15. Chapter Fifteen: Luka
An hour before noon, a soldier wearing a snarling skull mask enters the tent, binds Luka's wrists, and blindfolds him. When Luka protests, the soldier muffles his words with a hand. "I thought you decided to trust me?" Octavian's voice brushes Luka's ear as he forces Luka from the tent.
"Where are you taking me?" Luka hisses.
"I think you know where," Octavian unhelpfully replies. Their boots crunch in unison across the frozen ground as Octavian guides a blinded Luka across the camp.
"I thought we were supposed to wait until evening?" a soldier asks as Octavian pushes Luka ahead.
"Plan has changed," Octavian says, voice cast in an oddly gruff manner. "Don't want to question Sevell Hunter's orders."
"Understood, sir," the unfamiliar soldier replies, and Luka rolls his eyes, easily able to picture the Kiteran's salute in response.
Luka struggles to keep track of their direction as Octavian pushes him through camp. His vision narrows to the tiny patch of land he can make out next to his right foot, and it is only the occasional splash of pale brown grass that helps ground him. Even with that guide, when they come stumbling to a halt, it still takes Luka an instant to realize where they are headed.
"You're taking me –" Luka begins, but Octavian hushes him again as the gleam of daylight fades.
The patch of grass turns dark beneath the shadow of the wall of Cesscounthe. They walk for some time, Octavian starting and stopping in bursts. Likely to avoid being spotted by the Aiutani posted on the wall. In the distance, Luka hears the sound of running water – yes, it is as he suspected.
Octavian has brought Luka to the wall surrounding Cesscounthe – to one of the hidden entrances Luka told the Kiterans about. Chills creep down Luka's arms as he steps forward, fear drying his mouth.
A door creaks open and Octavian carelessly escorts Luka inside. Ambient light vanishes completely, and Luka stumbles.
"Humans," Octavian grumbles and finally removes the blindfold.
Still bound at the wrist, Luka looks around, blinking.
A decade has left the tunnel unchanged. Just as it has been the day his mother took him through this passage to pray to Thought above his dead brother's secret grave and promise to prove himself to the Lockehart legacy, Luka finds the underground damp and chilly, the same as the very soil his brother had been laid to rest in. Only the faintly glowing lichen casts a pale blue light against the dirt walls, highlighting a path that once was carved into the dirt by centuries of walking, but now has faded from recent decades of disuse. The tunnels were to be a last resort for nobles to escape the city, and after generations of being a well-guarded secret, most who knew of them took said secret to their graves.
Linne Lockehart only knew of the one winding path that led from the Abraxi District to the outer wall. Thrice, she had taken the wrong turn, and her hand had grown damp in Luka's grip. "Another cave-in," she'd muttered.
But surely there are many other paths hidden here. A cautious hope lights in his chest as Luka's eyes adjust. He searches for Xyla. "Where is she?" he asks, voice breathless, when he finds Octavian and himself alone. A skull winks from a pile of rocks, and the pale yellow of a femur rests beneath a clutch of lichen. Luka swallows, his throat dry as gooseflesh rises on his arms. There is a faint sound from the tunnel ahead – like the dripping of water or footsteps, heading away from them.
"Your friends?" Octavian asks, removing his mask. "The other prisoners have already been sent ahead. I couldn't sneak all of you out at once, of course. I'm good – but not that good."
The dust on the path has clearly been disturbed – but then what had that soldier meant by I thought we were supposed to wait until this evening?
The answer seems far too plain, and Luka narrows his eyes, his vision sharpening.
Has he taken me here to kill me?
Luka will only have one advantage against the Kiteran should Octavian decide to attack; he will have to use his monster.
His skin shudders at the thought of fur creeping across it – of fangs bursting from his mouth and snapping toward Octavian's qneck –
Bile rises in Luka's throat and he shakes himself. No – even with someone like Octavian, Luka wouldn't be able to attack. He couldn't think of his life as a measure of how many he would need to kill to escape – he couldn't even think of it as a measure of how many he would save if – when – he gets out of this and warns his people.
No.Flashes of the hunt his father had taken him on so many years ago dart through him. Never run, Carlo had said.
I'm sorry, Papa – but sometimes you have no choice.After all, Luka knows these tunnels better than any Kiteran. He will be able to escape.
I can do this.
The two walk down the tunnel. Octavian chuckles with every misstep Luka makes, and Luka's hands tighten into fists as he narrowly avoids tumbling into an enormous mining shaft to his right. Had he fallen, his body would have been lost to the underground spring rushing beneath. He shudders.
