The faded whisper of shouts reached her ears. They were running out of time. “Skaric!” Guilt gripped her as she shook him as hard as she could with one hand. In her other hand, she clutched the hilt of Nidan’s sword tightly as though its very presence would protect them. Skaric’s eyes flickered open. Kiana saw his pupils expand and shrink as he struggled to focus on her. She didn’t want to think about how much pain he had to be in. “We have to run,” she said urgently. “They’ll be coming soon. Can you stand?” Skaric nodded and pushed himself to his feet. He wavered, almost collapsing. Kiana ducked under his arm to brace him. She looked towards the town wall, her stomach sinking as she saw that the gathering of torches was moving towards them. Kiana half supported, half dragged Skaric through the rambling graveyard, away from the hideous sight of the charred corpse. All the time, she was aware of the guards pounding up the hill, their shouts filling the still night air.
