Chapter 40: The fall
"We have company."
Leo’s words hadn’t even finished vibrating in the air before the world erupted.
BOOM!
The carriage shuddered violently, wood splintering, iron fittings shrieking. Then the entire world spun.
Avin’s body flung sideways. His shoulder slammed into the wall, then his skull into the roof, then his ribs into the floor — though in the spin it was impossible to tell which was which. The sound of cracking wood, the terrified screams of horses, and the guttural roar of earth tearing apart swallowed all thought.
Leo was a blur, tossed like a ragdoll across from him. Both of them slammed against the walls in time with the carriage’s death roll.
Then Avin’s body smashed into the door.
CRACK.
It splintered, and he was gone.
The air punched out of his lungs as he was hurled into open sky, the world tilting around him. Below, the ground stretched out like a pit waiting to crush him. His scream caught in his throat. Unable to escape from his lips.
By pure reflex — or sheer dumb luck — his hand shot out. Fingers caught on a thick root sticking from the side of a tree at the cliff’s edge.
His body snapped to a halt, yanking his shoulder nearly out of its socket. He dangled there, breath tearing ragged in his chest.
Below, the carriage tumbled end over end down the hill, wood exploding apart in showers of splinters. Leo was still inside.
"No, no, no—" Avin gasped, staring down.
The carriage hit bottom.
KRRSSHHHH!
A plume of dust and debris burst upward, swallowing the wreck.
"Fuck!" Avin shut his eyes, cursing, the sound of his own heartbeat pounding louder than the crash.
He pulled. Muscles screamed as he tried to climb back up. The root groaned beneath his weight. Against all odds, he managed to heave himself halfway up the cliff’s lip.
But the tree betrayed him.
CRRKKK.
The root tore free, dragging half the soil and stone with it. Earth rained into his face, blinding him, choking him. His hand clutched at nothing, air rushing past as gravity reclaimed him.
He fell, arms flailing, heart bursting with panic.
What a painful feeling of déjà vu, he thought bitterly. His stomach twisted as acceptance tried to replace the raw terror. So this is how it ends again—
"Young Master!"
A hand.
Avin’s eyes shot open. Above him, one of the guards — the driver — leaned dangerously far over the cliff’s edge, hand locked tight around his wrist.
The grip seared through him like salvation.
Avin threw his other hand up, clutching the guard’s arm with both of his. The guard grunted, muscles straining, veins bulging as he dragged Avin inch by inch back toward safety.
"Pull—dammit, pull!" Avin rasped, kicking against the cliff face.
With a final, guttural groan, the guard hauled him up.
Avin sprawled onto the dirt, coughing, chest heaving. His whole body shook from the effort, his heart slamming against his ribs like it wanted out.
"Thank you..." he gasped, turning his head toward the guard.
"It was my pleasure, Young Master," the man panted, sweat dripping down his brow.
The relief was fleeting. The guard’s eyes darkened. "Sir Leo...?"
Avin’s stomach twisted. He closed his eyes, voice low. "...He didn’t make it."
The guard exhaled sharply, grief crossing his face. "Damn."
They sat in silence, the sounds of settling earth filling the void.
Then the guard’s eyes darted back to Avin. "Ah, Young Master — you are bleeding."
Avin blinked. "...What?"
A sharp, stabbing pain flared at his temple the moment the words landed. He lifted a trembling hand to his head. Warmth slicked his palm. When he pulled it away, his hand was smeared red.
"Ahh..." He grimaced, voice shaky. But he forced a weak grin. "I’m okay."
The guard nodded, though his eyes remained wary, scanning the treeline.
Avin turned toward the cliff edge again. "We should probably get out of he—"
The guard froze. His words cut off mid-breath.
"What?" Avin demanded. He turned.
And froze himself.
The guard’s mouth hung open. His eyes rolled upward, pupils splitting apart.
The point of a dagger jutted clean through his skull.
Blood spilled down his face, pattering hot against Avin’s cheek.
Avin’s eyes went wide. "Oh... shit."
The guard collapsed forward, dead weight slamming into Avin’s chest.
WHUMP!
Air exploded from Avin’s lungs. The man’s armor pressed into him, crushing, pinning. Avin thrashed, groaning. "Get—off—me!"
The corpse was too heavy. It took every ounce of frantic adrenaline to shove the body aside. It toppled, sliding back down the hill, clattering off rock until it smashed into the ground below.
"Fuck..." Avin crawled to the edge, staring down at the broken armor, the stillness of the guard’s body. His stomach churned.
"Look what we have here!"
The voice boomed from behind.
Avin whipped his head around.
Three figures stood there.
They were clad in tattered rags, animal skins wrapped into crude vests and belts. Bones and claws dangled from cords around their necks, rattling in the breeze. Their bodies were filthy, scarred, eyes gleaming with predatory hunger.
The one in the middle dwarfed the others. Broad shoulders, thick muscles, long unkempt hair that fell in wild waves. His presence was suffocating, primal. His eyes glowed an evil red and his grin was like that of a happy hound.
A lion, Avin thought. A lion that had found its prey.
The two smaller men flanked him, smirking. Their teeth were yellow, their nails caked in grime.
Avin shuffled backward on his hands, boots scraping dirt, heart clawing against his ribs. His palm slipped, loose soil tumbling over the cliff. His eyes darted down — the long, long drop waited for him.
He snapped his gaze back to the men. They were advancing.
The one on the left broke formation, stepping closer, arms out in mock welcome.
"Let’s have a nice conversation, noble," he sneered.
Avin swallowed hard. His throat clicked audibly.
The towering one in the middle licked his lips. His eyes burned into Avin’s, unblinking.
The lion had cornered its prey.