For a moment, even the fire seemed reluctant to breathe.
The Adaptic crouched at the broken edge of camp, half-submerged in shadow, exactly where the human Primal had cut off its escape. It trembled beneath the aftermath of a breach that had failed to complete. Its chitin had thickened, its frame had grown slightly larger, and its movements carried a sharper, more deliberate strength than before, as though something beyond the Primal threshold had touched it, changed it, and withdrawn before the creature could claim the rest.
The human Primal did not lower his blade, and the Vyx Primal did not advance.
Neither of them looked afraid.
That made it worse, because they looked uncertain.
Marek noticed.
His fingers tightened around the prize pressed against his ribs, while the hook of his mechanical arm twitched restlessly near his side. Sweat glistened across his brow, catching the red pulse of the dying Blood Seed and the colder blue glow of the Location Seed.
"What does that mean?" he demanded. "Did it breach or not?"
The human Primal ignored him, his attention fixed on the creature.
The Adaptic's breath came in short, fractured pulls. Its pointed limbs flexed against the dirt near the camp's outer boundary, ready to launch if even the smallest opening appeared. Fresh chitin shifted across its shoulders in uneven layers, too new to look natural and too strong to dismiss. The blue crystal eye set into its skull clicked once, then twice, studying the two Primals with terrible focus.
Wounded and cornered, it still watched them with growing precision, each breath carrying the same unfinished hunger that had driven it toward the failed breach.
The Vyx Primal lowered his voice.
"No full breach."
The human Primal's grip tightened around his blade.
"Then it should not feel like that."
"It should not," the Vyx said. "That is the problem."
Behind a half-spilled pack, Kestin made a small, miserable sound.
"That sounds bad. I am going to assume that is bad."
Rist hissed through clenched teeth, still kneeling beside the Blood Seed.
"Just kill it. Dezcrin can be angry later."
The human Primal finally looked toward him.
"Dezcrin gave an order."
"Then Dezcrin can come here and take it himself!"
Silence dropped over the camp hard enough to smother the firelight.
Even Marek stopped breathing for a moment, which, considering his talent for making everything worse, was almost a miracle.
Even Rist seemed to understand what had escaped his mouth.
The Location Seed pulsed once in the dirt. Its blue tendrils brightened, especially the ones reaching toward its twin, then dimmed again, marking the path of the one already on his way.
Dezcrin would come.
Not through the gate, and not as some distant voice peering through a crimson wound, but in person.
The realization moved through the camp like a second predator.
Evrin felt Evris tighten beside him. Her hand clutched his sleeve hard enough to make her fingers tremble.
"Evrin," she whispered. "We need to go."
He knew.
The chains still bound their ankles, and the iron ball dragged through the dirt between them instead of hanging above their heads. Rist's grip had failed during the chaos, and no one had taken hold of the lead again.
Not yet.
That single failure was the only reason they still had a chance, small and foolish as it was. It would likely kill them before they reached the trees, but it was still more than they had been given since the moment the chains were locked around them.
Evrin looked across the camp.
Marek stood near the Primals, half-hidden behind their strength, still clutching the prize like a starving thing defending its last piece of food. Kestin hovered near the supplies, ready to flee the moment survival pointed in a useful direction. Rist remained pale from blood loss, his wounded arm trembling over the seed.
Everyone was watching the Adaptic.
No one was watching the slaves.
Evrin swallowed.
"When I move," he whispered, "run with me. Do not stop. Do not look back."
Evris stared at him.
"The chain is too heavy."
"I know."
"We will be slow."
"Then we do not stop."
Evrin looked down at the chains dragging from their ankles. It was a terrible answer, but it was the only one he had.
Across the camp, the Adaptic moved.
Only one pointed limb shifted against the dirt, but the human Primal reacted before the creature could turn that motion into escape. Evrin did not see him run. One instant, the man stood near the broken edge of the firelight, blade angled toward the Adaptic as he guarded the only clear path into the dark. The next, he was already in front of it, his blade flashing low and carving a clean line through the dirt before the creature's face.
A warning strike.
The Adaptic recoiled, then snapped forward again, faster than before.
The Vyx Primal cast another of Dezcrin's seeds into the dirt beside it.
The seed burst open. Veins erupted upward, not as a wall this time, but as hooked strands that lashed toward the Adaptic's limbs. They wrapped around one leg, then another, tightening with spiked, organic force.
The creature struck the ground hard.
Kestin exhaled in relief.
"Oh, good. Horrible vein trap. Love those. Very tasteful."
The Adaptic's crystal eye clicked toward the bindings.
