The tormented voices drilled into her brain, shredded her heart, and physically hurt her body. She curled her hands into fists and raised them to her ears. But before she could shut out the sounds, she heard something that once again made her remember her mission.
Crows.
More importantly, her crow.
“Shiv Crow,” she said, and looked skyward. She saw none of the crows, but they were there. She raised her arm and opened her hand.
The crow dove from the sky like a black, feathered missile.
He landed with one claw on her palm and the other on her forearm, and even as strong as she was she had trouble adjusting to his weight.
He’d grown into a large, shaggy bird with a long, sharp beak and lethal claws. He tilted his head and stared into her eyes for just a second.
Then he lifted off and became a speck in the sky before the startled exclamations of the witch’s people had ended.
With the arrival of the crow, the people once again saw her, but that no longer mattered.
Her army of crows—those that had survived the hand—were waiting. Waiting to fight with her—for her.
She closed her eyes for a brief second, then strode with new purpose to the dim. Damascus would be coming, of course.
Rune was ready for her.
Those guarding the dim—three men and two women—met her halfway. They didn’t raise weapons or try to kill her, just lifted their hands and tried to hold her off.
“Wait,” one of them said.
“You can’t go in there,” said another, but none of them dared hurt her.
“I’m sorry,” Rune said, “that you have to live in this hellish place. I’m going to do what I can to get you free.” She shook her head, slowly, looking at each of them. “Don’t stand in my way. I will kill you.”
“Probably,” one of the men agreed, “but we’d rather have a quick death from you than to displease the witch. She’s…”
He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to.
“I know what she is,” Rune told them. “But I’m your fabled redeemer. Are you really going to stand against me?”
She waited for them to consider her words.
Finally, they glanced at each other and backed away.
She gave them a nod of thanks. “I won’t forget you.”
The man’s smile was at once sad and proud. “There won’t be anything left of us to remember, Princess.”
And she was sorry for that.
“I’m looking for a man and three women who might have been brought in recently,” she said. “Are they here?”
“Yeah,” he said. “They’re here. At least, they were.”
Fuck me. “I need one of you to take me to the man.”
The guard stepped forward and nodded. “No sense in stopping now. Come with me. Hurry.”
They ran into the building, side by side.
Z was there.
She still couldn’t feel him.
She could only feel despair.
“What’s your name?” Rune asked, matching her pace to the man beside her.
“Bo. And there are guards around the next corner. You’ll have to kill them.”
She glanced at him. “They won’t surrender?”
“Given time, maybe they would. But you don’t have time.” He pointed toward the ceiling. “She’s coming.”
They could hear footsteps above them, running, stomping, tearing through the dim toward them.
Yeah, the witch was coming.
“I’ll take them out.” Rune rocketed down the hallway and around the corner, seeing the guards before they had a chance to identify the blurry form running toward them.
There were four of them and she left them lying broken and dead upon the cold floor and ran on toward her Z.
She no longer needed Bo.
Z was guiding her.
Finally.
Always, Z would guide her.
But his light was dim.
I’m coming…
No, Rune. Run.
Never.
He hadn’t wanted her to feel him, to find him. He was trying to protect her.
“Damn you, Z,” she whispered.
She heard Bo’s scream of agony and knew he had fallen beneath the fury of the witch’s men.
They were coming for her.
But she was faster than any of them, and she was desperate.
Z was waiting.
She destroyed everyone in her path.
Finally, as she descended into the darker, filthier levels of the dim, when he was close enough to touch, she screamed his name.
She could feel Z, but she could feel the witch as well.
At her back, close, so close.
“Z,” she screamed.
“No,” he yelled. His voice was hoarse and full of pain, but he was alive.
“God,” she whispered. She knew it was a trap.
She didn’t care. She’d walk into a million traps for Z.
She ran more slowly down the wide aisle between cages lining the hallway—small, filthy cages that would have forced adult prisoners to bend into