"Will I see Xyla here?" Luka asks, his voice echoing against the rounded walls.
"Yes – you will see both your friends," Octavian replies, and Luka's mouth goes dry. Maybe he had been wrong to suspect. Maybe Octavian is telling the truth –
But Luka doesn't have the time to contemplate such things, for the next few footfalls take him around a corner and there, standing at the heart of a tall cavern, are Xyla Mobiele and Evland Childes. They've been left bound – and though Evland lies on the floor, unmoving, Xyla looks unharmed.
And, standing across from them, one impatient hand on her hip and the other placed imperiously on her stomach, is Linne Lockehart.
"Good," Linne says when she spots them. She should look small standing in such a huge hollow, a single woman against weeping stalactites cast in pale cerulean and dressed in a ridiculous amount of layers against the caves' chill, but instead she takes up the space with a mere tilt of her chin. "You finally brought him."
"Did you think we got lost?" Octavian asks, the lilt of his voice still airy.
Luka is seized with a sense of unreality seeing the two speak to each other. He struggles to contain his confusion, instead focusing on Xyla. Under close examination, there is a bruise on her cheek, like someone has backhanded her. Her wrists and ankles are both bound, and she stiffens when Octavian speaks.
"Mother," Luka begins, unsure what to say – if he should even talk.
Linne finally graces him with a passing glance. "Well," she says. "You're all in one piece at least."
"I should go," Octavian says. "We have a schedule to stick to."
Schedule?Luka spins, confused, but Octavian is already hurrying into the darkness, back the way they came.
Back toward camp.
Back toward – him.
What if Theo had a hand in all of this? What if the Kiterans have been able to trick his mother – one of the smartest people Luka has ever known – and they've just walked into a trap? No. That can't be it. Octavian has made an alliance with his mother. His mother has promised him power. And since she has won her position as a council member, she can easily grant it.
And in return, Octavian has brought him and the other prisoners.
But Luka was never such an important bargaining piece to Linne. So why –
Luka meets Xyla's unfocused gaze – there's an odd film over her eyes. She offers him the smallest of smiles.
"Son," Linne says, and Luka stiffens. Automatically, his shoulders roll back and down, spine straightening out of its habitual slouch. Even a month as a prisoner of the Kiterans can't shake old habits.
Linne draws her velvet robes around her, bundling them tight across her stomach. "What knowledge do you have for me?"
Typical Linne. No questions of are you alright? Or did they hurt you?
Luka wishes he could say her apathy didn't still hurt.
"They are weak. Scattered," Luka says as he recites the insights he painstakingly gathered. Most of his information has already been conveyed via the messages he left for his mother, and he speaks for only a short time before falling to silence again.
Linne's scowl of disapproval cuts sharper than any knife ever could.
Before she can speak, Evland Childes sits up, blinking into consciousness. He gazes around the cavern with dismay before his eyes alight on Linne. Realization sharpens his focus. "Danessi Lockehart. You need to bring me to my mother," he orders.
Linne rolls her eyes. "I told you both to hush," she says. "And I don't need to do anything for you, boy."
"My father will reward you handsomely for –"
Linne's eyes flash, almost luminescent in the blue light of the lichen as she rounds on the man. "We are on a clock, boy. You hold value, but it is best you be silent."
Evland's face reddens. "How dare you!"
Linne raises a brow. "Speak again and see how much value you hold."
For all that Luka has no love for Evland, he still finds himself saying, "I – I have more."
Linne's eyes flash. "Go on."
"The – Wolf-Born, their leader, he has no love for the south – for the Balivartians." Luka stumbles as he tries to recall what Theo has said. "He has an enemy there – the Snake of the South, he called him."
Linne's brows raise and she smiles. "Oh, Luka. That is perfect. We can use the Third Blessed Prince, since he is your ally."
Luka's tense shoulders ease.
But Evland just can't keep his mouth shut. "My mother will insist –"
Before Evland can complete whatever order he is sure to unleash, Linne moves. She is almost impossibly fast, her soft shoes silent as a shadow across the damp stone. She stands with her back to Luka, facing Evland.
A strange, wet noise rings through the cavern. Evland Childes goes quiet.
Linne's arm jerks, as if trying to pull her hand free. "More difficult than I expected," she murmurs, her shaking voice cast so quietly, it's clearly meant for her ears alone. Xyla stares at the both of them with wide eyes, mouth falling open and lips shaking.
