Chapter 65: The Price of Escape
The high of their desperate victory vanished, replaced by the cold, sharp reality of their situation. Elias was a dead weight in Lyra's arms, his breathing a shallow, rattling whisper. Ronan stood over the body of Scar-face, his chest heaving, his good hand clenched around the hilt of his bloodied sword. The wind, which had moments before felt like an ally masking their approach, now sounded like the mocking laughter of the glacier itself.
"Luna, do you copy? A dozen signatures, maybe more! ETA five minutes, maybe less! They're moving fast!" Finn's voice was a frantic buzz in her ear, cracking with static.
Five minutes. It might as well have been five seconds. They were deep in hostile territory, one of them critically wounded, another bleeding, and their only exit was about to be blocked by a superior force.
"Ronan," Lyra said, her voice strained as she tried to lift her brother. "We have to move. Now."
