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THE CARNYX

I don’t know a lot of things. But one thing I do know, is that once you hear it, you fucking run.

The distant cry of it splits the air. A deep, haunting bray. An alarm as hollow as any nightmare could conjure.

The Carnyx.

They couldn’t have picked something a little less menacing to alert the towns? Maybe a regular fucking bell instead?

“Take cover!” a voice shouts over the frantic screams exploding around me.

Men and women dash left and right. Shoulders and elbows jab into me as we scatter separate directions in the cobblestone street. A woman stumbles. She collapses to the ground, and the crowd tramples over her. My breath catches and I freeze, the seconds ticking by painfully slow as I wait for her to resurface. Despite my instincts screaming at me to run for my life, I push against the urge and race toward the woman. Shoving my way through the crowd, I find her on her hands and knees, strugglingto get up. I hook my arm through hers, pulling her to her feet with all of my strength. She finds her footing, and her wide brown eyes meet mine.

“Come on!” I tug her arm and push through the crowd.

We break away from the main street and skirt down a shadowed alley ending in a dead end. I turn toward a familiar door on my left and slam a fist against the wood.

“Willard! Willard, please! Let us in!” With each slam of my fist, my knuckles scream in pain. The main street falls eerily silent. I whip my head over my shoulder to scan the now empty road, then turn back to the door and ram my body against it. Pleading with everything I am for the man inside to open it.

“Stop,” the woman whispers and pulls me from the door.

A screeching roar thunders nearby.

I freeze.Shit.

The woman yanks me down to a crouch, and we fumble backwards, tucking into a corner behind a stack of wooden crates. My strained breath rattles in my chest, my heart pounding in my ears. I peek around the edge of a crate toward the main street, but the woman’s shaky hand grasps my shoulder, pulling me back.

But not before I see it.

With a terrified scream, a man races down the main street, followed immediately by an explosion of fire. Within seconds, he’s engulfed in flames. His cries are cut short by the roaring inferno. Even from this distance, the heat radiates over me. I turn, tucking my face into my shoulder. A heavy beat of wings approaches as loud as distant thunder.

Against my better judgment, I dare one more peek. A dark shadow looms over the flame-filled street. The silhouette disappears as quickly as it appeared, its fiery breath the only evidence in its wake.

Dragons.

“What are we going to do?” the woman whispers.

“I have to go.”

She grabs my arm. “Absolutely not! You’ll attract its attention!”

I rip away from her grasp. “And you’ll be trapped if you stay.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“But not a risk I can take.” I slink out into the alley.

I have to get to my mother.

The woman doesn’t follow as I edge closer to the flames. The heat of it warms my skin as I approach, and sweat trickles down the nape of my neck. I pause at the corner where the alley meets the main street, searching the skies for the dragon, but it’s nowhere in sight. I shift my focus back to the street. My breath catches in my throat at the heap of ash where the man had been moments earlier.

After a few heartbeats, I slip between the dying flames lining the street and race for the northwestern border of town. A few townspeople peek out from behind merchant carts and from windows carved into the sides of stone buildings. Their wide stares hook into me, begging me to hide.

“Katerina!” a voice hisses at me.

Ignoring it, I pass the last few buildings of Padmoor and reach the town’s outskirts. The land gives way to the familiar rolling hills that stretch from here to the distant Northern Forest. Tucked into those hills is the faint roof of my home, a speck against the landscape this far out.