As they drew near, Callum's light stone illuminated them, and the formless darkness took shape. Six figures, most of them burly, but one broad-shouldered female and a tall, lithe male.

And all of them carried blades.

Ash screamed. Callum shoved her body further behind him, positioning himself between her and the approaching threat.

Feet pounded against the shallow part of the water, and for a moment, she feared more people approached from behind, but then a familiar voice called, "Odella!"

Sanford. She had completely forgotten about him. He produced two daggers from somewhere and flung them. Grunts sounded from the direction of the attackers.

"Get her out of here!" Sanford barked as he drew closer. "Find your guards and get them here quickly, boy!"

The command shocked Callum into action. He took Ash's hand in her own and started running as fast as he could with the sand giving beneath their feet.

"Wait, no, we can't leave him!" Ash tried to resist, but Callum's pull didn't slacken. All she could do was glance over her shoulder toward her twin's companion.

He pulled a blade from its sheath, something he never left the inn without. His training never let him, he'd explained, and it proved useful this night. That same training kept him alive as his sword danced through the air, deflecting incoming strikes and slashing out in ones of his own. He may have been outnumbered, but his skill proved far superior. Somehow, he was keeping these attackers at bay.

At least until the lithe man, the only one she now saw was unarmed, darted around Sanford's defensive flurry. As if sensing her fearful gaze, the man met her eyes and grinned.

Fangs protruded where his canines should have been, and slitted pupils sliced through his vivid blue eyes.

She stumbled. A disastrous misstep on already treacherous land. Her ankle twisted. She would have gone down if Callum hadn't stopped to catch her.

"Are you alrig—"

His words faded into nothing when a figure sprinted past them. Callum half-turned, cradling Ash in his arms. The slit-eyed man stood before them, a small smirk playing on his lips. Callum still gripped his light stone, and in its illumination, she saw what she'd assumed to be blond hair was a soft white, and what looked like spiked parts of it were ears.

Was this truly a man, or was he some sort of Terror?

He tsked and wagged a finger at them as if they were naughty children he'd caught. "We can't have you running away to get help."

Callum shifted Ash behind him, keeping her as close to his back as he could. "You are foolish to attack tonight," he said. "The Holy Guard will be close, and I'm sure they've heard the ruckus you've stirred. They will come, and they will leave none of you alive."

The man barked out a laugh. "We won't be here long enough. Now, don't make me use force. Nobody likes damaged goods, but you will be coming with us, one way or another."

If not for Callum's grip on her, Ash would have scurried away. Damaged goods. Coming with them. This wasn't just an attack; it was a kidnapping.

Callum inched back, pressing closer to Ash. He squeezed her hand before releasing it, but he didn't move his arm. "So you think."

The strange man shrugged. "If you believe that—"

But Callum didn't let him finish. With a quick, whispered, "Run!" to Ash, he leaped forward, arm drawn back. The man blocked the incoming punch, but the forward momentum sent them both tumbling into the sand.

"Odella, go!" Callum shouted when she stood, gaping. "Get help—gah!" His words cut off with a scream.

The man had curled his fingers into Callum's sides, somehow piercing through his robes and into his flesh. Blood seeped out and stained the white cloth.

Help, her mind screamed, but her body took two steps in the opposite direction of where any source of help would be. Away from this unnatural man with fingernails that could pierce skins and eyes that gleamed with malicious glee as his prey writhed beneath him. You need to get help.

Tears of frustration and fear spilled from her eyes when her body refused to move. Her heartbeat slammed into her ribcage. A savage mockery, racing when everything else about her remained locked in place. Her ears ranged. At first, she thought from blood, but a moment later, she realized she heard the clash of metal against metal.

Until a scream cut through the cacophony.

She didn't want to see it, but like a marionette pulled by strings, she turned. Her insides churned, acid creeping up her throat and burning the back of her mouth.

Sanford kneeled on one knee. Half the fingers on his right hand were gory lumps, a bloody gash slashed through his left eye and across his face, and a dagger protruded from his left shoulder.

A single man against so many opponents. He hadn't stood a chance. Deep down, she believed he had known that. Had chosen to give his life to give them a chance to escape. And here she was, squandering it.

He lifted a quaking arm to parry an incoming swing. A spirited attempt, but it did nothing to block a stab from the other direction.

The sword just appeared on the other side of Sanford's head. Because it must have gotten there by magic. No other explanation fit. She hadn't just watched someone drive a blade through his skull.

The noble man who had given up his life as a knight to help in ways his position hadn't allowed, who had followed her sister for over a sol, providing both protection and companionship, who watched in comfortable vigil as the younger ones conversed and joked around.

She'd barely known him, and he'd risked himself for a lie. He deserved so much better than that. He couldn't be dead.

A pressure built at her core and clawed its way through her body. It ripped itself from her in the form of a shriek. With the release of the pressure, her body crumbled. She hit the ground with the sound still tearing from her throat.

The burly man who had delivered the killing blow yanked his sword free, and Sanford's body swayed before thumping to the ground. His blood splattered across the sand, tainting it red.

"Kill the girl to shut her up!" A voice behind her. The strange man, alone with Callum, calling for the death of a girl.

Her. The kidnappers were supposed to kill her now.

"No, leave her alone. Odella, run, now!" Callum shouted. He grunted, and the strange man said something too low for her to hear.

