THE TREES GREW thicker as they ran, branches clawing at their clothes, the winter cold biting into their bones, the darkness swallowing any trace of what lay behind them.
Thorne's face twisted with pain, every step now a limp and stumble, his leg dangling uselessly beneath him. He had run a few miles until the adrenaline wore off, and he could no longer handle placing his weight on the leg, now he needed support to keep upright.
Adrian kept one arm hooked under his friend's shoulder, the weight of the gold now slung over his own back, dragging them both down with every step.
"Keep going, the cabin's close," Adrian urged, trying to keep his voice steady. "Valtak said we'd be safe if we can make it there."
Thorne shot him a look, eyes narrowed, even as he gasped for breath. "Safe? How could we possibly be safe in some creaky dusty cabin? What kind of magic does he have that'll keep the City Watch off our backs?"
Adrian didn't answer right away, pressing forward. He hadn't wanted to put his faith in the odd looking man or some mysterious cabin either, but their options and his original plan had vanished the second they'd lost Jax in the keep, and with the guards hot on their trails.
And now, with Thorne's leg slowing them down, they were backed into a corner and had no other choice.
He wondered if Jax would be alright, but he didn't have the luxury of going back to save him. They needed to get out of the City Watch's range, and quickly.
He also had to assume the worse, that if Jax had been captured, their cover was blown. Any sense of anonymity was pulled back into the keep with Jax, which made their situation even more desperate.
"Do you think he's a mage? I never saw him practice magic, but that would explain his confidence about the cabin."
"You're letting your imagination run too wild, Thorne. Mages don't exist. Not in this part of the world, anyway." Adrian replied grimly.
The Emerald Dominion was harsh on magic, driven solely by technology. But even that was slow to spread in poor cities like Brairhold, where they still relied on outdated ways of survival.
He wasn't complaining, it made his profession easier, even though their hate for anything that remotely resembled magic made his life harder.
Thorne scoffed. "How would you know that? You've never even met a mage before!"
"According to you, I have. We both have."
"But think of it, Adrian, wouldn't that be nice? He could heal my leg with magic, none of that nasty tasting healer's potion, just magic. And then, we could take the gold and go anywhere we want. Maybe he could even open one of those magical portals, and we could just disappear!"
The whole thing had crossed over to the realm of impossibility for Adrian, and he much preferred to make plans based on reality. He knew magic was real, but unless one of Thorne's portals opened up right now in time to save them, it was useless.
"Let's just focus on what's right in front of us for now. We reach the cabin and it's safe, and you can have as many portals as you want."
As if mocking his resolve, whistles pierced the quiet in the distance. Adrian's gut twisted as he caught sight of torches lighting up the forest behind them. The barking of hounds followed, hungry and wild, tearing through the night after their prey.
Adrian paused and leaned Thorne on a tree, while he took off the shirt under his jacket, and tossed it in the opposite direction.
"That should distract the hounds and buy us some time," he said.
It worked, and he could hear them change direction after some time, drawn away by the scent of his shirt, but soon, he knew they would discover his ruse.
He glanced back, calculating. The gold was slowing them down. Leaving it felt like a betrayal of everything they'd gone through to get it, but it might be their only chance to survive.
I still have the magical item the man wanted, so I'll make him pay us before I hand it over. That way, this wouldn't have been a complete bust. I doubt he will pay as much as we'll lose by leaving the gold, but at least, it's something.
"We have to drop the bag," he muttered, barely believing he was saying it aloud. It went against his beliefs, but survival trumped gold. For now.
Thorne scowled, clutching Adrian's arm to steady himself. "No. If I'm dying out here, I'm dying rich."
The words hung between them, as if money could somehow make their lives more meaningful even in death. Years of excruciating hunger, forced to live with the prejudice of Briarhold, of watching his mother fade away to the wasting sickness, Adrian could only agree.
Suddenly, arrows cut through the silence, slicing through the dark like invisible threads of death. Adrian barely had time to react before Thorne let out a cry, clutching his leg as an arrow pierced the already broken bone.
The sound he made was gut-wrenching, a pain that seemed to echo off the trees, louder than any shout.
Adrian moved quickly, covering Thorne's mouth with his palm, praying the echoes that followed his screams would somehow mask their location, but he knew that was foolish.
Another arrow whizzed past Adrian's head, a hair's breadth away from hitting him. Without thinking, he jerked his head aside at the last second, narrowly avoiding it, unknown instincts guiding him in a way he couldn't explain.
"We need to keep moving," he grunted, now pulling all of Thorne's weight and dragging him forward, even as he heard his mother's voice in his head, berating him.
"Foolish boy, don't you know he's dead weight? You must survive, take the gold and cut him loose!"
"Adrian - " Thorne gasped, as another arrow buried itself in his back, and he crumpled forward into the snow.
"Fuck!" Adrian dropped to his knees beside him, wrenching the arrow out as blood seeped through his friend's tattered clothes, staining the snow in dark patches.
He tried to heave Thorne up, arms bracing to drag him the rest of the way, but Thorne resisted, a weak hand gripping his arm.
"I can't feel my feet," Thorne mumbled, a weak smile on his lips. "I think… I think they're getting cold."
Adrian bit back the lump in his throat. "Of course they're cold, you fool. It's the dead of winter, and we're too damn poor for decent shoes."
Thorne gave a short, breathy laugh, then coughed, red specks flecking his lips. "How is it... that Jax is captured, I am mortally wounded, and you're the only one without... even a cut?"
The question caught Adrian off guard, and he wondered just how much of his secrets his friends had noticed over the years, but chose not to mention.
He tried to laugh it off. "Just more careful than you oafs," but the laugh didn't reach his eyes.
If only you knew half the truth, I wonder if you'd still be my friend, he thought.
Thorne didn't seem to have heard him. He glanced up at Adrian, "Do you think… do you think Jax made it out?"
Adrian hesitated, caught between dragging Thorne up and making a run for it again before they launched another volley of arrows, and giving Thorne some kind of peace. But he couldn't find the words, couldn't say anything but the truth he didn't want to admit.
"Take the gold," Thorne gasped, fingers fumbling against Adrian's coat. "Run, before they find you. I won't… I won't make it. But if you don't take it… all of this… it'll mean nothing."
Adrian's heart felt as though it was being split in two. He could hear the guards getting closer, the howl of the hounds sharper, more eager as they followed the scent of Thorne's blood. But he couldn't just leave him.
Not here. Not like this.
"You stupid fool, I said go on!" Thorne said with force, his grip loosening as his eyes began to close. "Take it. Run. I'll distract them."
'I'll distract them'.
That's what Jax said. And now, Thorne as well. How could I have lost two friends in one night?
But he was right, and Adrian felt some shame for the relief that followed Thorne's suggestion. He would have left him anyway, but this way, he hadn't made the hard decision himself.
Adrian clenched his fists, swallowing against the burn in his throat as he made to rise. "I will see you again. In this life or the next, brother."
Thorne didn't respond, and Adrian knew he was dead. There was no fog under his nose to indicate he was still breathing, no sound, nothing but the hounds and the guards hunting them down.
He picked up the sack and looked down at Thorne one last time, and then he turned, running into the night alone, the forest closing around him.