Darkness presses in as Xia and I move cautiously through the narrow street. The night amplifies every sound—the rustling of fabric, the crunch of our footsteps on uneven ground, the distant murmur of voices. We hunch low, staying out of sight.
Torchlight casts distorted shapes along the alley’s edges, making it harder to judge how close the soldiers are. The rhythmic thudding of their boots echoes in my ears.
Each step feels more laborious than the last. My body aches, and pain proves my vulnerability. My focus narrows to putting one foot in front of the other. Even walking is a slow drain of energy threatening to consume me.
Xia reaches out, steadying me. Her urgent grasp is gentle amid the chaos. I catch her outline in the light. She controls her breathing, a stark contrast to my ragged gasps. We exchange a brief look—no words necessary. We scan ahead, searching for the next safe spot to hide.
The alley twists, narrowing even further until we have to squeeze past a gap in the stonework. I bite back a groan as pain flares in my ribs. A few more steps; I can make it a few more.
When we stop, Xia flattens herself against the wall. She pulls me close beside her. What I see in the open square makes my blood run cold. Torches burn in a hazardous sea of light, each carried by a soldier. Dozens are fanning throughout the streets. Their presence turns the square into a maze of danger.
Xia and I lock onto each other, the torchlight allowing brief glimpses of our profiles. She doesn’t have to say it; I already know. This is a hunt. We are the prey.
We hurry away from the square. I search for any possible escape route, but the buildings loom high on either side. Xia moves ahead of me at a steady pace. I can’t shake the gnawing belief that we’re moving toward a trap.
My heart sinks when my prophecy comes true. We come to a halt, blocked by a wall of stone. My hands ball into fists as frustration surges inside me.
Xia doesn’t flinch. Instead, she marches forward, approaching a section of the wall that appears no different from the rest. She turns back to me, her eyes gleaming in the faint light. “Trust me,” Xia whispers before knocking on a thin piece of metal hanging from a rope. Three slow thuds, then two quick ones, and finally a single, forceful slap.
For a moment, nothing happens. My muscles tense with anticipation. Then, from the gloom, a figure materializes. I reach for the dagger at my side.
Xia moves quickly, stepping between us before I can act. “It’s okay,” she hisses, her arm stretched out to block my path. “He’s on our side.”
The stranger stays hunched, his form swallowed beneath layers of tattered fabric. A hood drapes over his face. His posture suggests a spine twisted by age or affliction. The stranger’s attention shifts to Xia. Bony fingers peek from the folds of his shawl.
Xia pulls a small pouch out of her tunic. She tosses it to him, and it jingles as it lands in his palm. Without a word, he pushes against a façade of stones. A concealed door swings inward, revealing a staircase descending into the ground. A damp, musty smell wafts up from the depths, filling the air around us. The stranger steps back into obscurity.
Xia’s voice is a drawn blade. “Let’s go.”
I pause, casting a wary glance at the stranger.
“Now,” Xia urges.
The army behind us is closing in, so I follow her into the passageway. The stone steps are slick beneath my feet, forcing me to use the walls for support as we descend. Murk closes in around us, swallowing the sounds from above as the door creaks shut behind us. We’re inside, enclosed in a network of tunnels that stretch out like veins beneath the town.
The stranger stays behind. I am unsure of why he is helping, causing tension to stretch between us before he seals off the entrance. The last trace of the surface world disappears, leaving only the sound of our hurried footsteps. Each stride echoes off the narrow walls as we descend deeper underground.
The narrow passageway stretches onward, dimly lit by sporadic torches anchored to the walls at irregular intervals. The flickering light casts distorted images, turning the stone into a writhing serpent. I move behind Xia, who leads the way. It is challenging to keep up. Her pace is quick and sure-footed despite the oppressive darkness.
Our footsteps are a rhythmic beat magnified by the corridor. My hand slides along the damp wall for support. The stones’ chill numbs my fingertips.
From elsewhere, a noise breaks through—a muffled clash followed by restrained shouts. The sound is a menacing growl rolling down the passage, reverberating off the walls. Someone else has found a way into the tunnel. I freeze, the blood draining from my cheeks. I am not prepared to fight. My intuition beckons me to meet the danger head-on despite my weakened state. Thankfully, my mind knows this is folly.
Xia stops, tilting forward as she listens. Her lips purse. She waves for me to keep moving forward.
We pick up the pace. The passage shrinks at points where I have to duck to avoid the low-hanging ceiling. The walls close in, and rough stone scrapes against my shoulders. The urgency bears down on us, dread twisting in my gut.
A metallic clang echoes, this time from behind. Violence draws nearer. The tunnel is not a safe passage; it’s a trap, a maze with danger around every corner.
It reminds me of a mission when I was twenty-two.
The Phylax sent me to the Palace of Knossos to kill King Rhadamanthys. The palace was a sprawling structure, rumored to be the home of the legendary half-man, half-bull, Minotaur. Its corridors twisted unpredictably, creating a labyrinth that confounded even the greatest warriors. These tunnels feel eerily similar. Every corner potentially leads to a dead end or ambush.
