Page 10 of The Dragon and the Dove

‘I c-c-c-an’t hold on much longer, Bastian.’

She stumbled forward, and Ransom lunged, catching her as the door frame cracked in two. Pain lanced through his shoulder as he carried her down the north passage.

Behind them, a thunderous roar filled the Cavern as the dome finally buckled. Rock and bone rained down, spitting up plumes of dust.

Cradling his sister against his chest, Ransom waded through the falling rubble. Anouk was boneless in his arms.

He willed Oriel to clear a path for them.

He’d spent half his life praying to find Anouk again; he would not lose her now.

Head down, heart pounding, he surged forward. Ignored the searing pain in his shoulder, the ash clouding his lungs.

Up ahead, dawn light filtered through the hazy passage.

A narrowing gap to freedom.

Beyond it, there was shouting.

He ducked a falling slab only to narrowly avoid another. Anouk stirred as he pushed through shattered bones, shoving them towards that slant of dying light.

Sera and the others were waiting on the other side, frantically moving the fallen boulders, widening the gap just enough that Ransom could squeeze through it. He stumbled up the stairs, gasping for clean air.

At his back, the entryway to Hugo’s Passage buckled. Steps crumbled underfoot, his heart thundering as he leaped to freedom, falling to his knees beneath the statue of Saint Lucille.

The Order swarmed him. Anouk groaned as she was lifted from his arms and carried to a nearby bench. Someone had brought a canteen of water from the well and was passing it around. Grabbing a wet rag, Ransom shook the dust from his hair and rubbed his eyes clean.

The world was far too bright. Bodies milled around him, coughing, frantic, but his eyes went to her – always her.

Shoving her way through the fray, Sera gripped him by the shoulders. Her hands were cold against his bare skin, his chest slicked with sweat and dust.

Her mouth was moving, but he couldn’t make out the words.

There was such a ringing in his head.

How many of their Order had been trapped in the crumbling corridors of Hugo’s Passage? Besieged in their beds by Lark’s macabre army of skeletons?

Lark.

The name was a hot poker to his spine.

‘Wait here.’ Arcing around Sera, Ransom stalked into the heart of Old Haven. Shadows unfurled from him, filling the street. The hounds were no match for Lark. What horrors could his darkness wield against a Necromancer who had crawled out of his own grave?

No, his shadows might not touch Lark, but they were a show of power. Of intent.

Death prowls alongside me too, Delano.

Feet cut and fists clenched, Ransom scanned every dark alley and hidden alcove.

‘Come out, you gutless coward!’ he yelled into the unnerving quiet. ‘I know you’re here!’

His former best friend was nowhere to be found. The residents of Old Haven were rising to face the day but the sun moving above the city did little to calm Ransom’s rage.

Doubling back towards Hugo’s Passage, he made for the cemetery.

The gate slammed shut behind him, a raft of shadows clinging to him like a cape.

He felt Lark before he saw him, his magic prickling with sudden awareness.