“After him!” Garrick ordered in a low voice. “He’s gravely injured he can’t have gone far!” The six elders obeyed at once, leading thirty guards as they sprinted down the route Jared had taken.
Garrick stayed where he was, the color of his face growing ever darker. Slowly, he turned and fixed his gaze on Vivian.
Vivian had sunk to the ground. Tear stains marked her cheeks, yet a slight curve tugged at the corners of her lips. He had escaped… He had escaped!
A swell rose inside Vivian, one she struggled to name. Was it the sudden lightness that followed a narrow escape, or, was it the heady rush that comes with success snatched from the jaws of ruin, or, was it something else entirely, she could not say.
She only knew that warmth kept spreading through her chest, impossible to contain. Garrick walked over and looked down at her from above. “Vivian, do you even realize what you’ve done?”
Vivian lifted her head. Her gaze held steady, unflinching. “Father, your daughter merely did what she believed was right.”
Garrick kept silent for a long moment, then released a heavy sigh. “Take her back to the ancestral hall. Until I give the order, she does not leave!”
Two guards stepped forward and lifted Vivian by the arms, forcing her upright. She offered no resistance, she simply gave Garrick one last look. “Father, sooner or later you will regret this!”
With the words spoken, she turned and let them escort her away. Garrick stayed where he was, staring at her disappearing figure in silence that stretched on and on.
Regret? Perhaps…
But for our family, I would not take the choice back…
***
Jared tore across the wilderness at full speed, never daring to pause. He had no sense of how long he had been running; the sky had shifted from noon to dusk and from dusk into deep night.
Blood covered him. Three ribs were broken, his left arm hung fractured, and the blows to his organs still throbbed. Only raw stubbornness kept him from collapsing.
At last he slipped into a concealed cave and finally stopped. He dropped to the ground, gulping for air, pulled several healing pills from his Storage Ring, and swallowed them.
The medicine dissolved, spreading a warm current that began knitting his shattered body. Leaning against the cave wall, jared closed his eyes and replayed every moment of the day.
Garrick… The House of Chance… Good…
He logged the debt, stroke for stroke. And then the collar.
His fingers brushed the metal at his throat, the Binding Collar still clung there, its crack now wider. The earlier eruption had shaken off part of the suppression, yet the device still held together.
The Soulshackle Seal still pulsed, and the Tracker’s Mark remained intact. Garrick could pinpoint him through that collar at any moment.
Jared’s gaze hardened. He pressed a palm to the metal and flooded it with spiritual power, trying to tear it apart. The runes flared violently, a tighter force surged out and nearly choked him.
No… This thing wouldn’t yield to brute strength. He drew a long breath and forced the impulse to smash it back down.
If it couldn’t be destroyed yet, it would have to stay for now. But he had to leave Cloudhaven City as quickly as possible.
He stood, walked to the cave mouth, and looked out.
Night lay thick over the silent forest. Far away, torchlight blinked, the Chance Family pursuers still swept the woods. Jared let out a short, icy laugh, flashed once, and vanished into the darkness.
One hour later, inside a hidden courtyard in the West City District of Cloudhaven, Jared vaulted the wall, landed quietly, and rapped softly on a door.
“Who is it?!” A sharp, wary voice floated out from inside.
“Me…”
The door cracked open. Luther peeked out, recognized Jared, and yanked him inside.
“Mr. Chance, how did you wind up like this?!” Luther blurted. Grace hurried from the inner room; the sight of Jared soaked in blood drained the color from her face.
Jared waved the concern away. “No questions. Pack up… We’re leaving now.”
Luther and Grace exchanged a glance, skipped the questions, and began packing at once. A few minutes later the three of them slipped out of the courtyard and disappeared into the night.
At the House of Chance’s Manor. Inside the ancestral shrine, Vivian knelt on the wooden floor before the row of spirit tablets. Her back stayed straight, and her gaze rested on the carved names without a ripple.
Just beyond the doorway, two guards planted their feet and stood watch like stone pillars, never shifting half a step. All at once, the hush of approaching footsteps drifted into the hall.
Vivian lifted her head. Three figures in black robes crossed the threshold and moved inside.
At their head walked a middle-aged man whose skin held almost no color. His eyes were long and narrow, and a faint dark-red shimmer flickered in the pupils. The air around him pressed with draconic authority, yet a biting chill clung to it as well.
Vivian’s pupils tightened to pinpoints. She caught the unmistakable thrum of draconic energy on him. Yet, that power was not wholly draconic. The colder layer beneath it squeezed her chest and hurried her next breath.
“Miss Chance…” The man’s voice scraped the ear. “I am Morven, envoy of the Sky Dragon Clan…”
At the title, Vivian’s shoulders drew a fraction tauter.
Sky Dragon Clan?
So the Draconians really still walk the world? Behind Morven, two more black-robed men waited-one built like a wall, the other sharp-featured. The same eerie aura spilled from both of them.
Vivian rose and faced the trio without speaking. Morven’s smile iced the room. “No need to tense up, Miss Janis. We came only for the man who entered Dragonmere.”
A pulse beat hard at her throat, yet her expression stayed smooth. “Who? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Morven shook his head. “Miss Chance, spare the act. Your family found Dragonmere and held a tournament to hunt for Draconian Bloodline. We know every detail.”
He paused, then continued, “Our plan was to meet the man after he surfaced. Unfortunately…”
His eyes glimmered with a teasing light. “Your father struck first and even let him slip away.”
Vivian’s face remained unreadable. “Whether he escaped has nothing to do with me.”
Morven let out a low laugh. The laugh scraped along the air, shrill enough to grate on bone. “Miss Chance, that is not what you said while dragging him out of danger.”
Vivian’s lashes quivered.
Have they seen everything? Morven, as though answering the thought, spoke evenly, “We watched from the shadows. You blocked your father with your own body and threatened death so the man could leave. We saw every moment.”
He stepped closer and looked down at her. “Miss Chance, tell us where is he?”
Vivian shook her head. “I don’t know.”