Linne pulls away from Evland with a squelch, her hand wet with blood. In her fist, she clutches a knife – but this isn't a blade designed to chop vegetables. Its serrated edge is outlawed in their city. Such a thing is designed only for violence. It gleams in the gloom, soaked with red.
Luka stares at her, frozen. This is a dream, he immediately thinks. It is the only explanation that makes any sense. Why else would his mother be committing such horrendous acts of violence – why else would Evland Childes be still sitting there, mouth still open, hand still pointedly raised, throat split like a grin?
Linne makes a noise of disgust as she shakes the blood from her blade. Seeing Evland hasn't fallen, she nudges him with her kidskin shoes so he crumples with a muffled thud. He gurgles and twitches. Blood soaks the lichen, turning its blue glow to purple.
"Mother?" Luka hears himself say distantly.
Linne wipes the blood on Evland's coat. The man gasps and goes still. She pauses for a moment, bracing her hand against the cavern wall. Her touch leaves a bloody imprint behind. "Good thing we're so close to the mineshaft. I won't be able to carry him far," she says once she finishes cleaning her weapon, rising from her crouch and returning the blade somewhere deep beneath the folds of her cloak. "Don't look like that, Luka. It's practice. I wouldn't want you to suffer like… this."
"Danessi Lockehart," Xyla begins.
Linne rounds on her. She draws the blade in half a breath. "Did you not hear me either, girl? We are on a clock. Speak again. I know that there are far more painful ways to die." She traces the round of her belly. "Yes – I've studied them; split the gut open and spill the intestines, it could take hours of excruciating pain. Slice the tendons of your ankles and the ligaments of your arms, you won't even be able to crawl. You'll starve before you die of blood loss, and you would beg for me to end things sooner." She smiles, briefly, though there is no pleasure in her face, only cold intent – no, that wasn't right.
Cold interest.
Xyla's eyes grow to moons as she stares at the woman. Linne traces the knife down Xyla's cheek, drawing a line of blood. The wound heals before she has even completed the stroke.
"But of course," Linne continues. "You're not human. Impyassus." She spits the word. "I could probably split you open down the middle and you would suffer – but survive… depending on how deeply I cut. The texts say the best way to end you is by removing your head from your body –"
"Mother," Luka says, horror coloring the single word. "What are you doing?"
"Come now, Luka," Linne says without looking away from Xyla. "You're a smart boy."
Her free hand alights on her stomach, a gentle caress, and Luka is taken back to their last dinner so long ago. His mother's illness – nausea she never would ordinarily experience. Symptoms that Luka has only seen once before –
When she was carrying Cassian.
A cold laugh leaks through Linne's lips when she sees Luka's eyes widen. "Oh, if only you were human," she says as she steps away from Xyla, staring at her son and shaking her head. "You are the best of your kind, Luka, truly, you are. Despite all of your faults and failures, there was true intelligence in you. If only that monster didn't corrupt it. No matter how many times we tried to have it beaten from you, it still seems you couldn't control it, could you? If you could've harnessed it, if you could've let your mind overpower the monster, I could have let you live."
And she's right. Even as she speaks now, Luka can feel his beast rising to the surface. With guilt, he recalls the strategy he made to escape Octavian only minutes before – even now, with all these years of practice and restraint, he still falls back upon what should be his greatest weakness.
Linne strokes her stomach. "I'll make sure this one isn't like you. Or like my eldest. Failures, the both of you. It's so unfortunate my sons died so young."
Xyla gasps. "You –"
Linne rounds on Xyla. Her expression morphs, just for an instant, and true anger turns her features monstrous. "Beast, speak once more and I will do my damndest to remove your pretty little head from your shoulders with this knife. It will not be a pleasant experience for either of us, I assure you."
"Don't speak to her like that," Luka shouts. He steps forward, slashing his hand across his body. "Why are you talking like this? What does it matter if you're – you're pregnant? Having more to carry on the Lockehart line should be a good thing –"
"A good thing?" Linne shakes her head. "Luka, don't you realize what you are? What your elder brother was?" She sighs and a look of exhaustion passes across her face, turning her skin gray. "What Cassian likely is as well?"
"Cassian is not an impyassus!"
"He failed the pre-exam. He will fail the Bombani Exam, just as Alessandro did. I will not have another failure in my family."
"Cassian won't fail," Luka shouts desperately. "I will make sure of it. I have been tutoring and working with him. I'm sure since I received a perfect score –"
Linne laughs coldly. "Oh, Luka," she says. "Do you still believe that lie?"
