I skidded across the loose clay tiles, my heart pounding as I vaulted onto another low rooftop. Shouts echoed from the alley behind me, punctuated by the clank of armor. Guard 2 and Guard 3—finally free from the collapse of canvas I’d caused earlier—were giving chase. The sun’s last rays bathed the sandstone city in a fiery glow, turning every roof and wall into a patchwork of flickering shadows.

  My lungs burned. Behind me, one of the guards shouted for reinforcements, his voice ragged but determined. I risked a glance over my shoulder: they were closing in. One slip, one misstep, and I’d be at their mercy in the cramped streets below.

  “Why couldn’t they have just stayed tangled up?” I muttered through gritted teeth.

  {Hardly their style,} Aurentum’s voice answered in my mind—calm, resonant, and maddeningly unruffled. {But it bought you time, did it not?}

  I didn’t bother replying. Instead, I rushed toward a rickety scaffold leaning against a taller building, debris from half-finished renovations littering its base. The boards creaked underfoot, and for a moment, I thought they might give way entirely. But they held. I took the risk, ascending quickly.

  Below, Guard 2 pointed, calling out my position. Guard 3 kicked aside a broken ladder to clear a path. Within seconds, they were following me up, their weapons clinking against the wooden supports.

  {They are determined,} Aurentum observed. His obsidian crystal form hovered just above my shoulder, flickering with subdued luminescence. {You cannot simply outrun them forever. Turn this environment to your advantage. Disrupt them. Make them hesitate.}

  “Yeah, I got it,” I hissed, trying to keep my voice down.

  Reaching the top of the scaffold, I crouched low, drawing an arrow from my quiver. My arms ached from the day’s exertions—bowstring after bowstring, shot after shot—but I couldn’t afford to rest. Not with the guards practically breathing down my neck.

  A gust of wind rattled the scaffold, sending dust swirling into the twilight sky. The city sprawled around me in a confusion of rooftops, market stalls, and winding alleys. Distant torches flickered, and the mingled scent of cooking fires and desert spice rolled in the breeze.

  {Steady yourself,} Aurentum intoned as I nocked an arrow. {This shot should serve more than just injury—it should create chaos. Cause them to pause, to doubt. That hesitation might be all you need.}

  I let my breath out slowly and peeked over the edge. Guard 2 was already halfway up the scaffold, and Guard 3 had paused to circle around from another angle, no doubt planning to flank me. Time was short.

  I drew the bowstring back, aiming at a stack of old clay pots near the guards. If I could crack a few, the tumbling shards might buy me a precious second or two. With a silent prayer, I released the arrow. It flew true, striking the pots in a resounding crash of shattered ceramic. Fragments exploded across the planks, and Guard 2 flinched back, arms raised to shield his face.

  {Not the most elegant tactic,} Aurentum remarked, a faint edge to his mental voice, {but it serves. Now, move.}

  Taking that advice, I darted across the rooftop’s edge. A large wrought-iron bell tower loomed ahead—once a proud landmark of the district, now half-crumbling from neglect. The wind whistled through gaping cracks in its masonry. If I could reach that vantage, maybe I’d have a higher ground to fire from—or at least a place to breathe for a moment.

  But even as I sprinted for the tower, a hiss of air near my cheek told me I’d been spotted. An arrow clattered off a worn chimney to my right, sending sparks and chipped stone tumbling away.

  My stomach twisted. “They’re not giving me any room, are they?”

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  {Then stop running,} Aurentum chided. {Stand and fight, or create a barrier. Anything but sprinting in a straight line. You’re becoming predictable.}

  I ground my teeth. He wasn’t wrong. Halting near a sagging wooden beam, I slid behind an ancient gargoyle—one of many that ringed the bell tower’s perimeter—using its grotesque snout as cover. Through the corner of my eye, I saw Guard 3 leaping between rooftops, sword in hand. Guard 2 was right behind, flexing his injured shoulder. Neither looked eager to retreat.

  “How many arrows left?” I mumbled, checking my quiver. I grimaced. Not enough.

  {Then make each shot count,} Aurentum replied.

  No time for another plan. Guard 3 advanced faster than I’d expected, weaving across the rooftop with surprising agility. I nocked an arrow and loosed it hastily. It nicked his upper arm, drawing a hiss of pain—but not enough to drop him. He ducked behind a low parapet, returning fire with a quick slash of his shortbow. His arrow clanked off the gargoyle’s weathered stone, inches from my face.

