Mika ran.
He ran through the twisted forest, over roots and rocks, under low-hanging branches.
He ducked behind trees at exactly the right moment, causing their pursuers to lose sight of them.
He crawled through undergrowth so thick that the grown warriors couldn't follow.
He doubled back, created false trails, used every trick imaginable to throw them off.
He moved with an agility that seemed impossible for a child his age.
And somehow he managed to escape from the initial chase.
Astrid clung to his back, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs dangling uselessly.
She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, could hear his breathing growing more labored with each passing minute.
But he never stopped. Never slowed. Never gave up.
Behind them, the sounds of pursuit faded.
They had lost them.
Temporarily.
—
The demi-human warriors gathered in the forest, breathing hard, their faces twisted with rage.
"WHERE DID THEY GO?!"
