The Stableboy's shadow (BL)

Chapter 11

Riley's feet were pounded the ground so loudly it made him cringe, as if his legs had conspired to crush every branch and leaf in his path—so unlike his usual stealth. He moved with the chaotic flow of shadow-haters scrambling to find Percevin, all still unaware their prisoner had slipped free.

Riley had to choose: eliminate them one by one as they rushed past, or go after the servant boy himself. Normally, picking them off would've been preferable— but he didn't think he could manage to beat eight people. His breathing was erratic, his head was spinning from the hit he took earlier. The adrenaline masking his pain was slowly wearing off.

He paused by a tree, stealing a breath and glancing down at the Nully cuff on his wrist. He could unlock it, but his shadows could very well overload him and it could cost precious minutes during which Percevin might be caught. Worse, in his current daze, there was no guarantee his powers would help him at all

He decided against it, pushed off the tree, and broke into a jog. His broken hand stayed tucked against his chest; the other clutched tightly to a dagger hilt. The sound of rushing water reached him just as the first clash of swords rang out—and adrenaline surged. He sprinted.

This was bad. If he had to fight now, he didn't think he wouldn't survive it.

A cry of pain followed the blows—definitely not Percy's voice. Then came a roar of rage and the sound of a blade cutting flesh. Riley ran faster, bursting from the trees.

A small clearing opened around the river. Riley arrived just in time to see the would-be knight cross the last stretch of water and scramble onto the far shore, still running. Behind him, a man knelt clutching a wounded arm. Two other shadow-haters rushed to him, just as they glimpsed the boy vanish into the woods again. They were about to jump into the river when the wounded man shouted.

"Stop", he growled through clenched teeth. "No use having all of us chase him. The bigger threat's still at the cart. Have Trevor cast a perimeter barrier. Help me up, Liam—we're heading back to the road. Send the others after the boy."

The two men exchanged a grim, reluctant glance before obeying. One helped the injured man up and started back toward the road; the other jogged into the forest to rally the others.

Riley hadn't realized he had been holding his breath until the dizziness returned. He crouched behind a tree, waiting for their footsteps to fade into distant rustling before slipping down to the river. The cold water hit him like a blessing. He exhaled a soft groan of relief, then soundlessly submerged into the shoulder-deep current. Foolishly, he took a moment to swipe his good hand across his clothes, knocking off a week's worth of caked mud and dust. He even rubbed his face and hair. He figured he had a minute—maybe less—before the others circled back.

He was climbing out of the river when a deep hum of magic rippled through the air, just as the sky burned with sunset. Even with the cuff, he could feel it—a ward forming, stretching for leagues. They were trapped until the mage's focus broke.

Riley followed the trail of snapped branches and scattered droplets Percevin go through and managed to do so without making too much noise. According to the speed the boy would be moving at and where the wall of magic went down, it wouldn't be long before he'd reach it.

Percevin ran without direction—only away. He ducked branches and skirted stumps, careful not to make too much noise so he could hear his pursuers behind him. Just as the sounds of their breath began to fade, he slammed into something solid. His head snapped back, and he nearly toppled. For a moment, he thought it was a branch—but there was nothing there. Slowly, he raised a hand and felt the chill of magic under his fingers. The surface was smooth, like invisible ice. He searched along it, hoping for a gap, a flaw—nothing.