  I swore under my breath. Another miss on my part. I was dangerously low on stamina and couldn't use aim yet. Another reminder of how close I was to failing.

  The scaffolding behind me shuddered, and I realized Guard 2 was clambering up the bell tower’s outer ledge, trying to come at me from above. If I stayed pinned down, I’d be flanked.

  {Do something,} Aurentum urged, his telepathic tone verging on impatience. {Your indecision is dangerously close to surrender.}

  Snapping out of my paralysis, I launched myself away from the gargoyle and scrambled up a set of crumbling stairs toward the tower’s belfry level. Above, I could see the weathered brass bell swaying gently in the night breeze. Maybe I could use it as a distraction—or at least put some distance between me and the guards.

  My boots slipped on cracked mortar, and I nearly fell. Catching my balance at the last second, I continued upward until I reached a narrow balcony that ringed the tower’s top. The vantage gave me a commanding view of the city: flickering lights stretched into the distance, and the faint cry of a muezzin floated across the rooftops.

  I hazarded a look back. Guard 2 was mere steps below, scaling the last rung of a broken ladder. Guard 3 stood on a lower rooftop, leveling a drawn arrow at me.

  {They have you triangulated,} Aurentum noted. {Break their formation. And quickly.}

  “Easy for you to say,” I muttered, lungs burning.

  I fumbled at my belt pouch and withdrew a small vial of Blaze—the same illicit powder I’d sworn I’d never use. But the city watch wasn’t giving me a choice. With practiced haste, I dipped a few arrowheads into the powder, then stowed the vial. A potent hiss of energy clung to the arrow tips, swirling in faint embers of orange light.

  Just then, Guard 3 let his arrow fly. I barely managed to duck; it whistled over my head, lodging into the wooden railing behind me. The next shot would be fatal if I stayed in one place.

  “Time to improvise,” I whispered.

  I leapt behind the rotting beam that supported the bell’s ancient pulley system. With a quick motion, I notched a Blaze-coated arrow and aimed downward at Guard 2, who was hauling himself over the final ledge. My arms trembled from fatigue, but I couldn’t hesitate now.

  I released. The arrow sang through the air, striking Guard 2’s arm. Blaze ignited on impact, flaring in a bright, searing glow. He howled, losing his grip on the ledge. For a moment, he dangled, face contorted in agony. Then he fell, clattering onto a lower scaffold in a cloud of splintered wood and dust.

  Guard 2 defeated. There was a deafening explosion as the blaze ignited the corpse. The flames lit up the night sky.

  {One down,} Aurentum remarked, that familiar condescending note in his voice. {But do hurry; the other is—}

  A shape darted in my peripheral vision. Guard 3 had abandoned his bow for a short sword and was sprinting up the belfry steps to close the distance. I had seconds—maybe less.

  I nocked another Blaze-tipped arrow and pivoted around the beam. Guard 3 saw the glimmer of the arrowhead too late. He lunged, but his momentum worked against him. My shot slammed into his

  Chest plate, lodging itself under a leather seam. Blaze hissed, releasing a tendril of scorching heat. He staggered with a guttural cry, sliding down the last few steps until he sprawled on the balcony floor.

  I stood there, panting, arms shaking with effort. Had I done it? Had I finally taken them down? Guard 2’s moans rose faintly from below, and Guard 3 wasn’t moving much besides ragged breaths. Even so, I knew reinforcements could arrive at any moment. There was no message from aurentum which confused me so I stared at the unmoving guard, uncertain.

  {You should leave. Now,} Aurentum’s mental voice cut through, no longer holding the haughty veneer. {Unless you fancy being surrounded at sunrise.}

  “Agreed,” I wheezed.

  But before I could move, the night sky rippled with a strange hum. A glowing orb—roughly the size of a man’s head—descended, trailing faint arcs of bluish energy that crackled in the air. My heart sank. It was a memory core, shimmering like a caged thunderstorm. Its presence always spelled complications.

  Aurentum’s crystal edges flickered in response, as though drawn by an unseen force.

  “No,” I whispered, voice catching in my throat. “Not now… not now!”