Time slows to a crawl and then a stop. Luka blinks, struggling to contain himself. "What?"
Linne approaches him. She touches his cheek, her fingers still sticky with blood, leaving behind a trail of red. "My son, my stupid, beastly boy – don't forget: you are a monster. You never could have passed."
Luka stares at his mother. Memories of hours, weeks – months – of preparation flash through his mind. The pain, the suffering, the silent, muffled tears rolling down his cheeks as he was endlessly drilled on facts, numbers, equations. The end of it all – the final piece – when he was placed before a Cesse board in the last round and allowed to regain all of the control he had lost.
Then – the test itself. The paper, unfamiliar beneath his fingers. The charcoal holder, too large for his fist. The way his heart had pounded the whole time, every smudge on the page another sign of his failures.
But he had passed. He had not only passed – he had been the second to receive a perfect score.
He succeeded. He had finally – finally, finally, finally – brought pride to his family.
Linne sighs. "It took money," she says,and Luka hears the words distantly. They echo through his skull. "And strings were pulled. Oh, the favors I had to work through. The people we had to get rid of when we finally reintroduced you to society!"
She raises Luka's chin. He hadn't even realized he had dropped his head. "You understand, don't you?"
Time might have stopped for Luka's heart, but it hasn't for his mind. "You swapped the tests. You changed my test with another's." His voice sounds so far away to his ears.
Linne shakes her head. "That's what I don't understand," she says. "Why is it that you can appear so smart, and yet still be so stupid?"
"Who?"
"Who? Luka – that doesn't matter. Whoever the poor boy was, he failed. He was made an Aiutani. That's how poor your results were."
Each word is another blow to Luka's heart. He closes his eyes against the burn growing there, struggling to speak around the knot in his throat. "You're – you're lying –"
A slap lands against his cheek and Luka's eyes fly open, stunned. Linne stares at him, her face apathetic despite the blow. She glares at her hand, as if disappointed in its loss of control, before saying, "I'm telling you the Thought-damned truth for the first time in your life. The least you can do is listen."
Linne stares at him, her eyes impossibly dark. "Your elder brother was an impyassus. He failed the pre-exam. We knew that he would fail the Bombani Exam. We couldn't have that stain on our family." She laughs, cold. "Did you know, they thought I cheated on Carlo? Two brilliant people can't have a stupid child – so obviously the woman is at fault! My children always find ways to sully my reputation, no matter how hard I try.
"We thought, at the time, that we could start again with you – with Cassian." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, correcting her flawless updo. "So it was safe to dispose of him."
"Dispose of him?" Xyla cries, rising to her knees, still bound at her wrists and ankles. Her amber eyes bore into Linne, a flicker of the beast rising to the surface. "You killed your own son?"
"Of course," Linne says, still holding Luka's gaze. "He wasn't human. He wasn't my son. He was simply something I carried in my womb and then had to bury in the ground. A monster can't hold the Lockehart name." She touches his cheek again. "Isn't that right, Luka?"
Luka struggles to hold her stare, but he finds himself gazing at his feet again. He finds himself dragged back to those memories – standing before his brother's grave, his mother's grip on his face as she hissed that he mustn't fail.
"But I didn't pass the exam," he whispers. "Why…?"
Linne scoffs. "Carlo. So soft. He grew attached. Couldn't administer the drug." She carves blood from beneath her nails. "I've always had better control of myself."
Papa.Luka closes his eyes, remembering his father's embrace. I'll take care of you, Luka. Don't be afraid.
"But I can dispose of you now without him knowing. Threatening to turn me into the authorities, the fool. Like he thought I wouldn't find a way around him." Linne offers Luka a small, controlled smile. "Can you imagine what your death will do for my political career? There is nothing the people love more than a strong leader, working through a terrible tragedy. Why – the Childes family will be an even worse rival now that their son is dead." She gestures to Evland's body.
Luka is dimly aware of how his breaths rake in and out of his lungs. The world narrows to a single point. He can't look away from his mother's face. Xyla shouts something, but he can't hear it above the pounding of his heart.
"Cassian…?" Luka begins, unable to finish the question.
"Your brother has less than a year to prove himself. If I find another failed Bombani Exam on my doorstep, I won't abide it." She pauses as Luka feels his face contort. His eyes overflow, hot streams of tears flowing down his cheeks. "Oh, don't look at me like that, child. This is the way of things: the strong survive. The weak are the pedestal we must stand upon. For a while, you might have thought you were one of us, but you were only a brief replacement."
