Korath woke to someone shaking him.
"Breathe! Come on, breathe!"
He coughed, and water gushed from his lungs. Pain exploded through his chest. Every part of him hurt—his ribs, his head, his arms. Everything.
"That's it. Keep breathing." Daven's face swam into focus above him. "Thought we lost you."
Korath tried to speak. Only a croak came out.
"Don't talk yet. Just rest." Daven sat back, looking exhausted. "We made it. Don't know how, but we made it."
Slowly, Korath's vision cleared. They were on a riverbank, hidden under an overhang of rock. Gray sky above. Rain falling softly.
How many left?
He tried to sit up, nearly blacked out again. Daven caught him.
"Easy. You hit hard. Probably cracked some ribs."
"The others?" Korath managed.
Daven's face told him everything.
"Tam's alive. Brick. Me." He paused. "Sera didn't make it. That arrow wound—when she hit the water, she just... went under. We tried to find her, but the current..."
Three. Out of thirty who'd escaped, only three remained.
And Kira.
"Where's Kira?" Korath asked urgently.
"Here." The girl's voice came from nearby. "I'm here."
She looked terrible. Soaked, pale, her broken leg bent at an angle that made Korath's stomach turn. But alive.
"You saved me," she said softly. "When we hit the water, you held on. Didn't let go even when we went under."
Korath didn't remember that. Didn't remember anything after jumping.
"The soldiers?" he asked.
"Gone. Or can't find us." Brick's voice rumbled from the cave entrance. The big man was on watch, scanning the forest above. "Either way, we're clear for now."
For now. That was the best they ever got—for now.
Korath closed his eyes, feeling the weight of it all. Twenty-seven people dead. Dead because they'd wanted freedom. Dead because he'd—
No. He couldn't think like that. They'd known the risks. They'd chosen to try.
But it still hurt.
"We can't stay here," Daven said. "Need to keep moving once Korath can walk."
"Where?" Tam asked. The boy looked lost, sitting alone near the back of the cave. "Everyone's dead. We have nothing. Where can we possibly go?"
Good question.
Daven pulled out his compass—miraculously still working after the plunge. "East. Still east. We're closer to the Free Cities now than to Ashkarn. Forward is our only option."
"Forward to what?" Tam's voice cracked. "More running? More death?"
"Forward to freedom," Korath said quietly. Everyone looked at him. "Real freedom. Not just escape. A place where we can actually live."
"You believe that exists?" Tam asked.
Korath thought about it. Did he? After everything they'd seen, everything they'd lost?
He looked at Kira, at her broken but defiant expression. At Brick standing guard despite his injuries. At Daven still checking that compass, still leading even when all seemed lost.
At Tam, who was just a kid and deserved better than this world had given him.
"Yeah," Korath said. "I believe it exists. And we're going to find it."
It was probably a lie. But sometimes lies were all that kept you moving.
They rested through the day. Korath's ribs hurt too much to travel. Kira's leg was worse—the jump had bent the broken bone again. She'd need it reset, but none of them had the strength or skill.
"We need help," Daven finally admitted. "Real help. A doctor, supplies, shelter. We're not going to make it to the Free Cities in this condition."
"There's a village," Kira said suddenly. "Half a day east of here. Small place called Thorndale. My aunt lives there."
Everyone turned to stare.
"You have family?" Sera had been the one who'd asked that. No, wait—Sera was dead. Korath kept forgetting. His mind felt fuzzy.
"Had family," Kira corrected. "My aunt took me in after my mother died. I was traveling to apprentice with a healer in Ironhold when I fell in that ravine."
"Why didn't you mention this before?" Daven demanded.
"Because I wasn't sure we'd survive long enough for it to matter." Kira met his eyes. "But if we're this close, and we're this desperate... my aunt will help. She has to."
"Or she'll turn us in for the bounty," Brick rumbled.
"She won't. I trust her."
Trust. That word didn't mean much anymore. But what choice did they have?
"We go to Thorndale," Korath decided. "If it's a trap, we deal with it. But we need help, and this is the best chance we'll get."
They set out at dawn, moving slowly. Korath could barely walk, leaning on Brick for support. They'd fashioned a new stretcher for Kira from branches and torn cloth.
The forest began to change. Smaller trees. Cleared paths. Signs of human habitation.
Then, through the trees, they saw it—smoke from chimneys. Wooden buildings. A village.
Thorndale.
It was smaller than Korath had imagined. Maybe thirty buildings total, clustered around a central square. Fields surrounded it, crops growing in neat rows. Normal. Peaceful.
Everything the past weeks hadn't been.
"My aunt's house is on the edge," Kira said. "The one with blue shutters."
They found it easily—a small cottage with a garden out front. Herbs grew in careful rows. A sign by the door read "Miriam Thorne - Healer."
Daven knocked.
Footsteps approached. The door opened.
A woman stood there—maybe forty, with Kira's eyes and gray-streaked hair. Her face went from confusion to shock to joy in seconds.
"Kira!" She rushed forward. "By all the gods, you're alive! I thought— when you didn't arrive, I thought the worst—" She stopped, seeing the others. "Who are these people?"
"They saved my life," Kira said simply. "And they need help. Please, Aunt Miriam. Please let them in."
Miriam studied them—the torn clothes, the weapons, the look of desperate people at the end of their rope.
"You're escaped slaves," she said flatly.
No one answered. What was the point of lying?
Miriam sighed. "Come inside. Quickly, before the neighbors see. And someone will need to explain everything."
They filed into the cottage. It was warm, clean, smelling of herbs and bread. So different from the caves and mud and blood that Korath almost cried.
Miriam shut the door firmly behind them.
"Sit," she commanded. "I'll make tea. Then you're going to tell me everything."
As they sat around her table, sipping hot tea from actual cups, Korath felt something he hadn't felt in years.
Safe. Just for a moment, just in this small cottage, he felt safe.
It probably wouldn't last.
But for now, it was enough.