Bounty
A loud scream jolted me awake. My head spun as I tried to collect myself. I pushed myself off the thin mattress, straining to hear the muffled voices outside the apothecary.
My heart skipped. Had someone found the body? I froze, unwilling to step outside. The old man wasn't in the room, I hoped he hadn't led anyone here. Kumbuye was still asleep, but I needed him awake if trouble had come.
"Kumbuye… hey, Kumbuye…" I whispered, shaking him gently.
His eyes fluttered open, adjusting slowly to the dim light. "Hey… are you alright?" I asked, forcing calm into my voice.
"Dana," he murmured.
I hurried to a corner, grabbed a clay cup, and poured water from a bowl, bringing it to his lips. He drank slowly, wincing as he tried to sit up.
The noise outside was rising, urgency pressing in. I had to make him face reality.
"I'm sorry, Kumbuye," I said quickly, my voice tight. "There's no time to rest. We have to leave."
Just then, the old man rushed back into the apothecary, his face drained of colour.
"A woman found the body," he whispered, trembling. "The guards are coming. They'll search every shop." He lowered his voice even further, though we were alone. "You need to leave. Now."
Before I could respond, the sound of hooves thundered through the street. Not one, not two, not even twenty. Dozens. The ground itself seemed to shake.
"It's too late," the old man cried, panic overtaking him. He rushed across the room and yanked open a wooden plank in the floor, revealing a narrow underground space, barely wide enough for two bodies. "Hide. Go inside."
I hesitated.
He cracked the door open and peered outside. His face went pale.
"Go in," he hissed sharply. "They're here."
We had no choice. I grabbed Kumbuye, easing him down with me into the cramped space. It was suffocating, tight enough that I could barely breathe, but if it kept us alive — even for a moment — we would endure it.
The plank slid shut just as the guards burst into the shop.
"May… may I help you?" the old man said, his voice wavering.
From beneath the floor, I listened.
"Have you seen this man and this woman?" one of the guards asked.
Silence followed. My heart slammed against my ribs. My power stirred, restless, pulsing beneath my skin.
"Yes," the old man finally replied. "They were here yesterday. The man was wounded. I treated him."
"And the woman?" another guard pressed.
"She paid for the treatment," he said. "They left last night. Is something wrong?"
My breath caught.
"And you don't know where they went?"
"No," he answered calmly. "I treated the man, collected my payment, and they left."
Moments passed — long, unbearable moments — before the sound of boots retreated and the hooves faded into the distance.
The plank lifted. Light spilled in.
"You've put me in danger by coming here," the old man said quietly as he helped us out. "They must never see me with you again. Once you leave, don't come back."
He handed us two thick, black hooded cloaks, enough to cover our faces.
"Thank you so much. Your kindness will be repaid," I said, trying to sound grateful.
"I don't want repayment," the old man said quickly. "I just want you out of my shop. Please."
I held Kumbuye's arm, though he could walk, limping but steady. I gripped my bag tight against me. As soon as we stepped out of the apothecary, the chaos outside had quieted slightly, although the street still buzzed with fear and whispers.
We passed several corners, our hoods low, faces hidden. Kumbuye's pace was slow, cautious, each step deliberate. The fruit Roderick had given me the day before was tucked safely in my bag, we'd eat once we found a secure place.
Then I saw it. A poster. My heart froze.
The illustration was unmistakable: Kumbuye and I, drawn clearly, twenty gold coins for whoever brought us in alive, ten per head.
"Kumbuye," I whispered, pointing. "Look… that's us."
"We have to leave Noxara," he muttered, voice low but urgent.
I clenched my fists, dipping them into my bag. The compass pulsed, glowing brighter than before. The Cranium was close. That was the mission. My priority. We couldn't just abandon it.
We kept moving. Noxara was massive, and leaving unnoticed was impossible, especially now with a bounty on our heads. Every glance could be a threat. Every shadow, a potential trap.
And then I remembered the old man. He hadn't betrayed us. Despite the price on our heads, despite the danger, he had stayed loyal. The thought warmed me briefly, a fragile flicker of hope in the tightening tension.
We turned another corner, heads low, steps careful and Kumbuye collided with someone.
I looked up.
Roderick.
Recognition flashed in his eyes, followed instantly by that familiar smirk.
"So," he said, slow and pleased, "you tried to run from me, huh?" His gaze dragged over me. "You've got a bounty now. You'll make me very rich. I knew you were important."
Before I could react, his hand closed around my arm.
Kumbuye lunged, trying to shove him away, but his injury betrayed him. He was weak, starving, barely holding himself upright.
My power surged, hot and restless in my veins. I tried to force it down. I couldn't draw attention. I couldn't. I shoved Roderick back with all my strength and grabbed Kumbuye, turning to run.
Hands seized me from behind.
His men.
They grabbed me, dragged me back, forced Kumbuye to the ground. Panic ripped through me. My power thrashed, demanding release, clawing for blood and air and fire. I tried to suppress it, fought to keep it contained—
And then it broke free.
The force exploded outward. Wind howled, ripping through the street, slamming bodies into stalls and shops. Roderick and his men crashed to the ground. Kumbuye was thrown back with them, and the sight of him hitting the floor shattered something inside me.
"Kumbuye!" I rushed to him, my hands shaking, guilt crashing down on me.
A scream cut through the air, sharp and accusing. Eyes turned toward me, wide with disbelief and fear.
"Witch!" someone shouted.
My hood was ripped away, flung aside. Kumbuye's too.
"That's the bounty!" another voice screamed. "Get them!"
The crowd surged, a tide of shoving bodies and shouting voices. Panic clawed at my chest, my heart hammering as the chaos closed in from all sides.