She touches her stomach, face softening. "I can feel it. This one – this one will be the best of all of you."
"Cassian only has months left," Luka says.
"Months, yes." She shakes her head, apathetic. "All this careful breeding, and it still resulted in three impyassi. It is disappointing your father's strong bloodline couldn't overwrite the Lockehart curse."
Something burns at Luka's throat, and for a moment, he thinks it's that he can't swallow. He thinks it's the breaths caught there, struggling to burst free.
But then he realizes that Linne has pressed the knife to the expanse of his neck. Warm blood flows down his collarbone, soaking into his Kiteran robes. For some reason, the thought of dying in a foreigner's clothes – clothes that aren't even his own – fills him with anguish.
"Don't touch him!" Xyla screams.
Luka's chin jerks up and the rest of the world snaps into focus. Xyla strains against her bonds. Her eyes flash and then fade back to human colors, fur rippling across her arms and then vanishing again. She meets Luka's gaze.
"They've done something to me!" she sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Why can't I change?"
Linne sighs and pats Luka's cheek. "Give me one second, child."
She walks to Xyla as Luka sinks to his knees. The world shakes around him and he struggles to remain upright.
Only months left. The words echo through his mind. Linne will kill Cassian in less than a year if he fails the Bombani Exam.
Flashes of Alessandro gleam through his mind's eye. A cold hand. A pile of churned dirt. An unmarked grave. The only sign of visitation a flattening of the greenery.
That will be what this woman will do to Cassian should he fail.
But what will she do to you now?
Xyla cries out and Luka jerks at the sound. "No!" he shouts as his mother sinks her blade into Xyla's stomach. "Don't worry," Linne says as Xyla falls to the ground, curled around the wound. Blood seeps from her, staining her clothes scarlet. "She won't die from this. Hopefully, it will teach her to follow her better's orders. Isn't that right, dear?" She taps Xyla's cheek with her shoe.
Xyla snaps at Linne's foot with lengthened fangs. Linne scowls. "This is why I never liked this girl, Luka," Linne says. "She's too willful. Hard to form." She looks back at him. "Not at all like you. So eager to please. So eager to shape. You were almost perfect, boy. But don't worry – I won't make the same mistakes with this one."
With those words, the world sharpens. Luka"s heartbeat still roars in his ears. His hands still shake. But his mind grows clear.
This will all happen again if you do nothing to stop it now.
We need to get out of here.
Linne came prepared. She came ready to face them.
Should we fight?Luka's eyes dart to Xyla. She remains curled on her side, groaning. No, whatever they have done to her – be it a drug or poison – it's effectively blocked her monster. She will be of no help here – not yet.
Briefly, Luka entertains the idea of using his own beast, but as quickly as the thought enters his mind, Luka shoves it away.
He couldn't do that. He couldn't summon his beast against his mother.
We run.
It would be more difficult than fleeing from Octavian. Xyla is injured.
Luka needs more time to think of a plan – to think of a distraction.
"How can you be so sure you can trust Octavian?" he asks. "He is a – a beast, after all." A stupid question. What if she realizes what I'm doing?
"You should have figured that out," Linne chides, ticking her finger at him. Luka's shoulders slump with relief as she continues to speak; she hadn't realized his plan because she suspects nothing more from him. "The Kiterans provided us with the perfect opportunity.
"I'm already on the Council – your disappearance helped with my election. The people ate my speech up. And Cesscounthe will need leaders after this siege. We will need people to negotiate a treaty." Linne paces as she talks and Luka's eyes shoot to Xyla. Her wound has yet to heal, but she meets his gaze, her arms bulging as she wears her bonds to nothing with a quiet snap.
I'm not leaving you,Luka thinks as he meets her stare. Xyla shakes her head slightly, but Luka sets his jaw.
We're getting out of this. Together.
They don't look to where Evland Childes' body lies, unmoving.
"It's the perfect platform," Linne continues. "Now, my son murdered and I still broker peace to help our people. That has an even better ring, doesn't it? Finally, the Lockehart line will have something to be proud of."
"You should have brought a bigger blade," Luka says, his eyes drifting to the knife.
I just need to buy enough time for Xyla to heal. Just wait a few moments more. He looks to Xyla again and subtly jerks his chin to the caves behind him. They will head back the way they came. In her beast form and Luka in his Kiteran clothes, they can blend in with the soldiers waiting outside of Cesscounthe's walls.
