I ran.
The shouts of merchants and angry curses of guards faded behind me as I wove through the crowded market. My lungs burned, my feet barely touching the ground. The loaf of bread was still warm in my hands, the scent of it almost mocking.
"Thief! Stop him!"
"Guards! That boy stole from me!"
Damn it. They were loud. Too loud.
I ducked under a merchant's cart, slipping past a group of startled shoppers. The market was always crowded, always noisy—but things weren't the same as before. The stalls had fewer goods. People haggled harder. The caravans that used to roll through town every day were fewer now. Taxes had bled the town dry, and hunger was written on every face.
Including mine.
Heavy boots pounded behind me. The guards. Fast. If I didn't lose them now, I was done for.
The slums. If I could reach the slums, I'd be safe.
I turned a corner, my heart slamming against my ribs—
And my foot caught a loose stone.
I hit the ground hard, the rough cobblestones scraping against my skin. Pain flared through my knees and palms. The bread rolled from my grasp, landing in the dirt.
No.
Armor clanked as the guards closed in.
Move.
My body didn't listen. My limbs felt sluggish, the impact rattling through me.
Then—
A hand grabbed mine.
"Get up!"
I looked up. My friend. His face was tense, his grip strong.
No time to think. I grabbed his hand, and he yanked me to my feet. Together, we ran.
The slums were just ahead.