I didn't think. I didn't choose. I didn't summon anything.
The Veil answered anyway.
The world folded, twisted, tore itself apart and we were gone.
When the ground steadied beneath my feet, I realised we were still in Noxara. Just somewhere else. Another corner of the same city.
I hadn't called the Veil. I hadn't pictured a destination.
My power had moved on its own, guided only by panic and instinct.
And that terrified me.
Kumbuye broke down beside me, his strength giving out all at once. Blood seeped through the dressing at his side. I lowered him carefully to the ground and rubbed the ointment into the wound, the one the old man had pressed into my hands before we left. He had even given us herbs and a potion for Kumbuye, to keep him stable.
I uncorked the potion and brought it to Kumbuye's lips. He drank it all, grimacing, then lay back against the stone, breathing hard.
"Okay," I whispered after a while. "Let's rest for a bit."
The corner was quiet, tucked away from the main streets. I hadn't seen anyone pass, so we stayed. We shared the fruit from my bag and drank what little water we had, neither of us speaking much.
When I reached for the compass again, its glow hadn't changed. I turned it slowly, searching for any shift, any sign, but it still pointed north.
After a moment, I looked at him. "Can you walk now?"
He let out a tired sigh. "I can try," he said. "Let's go."
Frustration gnawed at me, sharp and relentless. Everything was after me. The Forsaken. The Castle guards. The Castellan. Roderick. And now anyone desperate enough to chase a bounty. My life felt tangled beyond repair, yet through all of it, the Cranium still waited. Still demanded to be found.
The winter breeze had grown harsher, the cold biting through our clothes. Snow clung thickly to the ground, crunching beneath our feet. The hoods did little to keep us warm as we moved on.
We walked for hours, keeping far from the crowded streets, slipping through quieter paths where no one bothered to look twice. By the time the city sounds faded completely, the land began to change and soon, trees rose around us, dark and dense.
At last, we reached the edge of a forest.
The air there felt heavier, colder somehow, and unnervingly still. Snow dusted the branches above us, and the shadows between the trees stretched deep and unwelcoming. The cold wasn't just on my skin, it cut deeper, biting through cloth and bone.
"Let's rest here for the night," I said to Kumbuye, my voice already stiff from the chill.
The forest was thick, trees packed close together, their trunks dark and heavy with age. The canopy above blocked most of the wind, but the cold still crept in, curling around our ankles and settling in our chests. Every breath came out pale and sharp.
Kumbuye was shivering now, his teeth chattering despite the way he tried to hide it.
I gathered fallen branches from beneath the trees, dry ones that had been sheltered from the snow, and stacked them low. I channelled my power, careful, restrained, and willed a fire into being. When it finally caught, it burned small and stubborn, flickering against the cold rather than fighting it. The warmth was faint, barely enough, but it was something. Enough to keep us from freezing.
We huddled close, stretching our hands toward the flames. The fire crackled softly, the only sound in the woods, and the light barely pushed back the darkness around us.
"How's your stomach?" I asked, watching him focus on staying warm.
He met my eyes and gave a weak shrug. "I think I'll survive," he said, the words ending in a quiet groan.
I sighed and stared into the distance beyond the firelight. "We should be safe here tonight."
I had barely finished speaking when a shriek tore through the forest.
My heart seized.
"What was that?" I whispered.
Kumbuye's face tightened. "That… that sounds like a shadowmire."
The sound came again, closer this time. The air shifted, a cold breath sliding past me, and my skin prickled. The darkness pressed in from all sides, thick and suffocating. I could barely see beyond the weak circle of firelight.
I was exhausted, hollowed out, with nothing left in me to fight.
Then a shadow slipped past my face.
Watching.
Waiting.
I formed a fireball in my hands and hurled it toward the direction the shadow had slipped past. It burst against the trees in a flare of light but whatever it was moved faster, vanishing into the dark.
Before I could think twice, more shrieks rose from every direction, sharp and overlapping. Shadows peeled themselves from the trees, thin and fast, gliding over the snow like smoke. Shadowmires. Winter Shades. Dozens of them.
They rushed us all at once.
Cold slammed into me, biting through my skin, stealing my breath. They weren't solid, not truly, but their touch burned like frost and panic crawled up my spine. One brushed past my arm and my fingers went numb. Another lunged at Kumbuye and I stepped in front of him without thinking.
I didn't have strength for control. I only had instinct.
Fire poured from me in waves, not careful, not clean. Bursts of heat tore through the darkness, scattering shadows, forcing them back. They shrieked louder, swirling around us like a storm, pressing in, testing me.
Flames flared bright, licking up the trees, carving space around us. The shadowmires recoiled, thinning, breaking apart, retreating into the forest they'd crawled out of. One by one, the shrieks faded, until there was only the crackle of fire and my ragged breathing.
The woods fell still again.
I dropped to my knees, shaking, the fire in my chest still burning too hot. The Winter Shades were gone, driven back into the dark, but my hands trembled long after.
"Are you alright?" I turned to Kumbuye, but he didn't answer. His lips were pale, his chest rising in shallow, uneven breaths. I reached out, realizing a Winter Shade had touched him — he couldn't speak, couldn't respond. Panic shot through me.
I gently lay him down beside the fire, letting the faint warmth seep through the cold that had stiffened his body. "You'll be fine," I murmured, pressing my hands lightly against his arms to keep them from trembling too much, hoping the fire would thaw the frost creeping through him.
Another rustle in the leaves startled me as I stayed crouched over Kumbuye, and then I heard it — my name. A voice so familiar, so achingly familiar, one I hadn't heard in so long. I looked back with longing…
The place was dark, shadows pooling between the trees, and I squinted to see him.
My heart stuttered.
"Doya?"