Page 182 of Starside

I open my mouth, trying to recall the surrounding landscape, then freeze.

It’s not just the skies. The ground is thundering.

Fuck.

Hooves. Horses, grunting.

The cavalry has found us again.

We start to run.

And the rain pours down harder. I don’t know if it’s to our advantage, or not, all I hear is those dozens of horses, getting closer.

“The light,” Raker says, looking over at me. I look down. It’s like a beacon, leading them right to us. Even through the rain.

I know he probably wants me to leave it behind. “But—”

He rips it over my head in one smooth motion.

“That cave, up in the mountains. You go there,” he yells, motioning northeast, to the faint shape of a mountain I can barely see through the rain. He says it like a general ordering his forces. Then, without waiting for my response, light clutched in his hand, he runs in the other direction.

I realize what he’s doing immediately.

Shit.

I try to run after him, but he’s so much faster, even with the armor. It doesn’t really slow him that much, not really, no matter what I said.

He disappears in the blur of the rain. I stay rooted in place, listening to those hooves as they change course. As they chase him.

Raker is the best warrior I’ve ever seen. He also doesn’t really give a shit about me. This isn’t some sort of noble sacrifice. This is him telling me I’ll just get in the way.

He’s going to be fine. That’s what I tell myself as I take a breath and start to move, sprinting to the hill, and the cliff carved into its side.

My boots slip and my knees crash against the rock. Dirt gets lodged beneath my nails. But I finally make it to the mouth of the cave. A curtain of water is spilling over it, runoff from the top of the hill. I dart through the entrance, and finally, I’m dry.

I didn’t realize how cold the rain was, until now. My skin is pebbled. My teeth chatter.

Arms crossed over myself for warmth, I stand there, for a few minutes. Then, almost an hour, just waiting.

Waiting.

Raker doesn’t return.

Dread starts to crawl through my blood. Should I—should I go looking for him?

No. I think about when I bolted through the Storm Woods, believing I would save him. He’s the head of the king’s guard. He’ll have had a plan. A way to distract them or lead them away.

I sit. And wait.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Quiet.

Scrapes echo against the stone like nails scratching a wall. I groan, turning over, realizing I fell asleep waiting for him.

A step sounds close by.

Raker.