I remember how I crept around the tangled passages of Knossos, nervously listening for any movement. Back then, I felt the same cold sweat running down my spine, the same sense of a hunt. Here, beneath this ancient city, it’s as though the maze has come alive again. This time, I am not the predator stalking my prey—I am the prey, scrambling for any chance of escape.
We round another bend when two soldiers emerge from a side tunnel, blocking our path. Torchlight glints off their drawn blades. The world seems to freeze. My muscles coil, but I’m slow to react.
Xia, however, doesn’t falter. She first engages the larger man who is at least a foot taller than her. In a blur of motion, she lunges forward. Her movements are a deadly dance in the dull light. The soldier swings his sword. Xia twists her body effortlessly, slipping under the strike. She drives her knuckles into his throat with more power than someone of her stature should. At first, he wheezes, but Xia silences him with a kick across his head. He drops to his knees and then collapses to his side. I’m not sure if he will ever wake up.
Before the second soldier can react, Xia’s arm snaps out like a whip. She strikes the nerve cluster just below his collarbone. He jerks back, off balance. With the same fluid motion, she drives a devastating side-kick into his knee. The joint buckles with a sickening pop, sending him crashing sideways into the stone wall. His head bounces off the rock with a dull crack before he crumples to the ground. His legs twist unnaturally beneath him. Neither soldier can follow us.
I stand frozen, unable to look away. Healers rarely know how to unleash such violence. I struggle to comprehend what I have witnessed. Xia, the woman who has been tending to my wounds, has easily dismantled two trained soldiers. This fierce, lethal figure replaces the healer. Her actions have an efficiency that speaks of formal training. Where has she learned to fight like that?
Doubt digs its claws deeper into me. I want to trust Xia—she has saved me. Yet, I know almost nothing about the person leading me into this maze of uncertainty.
The tunnel finally widens, and the air freshens as we near the exit. A glimmer of moonlight spills in from the opening ahead, casting a silvery glow on the walls. When we emerge into the open air, I stumble to a halt. My interest locks onto the sight before us.
Horses stand tied to a post, a perfect means of escape. This is no coincidence. Someone has planned our exact route. My gaze shifts to Xia, who moves to untie the horses. The image of her shifts again in my imagination, becoming more confusing. Who is she really? A healer, a warrior, or something else entirely?
Before I can think any further, a figure steps in from the dark. A lone soldier blocks our path, his weapon gleaming in the moonlight. Xia moves to intercept. She is ready for combat. The soldier wastes no time, launching into a series of strikes that force Xia back. She dodges, except I can already see that this fight is different. This soldier is more skilled and relentless.
The advantage is his. Xia loses ground, her fluidity buckling to his brute strength. I watch as she narrowly avoids a swing that would have cut her down. She needs help, but I’m barely standing. The remnants of my stamina ebb with each exhale, yet I cannot watch her die. I will be next on the soldier’s kill list.
I gather my strength to creep forward, keeping out of the soldier’s periphery. Every step sends pain through my battered body. The clashing of steel fills the air, each strike an echoing anvil. The soldier pushes harder, a true predator.
As I inch closer, Xia stumbles, her foot shifting on loose dirt. The soldier sees his chance. His blade rises high for the final strike. Time seems to slow, every second stretching thin.
I rush forward. Adrenaline surges, numbing everything except the need to act. The soldier’s focus remains fixed on Xia; he doesn’t notice me until my fingers are already on his belt. My fingers fumble before closing around the hilt of his dagger. Surprise flashes across his face as I rip the blade free.
With all the strength I can muster, I drive the dagger upward. The blade finds a gap beneath his dark armor, sinking into flesh. Warm blood gushes over my hand. The soldier chokes out a strangled mix of disbelief and agony. Before he falls, he lands an elbow into my side, where my wound struggles to heal.
For a flash, our eyes meet—his full of shock, mine filled with pain. Then he collapses into the dirt, lifeless. I stagger back, the dagger slipping from my trembling fingers. The world sways. Dizziness claws at my vision. It takes a minute before I can force myself to steady.
Pain flares through my side; blood soaks into my clothing. Xia approaches, cautiously scanning me.
“You saved me,” she whispers.
Just as she saved me.
“I don’t leave my debts unpaid,” she says firmly before untying the remaining horse. “Quick, get on,” she urges.
I wipe my bloodied hands on the hem of my cloak. Xia steadies me as I mount the horse. The danger closing in on us leaves no time for hesitation. We spur the horses forward, racing into the cover of night.
As we gallop away, the echoes of shouts and pursuit fade behind us. I hold my side as we ride. Pain flares with each stride of the horse. Being re-injured will delay my departure by another day. I know I must carry on by myself as soon as possible, especially considering Xia’s discreet talents. The scene replays in my imagination—the stranger at the tunnel’s mouth, the soldiers, Xia’s deadly skills. The mysteries around her grow deeper with each passing heartbeat, leaving me to wonder how much more there is that I don’t know. The desert’s darkness stretches on, pulling us into whatever lies beyond.