They huddled on the riverbank, too exhausted to move.
Korath stared at the water, watching it flow past. On the far side, the iron-wolves paced, their metal-furred bodies visible in the moonlight. They howled but didn't cross. Maybe the river scared them. Maybe they were just waiting for their prey to come back.
"We need shelter," Daven said finally. His voice was hoarse, defeated. "And food. And..." He trailed off, looking at the pitiful group. Eight people. That's all that remained of their rebellion.
Eight people who didn't know how to survive in the wild.
"There's a cave," Brick announced. The big man was still bleeding from the wolf attack, deep scratches across his arms and chest. But he stood firm, pointing to a dark opening in the rocks upstream. "Saw it when we crossed."
They limped toward it—a shallow cave, barely deep enough to keep out the rain, but better than nothing. Someone built a small fire with stolen flint and kindling from the supply sacks. The light felt dangerous, too visible, but the cold was worse.
Korath sat with his back to the stone, finally letting himself feel the pain. His hands were shredded. His shoulders ached from swimming. Bruises covered his body from all the falls and impacts.
But he was alive.
"Here." Sera handed him something—hard bread and a strip of dried meat. "Eat. We'll need strength tomorrow."
Korath took it mechanically. The bread tasted like sawdust, the meat like leather, but he chewed anyway. When was the last time he'd eaten something that wasn't slave gruel?
"Where do we go?" Tam asked. The boy sat close to the fire, shivering despite the warmth. "We can't go back. But we can't stay here either."
"East," Daven replied. "Away from Ashkarn. Maybe we can reach the Free Cities—Ironhold or somewhere like that. Places where they don't ask questions about escaped slaves."
"That's weeks of travel," someone protested. "Through territory full of beasts and bandits."
"You have a better idea?"
Silence answered him.
Korath stared into the fire, watching flames dance. Free Cities. It seemed impossible. They barely survived one night in the forest. How would they last weeks?
We won't, part of him whispered. Most of us will die before we see those cities.
But some might make it. And wasn't that enough?
"First watch," Brick announced. "I'll take it. Rest while you can."
No one argued. They collapsed where they sat, too tired to care about comfort. Within minutes, half the group was snoring.
Korath tried to sleep but couldn't. Every sound made him tense—the hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves, the distant howl that might've been wolves or might've been worse.
He kept seeing the overseer's face. The one he'd hit. Was the man dead? Just injured? Would he recover and laugh about the stupid slaves who thought they could escape?
"Can't sleep either?"
Korath glanced over. Sera sat nearby, her back to the cave wall, eyes fixed on the darkness beyond the fire.
"Thinking," he said.
"About what?"
"Everything. Nothing." He flexed his hands, feeling the cuts pull. "I killed someone today. Maybe."
"That overseer?" Sera smiled without humor. "Good. He deserved it."
"How do you know?"
"Because he was an overseer in the Crystal Mines. None of them deserve to breathe." Her voice held old anger, cold and hard as stone. "I've watched them beat children to death for working too slow. Seen them rape women in the tunnels. Heard them laugh while slaves died."
Korath said nothing. He'd seen it too. Lived it.
"You feel guilty," Sera continued. "That's good. Means you're still human. But don't let it stop you from doing what's necessary. Out here, hesitation kills."
"I'm not a killer."
"You are now. We all are." She met his eyes. "The moment we ran, we crossed a line. There's no going back to who we were before. We survive, or we die. That's the only choice left."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with truth.
Korath looked at his hands again. Slave's hands, scarred and broken. Could they become something else? Could he become something else?
Or would he always be just a scared boy who got lucky?
"Get some sleep," Sera said finally. "Tomorrow will be harder than today."
He doubted that was possible.
But as he finally closed his eyes and dreams came, he feared she might be right.