Its chitin shifted.
The hooked veins tightened.
The Adaptic tore away part of its own trapped limb plating and slipped one leg free.
The Vyx Primal's eye narrowed.
"It sacrifices growth to escape restraint?"
"Then restrain it again!" Marek snapped.
The human Primal's blade flicked toward Marek without the man fully turning.
Marek went silent.
That was when Evrin moved.
He seized the slack between the chains and pulled with everything he had. The iron ball lurched after him, carving a heavy groove through the dirt.
Evris moved with him, stumbling once before she caught herself. Together, they slipped behind a stack of packs and broken tools, keeping low as the camp erupted into motion around the Adaptic again.
No one shouted. No one gave an order. No hand closed around the lead.
For three heartbeats, the chaos swallowed them completely.
Then Kestin went still.
His head turned slightly toward the scrape of iron over stone, and his eyes widened.
"Uh… Boss?"
Evrin ran.
The chain shrieked across dirt and broken rock, loud enough to rip through the camp like a confession. Marek spun toward the sound, and the hook of his mechanical arm jerked after it as if the thing wanted to drag the twins back by itself.
Marek took a quick peak to where Kestin was pointing.
"HEY!"
Evrin did not stop.
Evris ran beside him, her breath breaking apart in her throat. The iron ball dragged behind them, smashing through ash, scraping over roots, and catching on every cursed thing the ground could offer.
"Rist!" Marek roared. "The slaves!"
Rist tried to rise, but his wounded body betrayed him. He lunged for the chain, fingers straining, but caught only empty air.
Evrin pulled harder. The ball tore loose from a root and rolled after them with a heavy, brutal thud.
For one impossible second, they reached the edge of the firelight.
Then Kestin moved.
He dropped two packs, bounded over a fallen log, and sprinted after them on long, quick strides. His arms stretched forward as if he meant to scoop them both up at once.
"Come on!" he shouted. "Do not make me do this! I am already having the worst night of my life!"
Evrin dragged Evris into the brush.
Branches whipped across their faces. Black leaves tore at their clothes. The chain hammered through the undergrowth behind them, too loud, too heavy, too slow.
Kestin was faster.
Of course he was faster.
Evrin heard him crashing closer through the brush, his steps cutting through the dark with sickening ease.
"Evrin!" Evris gasped.
"Keep going!"
"He is right behind us!"
Evrin knew.
Kestin burst through the brush and caught Evris by the back of her torn tunic.
She cried out.
Evrin twisted and grabbed her with both hands, yanking her toward him with everything his starving body had left.
The chains snapped tight.
All four links pulled at once, dragging against their ankles. The iron ball caught behind them in a knot of roots and dead brush, locking the whole miserable apparatus in place for a single breath.
Kestin had them.
His grip tightened.
Then something shrieked behind him.
The sound was not animal. It was chitin, pain, and awakening scraped raw across the edge of the world.
Kestin looked back toward the camp.
Blue light flashed through the trees as the Location Seed burned brighter at the camp's center. Its tendrils pulsed faster across the ground, and each flare was answered by a low, rhythmic thrum from somewhere beyond the firelight. The sound deepened with every pulse, growing louder and nearer until it no longer felt like a signal.
It felt like something was answering.
Then a heavy impact struck the earth far in the distance, and the whole forest seemed to flinch.
Dezcrin was getting closer.
Kestin looked at Evris, then at Evrin, then down at the chains cutting into their ankles.
His face twisted with fear and anger, but there was something else beneath it, something Evrin did not know how to name.
"You stupid little nightmares," Kestin whispered.
His hand dropped to the iron ball caught between them.
For a breath, Evrin thought he was going to drag them back. Instead, Kestin's fingers found the locking pin where the ball's chain joined the ankle restraints. He twisted hard. Metal scraped, clicked, and gave way.
The ball dropped fully into the dirt with a heavy thud.
Evrin stared at him.
Kestin shoved Evris forward instead of pulling her back.
"Run!" he hissed. "And if anyone asks, I slipped."
Evris understood before Evrin did. She grabbed his arm and pulled him after her. The chains still bit around their ankles, but without the iron ball dragging between them, they could move.
Behind them, Kestin kicked the loose ball into a tangle of roots, then threw himself sideways into the brush with a loud, ugly crash.
"Damn it!" he shouted, pitching his voice back toward the camp. "Boss! Roots caught the ball! The chain came loose!"
Evrin looked back once.
Kestin was already scrambling upright, one hand pressed against his ribs, his eyes fixed on the chaos burning through the trees behind them.