The Kiterans. Linne made an alliance with them – will the Cesscounthe he knew survive this battle? Who else has Linne sacrificed to keep her power safe?
"Oh, this knife?" Linne says, turning the blade so it catches the blue light of the lichen. "Luka, I might be cold, but I'm not cruel. This was the best I could get on the black market, but I'm not going to use this to take your life. I'm just waiting for backup."
A cold feeling seizes him. Backup?
He looks to Xyla again. She presses herself to her elbows. Not healed enough to flee, but enough to move. They're running out of time.
Linne remains focused on Luka, her eyes intent.
"Why not just ask Octavian to kill me? You need him to dispose of our bodies, don't you?" Luka asks, forcing himself to his feet. He thinks of the mineshaft he nearly tumbled into. This is why Linne has brought them here. It is the best place to hide their deaths. He finds himself moving, matching his mother's stride. They circle each other, unable to look away. Luka is careful to keep her attention fixed on him.
"My trust in the beast can only go so far."
"And yet you've allied yourself with those beasts you hate so much."
Linne smiles patiently. "A greater evil is easy enough to choose when it means I can see the salvation of our beautiful city. I will lead us to a new age, an age when we are finally rid of our old beasts' blood. We will hunt all of the monsters and eliminate those incapable of intelligent thought. Think of it, Luka. I know you've imagined it too – a city without suffering. A city without blemishes."
Xyla climbs to her feet. Fur ripples down her arms before vanishing into her skin. She shakes her head. The drug is still in effect – she can't change.
"You think the Kiterans will allow that? They love their beasts," Luka says desperately when his mother follows his gaze. Linne looks back at him, offering a smile.
"They will let us do as we wish. Cesscounthe will be clean. They need us – our intellect. The Kiterans are bloodthirsty; they're eager to conquer. They want to go after the South next, you realize. You and I both know Hessalar is divided with all of their Blessed Heirs. Balivartia will fall at their hand. They want vengeance for the border skirmishes they've lost. And with our alliance, we'll be able to win – together."
"We are a nonviolent people," Luka begins. Linne scoffs.
"Nonviolent people? We are an intellectual people. We swore ourselves to nonviolence to fight off the beast, but with those bloodlines extinguished, we are capable of change. We can spread the word of Thought and save others from the corruption in their country and minds."
Xyla touches her stomach, wiping the blood away and revealing whole and healed flesh.
It will have to do.
Luka needs to deliver the final blow.
He approaches his mother, dragging his feet to hide the noise of Xyla creeping across the ground, heading for the tunnel from where they came.
Linne's hands tighten around the knife, but she stills as Luka approaches.
Luka's heart rattles his ribs as he raises his hand. He forces fear from his face, softening his expression. He rehearses his words carefully before he lets them pass his lips, weighing them with just the right amount of hurt, the right of amount of spite:
"Did you ever love me?"
Linne's face contorts at the question, but before Luka can parse any of the emotions that flicker across her face, she has gone still again. She raises her chin, blood-red lips curling into a smile. "Oh, my boy," she murmurs. "You are so much like your mother."
Luka steps close enough to smell her; her perfume, heavy and floral, her sweat – Evland's blood on her hands. He raises his arms as if to pull her into a final embrace.
As she approaches, he watches where she places her weight. He remembers what Theo had taught him the night after the attack –
When he moves, he does so quickly and without thought. He rears back and slams his foot onto her ankle.
Linne's shriek echoes against the walls of the cavern, the cry not even muffling the sound of her ankle snapping. She falls to the ground, clutching her wounded leg, and Luka sprints toward a wide-eyed Xyla.
"Run!" he cries breathlessly, catching her hand with his.
They turn to sprint back into the caverns. The world howls around them, like a fox in his ears. Luka remembers running like this before, as a child, on the hunt with his father at his side. The red tails of their prey darting in the distance, the weight of the fuille in his hands. Their footsteps ring through the caves as they flee –
Xyla cries out and Luka looks back just in time to see her fallen. A knife sprouts from her leg. Linne tears up behind her, eyes bulging. Luka shouts, torn. Xyla gestures him away – but he can't leave her. He could never leave her. He fumbles for another solution, whirling around –
– only to run into a rock-hard chest. Luka tumbles down, arms tangled with arms, legs tangled with legs. He lands on a body, a warm body that feels like he has just jumped into safety, home, a warm blanket, and a steaming mug all wrapped into one. A scent hugs him all around, sweeping away his fear for a handful of desperate heartbeats before it returns twofold.
Theo.