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Story: Chasm

It took the smallest attempt to pull the bolt free, a moment longer to pull it away from the wall and slide his shackles free.

The irons around his wrists could be dealt with, but the ones around his ankles were problematic. With his strength so depleted, the hole in his chest so newly mended, he could not depend on his wings. He would need to run.

He began inspecting the chain, looking for separated chinks, rust, anything that might signify weakness. Yet again, it was a far easier task than he could have imagined, for the cuff on his right ankle still held the pin that would unlock it.

Ryon almost laughed. He would have, if he wasn’t overcome with suspicion.

“Slow!” came the captain’s voice again, and the horses were pulled to a steady walk. Ryon could hear the hustle of the Mecca around the wagon, glimpse flashes of it through the windows. They were close.

He pulled the pin free and unclad himself from the irons – first his ankles, then his wrists.

“Steady! Make way!”

He crawled to the back of the wagon.

“By order of the Queen, make way!”

Ryon took a fortifying breath against the burn in his chest, and with all his might, he slammed his feet into the back of the doors.

They burst free. Ryon with them.

“Halt!” came the voice of a guard, and then, “Captain! The prisoner!” But Ryon’s feet were already hitting the cobblestone and carrying him away. He sprinted through the Mecca, dodging around carts and horses, the people traversing the busy lanes in throngs. He weaved amongst them, barely hearing their gasps of shock as he flew by.

The guards were in pursuit behind him for a time, giving chase in their heavy armour, shouting for pedestrians to move. Even in his depleted state, they were no match for him. He heard the clamour of them growing evermore distant as he ran and ran. By the time he reached the fringe, he could hardly hear them at all.

Ryon did not stop until he reached the forest. By then his chest was a burning pit, fraying at the edges. He found a tree to lean against, doubling over to catch his breath.Mother above,he thought.What now, Mesrich?

He wiped the sweat from his eyes. One thought arose: the same name that always came to him, rebounding, pulsing, even when his mind ought to be elsewhere.Dawsyn.

Where was she?

He was sure he knew where she was going, but as for her exact location? That would require something more than mere instinct.

Ryon reached into his pocket, fingers finding the smallest of treasures buried within its seam. He held the ornament skyward, watching the sunlight refract from it, for a moment praying that it would prove useful. An unimpressive bauble, slightly bent and gaudy, but charmed by a powerful mage. He pressed Baltisse’s ring to his lips and slid it onto his third finger, vowing that when he saw the mage again, he would vow eternal servitude.

Flexing his fingers, Ryon turned toward the mountain.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

He had walked all day and well into the night to reach her.

Each time he thought the course was set, the charmed ring would suddenly tug him in a different direction, as though Dawsyn were changing her path.

In a moment of doubt, Ryon thought the mage’s charm might be failing. He resorted to using his wings in his desperation – a stupid mistake. They merely carried him part way over the Boulder Gate before collapsing and sending him crashing onto the mountainside.

But he has found her. She is here.

And she is blessedly, divinely whole. She is well.

He exhales in a rush of triumph and feels the hole in his chest grow smaller.

Her raven black hair swirls in the weak wind. Her cheeks glow red with cold, lips cracked but still hers. She stands tall, proud as ever. Eyes widening in shock, breaths quickening.

Within him, the dam of his fear – that leaking wall that had pooled every drop of dread – breaks. Acute relief floods him. He laughs.

She is alive.

She is as short and furious and maddeningly beautiful as he remembers, and he wants to go to her. He wants to fight off the fists he knows will rain down upon him and take her into his arms, press his lips to hers again… finally.