Sanford's blood formed small pools in the sand. The grains flew as the attackers rushed forward, one carelessly kicking Sanford's head on the way.

Fear seized Ash's lungs in its ruthless grasp. Roan. Her mind screamed for the Scion. A plea, a prayer. Begging the one person she believed could save them to appear and make this madness end.

Roan. Willow. Linden. Odella. Anyone.

But none of them would hear her. She was alone, and the enemies were closing in, their blades drawing closer, death's promise on their wicked curves.

A sudden explosion of pain shattered her panicked thoughts. Her screaming didn't stop, but it turned into something more choked as she dug her fingers into her scalp. It did nothing to ease the throbbing. Another pressure built in her middle, but it shuddered through her every part of her being.

Only when it coated her entire body did she realize what it was—her magic, except now it didn't lay over her skin like a silky cloth. It prickled and stabbed at her as it burst forth in waves of colors. Reds, blues, and yellows filled her vision and swirled together to make new colors.

She caught flashes of images in the barrage of light. A man carrying a giant axe. A woman wearing a bloody gown but missing her head. An abomination of a creature prowling forward.

The attackers' screams rose with her own.

"Ye should be dead!"

"Kill the beast before it kills us all!"

Something hard slammed against the back of Ash's head. The colors cleared, but her vision swam as she fell forward. She barely kept herself upright with the sand giving under her outstretched arms. Light spots and tears blurred her vision. A hand tangled in her hair and yanked her upward again.

The man kneeled at her side, his head tilted and an eyebrow raised. "You've been cursed, have you?" he asked. "We weren't told we'd find one of you here, but then again, our friend hasn't been very forthcoming with information." Something about that made him frown, but he shook it away.

Gritting her teeth, Ash grabbed at the man and pried at his fingers. Huffing, he pushed the tips of his claws into her head, eliciting another scream from her now-raw throat. She whimpered, and fresh tears flowed freely down her face.

"Grab the boy," the slit-eyed man instructed. He reached into his pocket. "At least he gave me extra. Here. Be a good little girl and don't make this any more difficult than you already have."

The boy. Callum. He was still there, alive, and she was the only one there to help him. Despite all his bravado, she had a horrible feeling that the man had been right. The guards wouldn't realize something was amiss until too late. They'd been too focused on keeping people within the town away, so they were positioned far from the beach. She couldn't give up.

The man brought his hand forward, something clasped in his fingers, but she didn't take time to see what it was. She threw herself against the man, ignoring the way the movement caused a sharp tug of her hair and a stinging cut along her scalp.

With a curse, the man fell backwards, his grip loosening. Ash rolled away from him before he could grab at her again. She scrambled forward, searching for Callum. He hadn't made any noise for a while, but she must have just missed it, because they wanted to kidnap him. That meant he couldn't be dead.

Finally, she located him. Another scream almost burst from her lungs, but a hand clamped over her mouth before it could.

Callum slumped on the ground, completely motionless.

Her chest heaved, and her eyes burned even as she noticed the slight twitch of Callum's fingers and the rise and fall of his chest. Not dead, then, only unconscious.

A mixture of rage and helplessness rose in a wave as she opened her mouth and bit down on the disgusting hand pressed against her lips. Whoever held her yelped and pulled their hand away. Ash lurched forward. She only got a single step closer to Callum before she was grabbed again and forced back against a wide chest.

"Ye's not going anywhere," a man growled into her ear.

"Both of you," the slit-eyed man growled, walking around the one holding her, "have proven so stubborn while we are taking the kindest route."

In response, Ash kicked his shin.

His eyes flashed, and his hand darted forward. She braced for a slap, but instead, he cupped a hand around her jaw and squeezed.

Ash cried at the sudden pain. She struggled and lashed out with her legs. The man stepped forward so only mere inches separated them, his body's closeness almost pinning her legs down, and brought his other hand up. The hand pinching something between his fingers. Leaves, she could see now. He placed them in her mouth before she could fight herself free and just as quickly clamped her mouth closed with his hands.

Ash thrashed, but the most this earned her was a coldly amused chuckle. A too-strong citrus taste tainted her saliva as a scream beat against her lips, begging to be released, but the slit-eyed man kept her mouth firmly shut.

Tears blurred her vision, but she didn't miss the way the world swayed. She couldn't taste the leaves or even feel them there. Her tongue felt too large for her mouth. A heaviness settled on her shoulders. She no longer shoved against the man holding her, instead slumping against him as he became the only thing holding her upright.

She would not be conscious for much longer. The last of her fight left, and a final sob wracked her body. Unless by some miracle, she would be kidnapped.

No, they would be kidnapped. Against the drowsy fog weighing her eyelids, she dragged her gaze to Callum's figure.

Roan, she thought as darkness rose. Please, Roan. Find me. Just like he had in that desperate moment when she thought all was lost for her sister.

With that last prayer on her mind and Callum's prone body in her sight, she fell into oblivion.

*****

So... Who had kidnapping on their bingo card of how this story would go? XD Bet you all were waiting for her to wrap up Odella's mission, but no way >:D Poor Sanford had to pay the price for plot forwarding, but hey.  At least it wasn't Callum!  Let's see if anyone, including Roan, can save these two.

Let me know your thoughts on the chapter down below, and if you enjoyed it, don't forget to vote and comment! I also have a discord open to anyone who wants to join, and we have a section there to discuss the book :D Let me know if you want to join!