The narrow crevice seemed endless, jagged rocks scraping their backs as they inched forward, their ragged breaths echoing off the stone. Distant shouts of Gwari soldiers spurred them on. When they finally emerged, gasping, the craggy face of Buje Mountain brought a fleeting sense of relief.

"We made it!" Aminu whispered, his voice barely audible over his panting breath, as he glanced around, recognizing the path they'd taken earlier. For a fleeting moment, it felt like they'd escaped, like they'd managed the impossible.

But the relief was cruelly short-lived.

The sharp crackle of dry twigs underfoot snapped them back to reality. The sound was followed by a low, guttural shout, and as they spun around, their hearts sank. Shadows moved within the dark mouth of the crevice they had just squeezed through. One by one, the Gwari soldiers emerged, smoke clinging to their clothes, their eyes gleaming with fury. The soldiers were like ghosts rising from a burning tomb, their swords drawn and glinting menacingly in the dimming light.

The acrid stench of smoke reached Mairo's nose, and she turned to see thick, dark plumes curling up from the crevice, spilling out into the open like a dark, angry beast. Her breath hitched. The fire she had set was spreading, its smoke snaking through the mountainside, filling the air with the pungent scent of burning tar and dried grass. The Gwari camp was aflame, but so too was the narrow passage they had just escaped through.

"Run!" Jibril shouted, his voice cutting through the rising chaos. "We have to get back to the ledge!"

The three of them turned and sprinted up the rocky path, their legs burning from the strain. Their shoes scraped against loose stones, sending pebbles skittering down the mountain as they pushed themselves to move faster. The path was steep, unforgiving, and every muscle in their bodies screamed in protest. But the pounding footsteps behind them, growing louder, kept them moving.

Mairo's heart was a drum, beating a frantic rhythm that pounded in her ears. She dared a glance over her shoulder and saw the Gwari soldiers gaining on them, their faces twisted with rage. One of the men had already raised his sword, the blade catching the last rays of the setting sun, making it gleam like a deadly silver arc.

"We're not going to outrun them!" Aminu gasped, his voice edged with panic. "They're faster!"

Jibril's mind raced, his eyes scanning the terrain for anything, any advantage they could use. "We don't need to outrun them," he said, his voice sharp and steady. "We just need to slow them down."

Mairo understood instantly. She reached into her robe, her fingers closing around the last pellet Aminu had given her — the one he had insisted on keeping as a last resort. With a swift, practiced motion, she threw it behind them, watching as it skidded across the rocky path and exploded in a burst of thick, acrid smoke. The smoke ballooned outwards, a dark, suffocating cloud that swallowed up the path and the soldiers chasing them. Coughs and curses echoed through the haze as the Gwari men stumbled, momentarily blinded and disoriented.

"That won't hold them for long!" Jibril shouted, urging Aminu to keep moving as they clawed their way up the steep incline, their hands finding purchase on the rough, craggy stones.

The mountain felt endless, each step an eternity, but finally, the three of them crested a small ridge that led back to the ledge they had used to survey the camp earlier. Below, they could see the Gwari camp engulfed in chaos; tents were ablaze, smoke billowing into the sky, horses running wild, their shrill cries cutting through the night.

Mairo's lungs burned, and she struggled to catch her breath, but she forced herself to focus. They weren't out of danger yet. The Gwari soldiers were still behind them, and the smoke cloud wouldn't last forever. Her mind whirled, trying to find a way, any way, to keep them from being caught. Then she saw it — a narrow rock shelf jutting out along the side of the mountain, leading to a small outcropping that could serve as a temporary hiding spot. It was risky, but it was better than facing the swords that gleamed in the hands of their pursuers.

"There!" she pointed, and without waiting for a response, she led the way, skirting along the precarious edge, the drop below threatening to swallow them whole if they made a wrong move.

Jibril followed, his hands steadying Aminu, who was slipping on the loose gravel. The path was treacherous, but they moved with the desperate grace of those who knew there was no other choice. They reached the outcropping just as the smoke below began to clear, revealing the dark figures of the soldiers once more.

Mairo looked down at the camp, and a bittersweet feeling washed over her. She had succeeded — the Gwari supply lines were disrupted, their camp in disarray. But their mission might still end in failure if they were caught here, cornered on the side of Buje Mountain with nowhere left to run. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, trying to steady her racing heart.

"Wait," Jibril said suddenly, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the terrain below. "Look!"

Mairo and Aminu followed his gaze. Through the haze, they saw a figure emerge — a man on horseback, wearing the distinctive robes of the Gwari commanders. His voice carried over the distance, barking orders, his tone sharp and commanding. As he spoke, the soldiers seemed to hesitate, glancing between the smoky chaos of the camp and the steep path where they stood, as if torn between continuing the chase and returning to restore order.

For a moment, it felt like time had stopped. The mountain was silent except for the crackle of distant flames and the wind whispering through the rocks. Then, slowly, reluctantly, the Gwari soldiers began to retreat, their steps faltering as they backed away, their eyes fixed warily on the three figures perched above them.

"They're leaving," Aminu breathed, barely daring to believe it. "They're actually leaving."

Jibril's brow furrowed, eyes still fixed on the retreating soldiers. "But why? What made them stop?"

Aminu let out a shaky, relieved laugh, his shoulders sagging. "Does it matter? Just be thankful we're still breathing."

Mairo didn't let herself relax just yet, not until the last of the soldiers had disappeared back down the mountain. When they were finally alone, she slumped against the rocks, exhaustion washing over her like a wave. She met Jibril's eyes, and for the first time that night, she allowed herself a small, triumphant smile.

"We did it," she whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the wind. "We actually did it."

Jibril grinned back, his expression a mix of relief and disbelief. "Let's just hope it was worth it."

Aminu, still catching his breath, chuckled weakly. "Next time, can we find a plan that doesn't involve almost getting killed?"

Mairo and Jibril exchanged a look before replying in unison. "Again, this was your idea!"

As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, casting the mountain in shadows, the three of them huddled together, taking a moment to appreciate the rare stillness. They had faced the impossible, and against all odds, they had emerged on the other side. For now, that was enough.

But Mairo couldn't shake the question: why had the Gwari men retreated?

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