Page 20 of The Last Syphon

“Go! Go! Everybody, go!” she yelled, running forward. “Down into the hideouts! Now!” There was pushing and shoving, yelling and cursing. Everyone was losing their minds as they tried to grab their loved ones and find a safe place to hide. “Felix! Help get the youthens into the ground!”

He nodded and took off.

Fraener stood next to the hut, his focus on the army. A mixture of different emotions bombarded Inara all at once, but she didn’t have the time to work them out.

“Where is Kenton?!” she yelled out.

“He’s passed out in the tavern!” Ploas answered as he ran past, dragging his husband behind him.

Of course he bloody is.

Inara bolted straight for the tavern across the way, weaving in and out of frightened villagers. Bursting inside, she found Kenton knocked out at the counter, drool slipping from his mouth, snoring his head off.

The idiot had gotten so drunk he couldn’t even hear the gong blaring into the air—their warning system for any unwelcome visitors.

She sent her shield out in a fast concussive burst. It hit Kenton on the side and sent him flying. He crashed harshly on the ground with a grunt.

“What’d ya do that for?!” he sluggishly barked.

“Snap the Fates out of it, Kenton! The Arelian Army is here!”

He sobered up in an instant, his face dropping. He scrambled to his feet and ran outside, Inara hot on his heels.

It was utter mayhem.

Inara thought arriving yesterday on a dragon had been bad, but that paled in comparison to this.

Everyone was running in different directions with absolutely no sense of what was going on or what to do. Some were crying. Others were screaming. She caught a glimpse of Felix running towards her with Mrs Reddington’s two small youthens under his arms. Patrick and Nata were fighting over some menial item.

Beatrix, a thief in a village of thieves, was stuffing things into her rucksack that definitely did not belong to her.

Inara understood everyone’s behaviour. The Arelian Army had a terrifying reputation, known for leaving no one alive after they had swept through. But the village needed to get a fucking grip and remember their plan for situations like this.

She put two fingers in her mouth and blew out a loud, ear-piercing whistle.

It had the attended effect.

Everyone froze.

“Calm down,” Inara said loudly, her hands up and voice strong despite the fear curling in the pit of her stomach. “Remember our plan. The youthens, the elderly, and the Powerless, into the caverns.” She looked at the dark-haired male at her side. “Kenton?”

He nodded and drew in a deep, steadying breath, closing his blue eyes. Magic flared out all around him. His hands snapped together and then slowly began to move apart. The ground trembled, solid chunks shifting to reveal the secret underground tunnels that ran beneath Deadhaven.

“Go, go.” Inara urged.

The villagers began to climb down one by one.

Kenton possessed the ability to control the elements of the earth—rocks, dirt—even being able to split the ground in two. Though Inara had only ever seen him do that once, and it had resulted in him reaching past his reserves and passing out from magical overuse.

At Inara’s command, he’d used his magic to slowly create a network of tunnels over time to hide the people of Deadhaven in case of emergencies. It would lead them away from the village and further into the Borderlands.

“Cezar,” Inara called out to the tall male with long hair and dark brown eyes. “You go down there with them, and when Kenton closes the earth back over the entryway, keep an eye on things up here from down there. If things look like they’re turning bad, lead our people through the tunnels and out the other end.” She stared him down, her next words filling her with dread. “They’ll look to you to guide them. Take care of them.”

He nodded, jaw tense. Cezar had heightened vision. He not only had the ability to see through anything—thick solid walls, the harsh, dense water of the Shadowed Seas—but he could also see far off into the distance. He was the one who manned the alarm for the village because he could see anyone approaching from miles away. He was a man of few words; by few, she meant none. Cezar didn’t speak because he had his tongue cut out as punishment for being caught stealing in Roylan, but he was a good man. Strong. Dependable.

When the last of the remaining villagers had climbed down into the caverns, Inara ordered Kenton to close them. There were roughly one hundred people residing in Deadhaven, more than half of whom were now tucked away safely in case the worst happened. The rest would help defend their home if it came to it.

Though, she really hoped it would not.