by the overturned earth, piled up on top of each other.

I find Draigh and Killian, brushing the dust from their clothes as they take in the obstacle.

"We'll have to go around," I say.

"There's a whole hoard of guards on the other side of the courtyard. We'll never make it," Draigh points out.

"We have no choice," Killian says.

Driagh stares at me with a sharp gaze, as if trying to figure out whether or not to trust me. But it doesn't matter, Killian has already shot off in the other direction. Heart pounding, I follow him as we navigate the rubble towards the courtyard. Sounds of footsteps echoes off the stone floor, shouts bouncing through the rubble, reminding us of the danger around each corner.

Emerging into an open space, Killian ducks behind an overturned stone. My breath catches at the sight of the guards scrambling, their shouts echoing around the clearing.

I scan the area for alternate routes. "There," I nod towards a path shrouded in shadows. "That way."

We move with precision, inching along the edge of the courtyard, using every scrap of cover to shield ourselves from prying eyes. My heart hammers in my chest, each step a silent plea to go unnoticed.

Ahead, Draigh motions for us to halt, his sharp eyes fixed on a patrol passing dangerously clothes. Pressing into the rubble, I don't dare breathe as they sweep past. The guards fade into the distance and we continue, navigating the treacherous terrain of the palace grounds. My adrenaline surges as seconds stretch to hours.

Ahead, my eyes catch onto a dip in the earth to our right. Part of the structure of the hall is still intact, the red carpet inside stained black with soot. I halt, staring at the familiar corridor. It leads down a set of stairs.

"Come on," Killian urges. "We have to go."

I meet his eye, nodding to the intact hall. He follows my gaze, expression hardening as he realises what I'm thinking. "They won't survive. We can't help them."

I shake my head. I know that, but that's not what I want to do. Freya rises to my mind. In the weeks she mourned the loss of her father, I held her in my arms as she sobbed, fed her, made sure she was taken care of. And when the grief turned to rage, I watched helpless as the desire for rescue overtook her. Every waking second she spent devising a plan to save Samu. I awoke to her nightmares frequently, followed her through the forge when she thought she was alone.

I'd known her nearly all my life, so I saw the loss in who she was when she lost her family. Her softness, optimism, sense of self-preservation--they died when her father did.

And it killed me.

"I have to know what she was going to say. The Kinjri."

His expression flashes with frustration. "We don't have time."

"Freya will never forgive me if I give up the chance to find out how to help Samu."

"Freya will never forgive you if you die." He marches towards me. "If you walk away, that's it. There'll be no more rescues. You'll be on your own." He grabs my bicep, grip painfully tight as his dark eyes meet mine, a warning resting in their depths. "Don't be a fool, Casimir."

Draigh calls his name, but Killian doesn't look away from me. His intense gaze sweeps my face, any semblance of that frustrating smirk replaced by pursed lips and flared nostrils.

I meet his gaze. "I don't take orders from you."

He releases my arm. Without another glance, I turn on my heel and head for the hole in the earth.