Barry felt himself freeze up at the thought that the alarm for the ferals would sound now. Kajou had mentioned they were barely at the tip of the feral rush and had been keeping ahead of the main body. And yet Barry had still seen at least a hundred ferals scattered about, running in a clear attempt to stray away from danger.

So now that he knew the main part of the rush was coming, he could only feel dread in the pit of his stomach.

“Move!” The proclamation came from Kajou. Her face turned to the Elves. “Prison. Where?”

No sooner had she spoken than two vines erupted from the ground, wrapping around Kajou’s ankles. The Amazon froze, looking at the two elves with a scowl. “We can’t leave him here, he’ll die.”

“You’re not vetted, we can’t let you move freely.”

“Then lead me to the prison cell so I can leave him there!”

“We can’t leave the wall unattended.”

A shrill scream echoed through the forest.

“I can help!” Kajou’s voice said. “But Barry needs to be put someplace safe!”

The taller of the two Elves grit her teeth, turning to the shorter one and sharing a nod. The shorter one quickly pulled out the blade from her sheathe and tossed it at Kajou. The Amazon didn’t hesitate, cutting down the vines and letting go of Barry.

“Follow me, quickly,” the shorter Elf proclaimed.

With a gesture of her wrist, a vine shot from her tunic, wrapping around Bary’s right wrist and tethering him to her belt as she began to walk away from the wall. The human had to run to keep up and avoid getting dragged through the ground.

His eyes locked on Kajou for a moment, but quickly shifted forward. The trees were thickening again. Something about their presence reminded him of the monster-sized trees that were over at where they’d crash-landed. Not quite as massive, but nothing to scoff at. It took Barry a fraction of a second to realize that the trees weren’t just larger, but that they were also occupied. Doors, windows, balconies. He barely had the chance to take a look at them before his gaze was drawn towards a singular source that demanded the full of his attention.

She was a frail woman, bony and thin, her skin a pulsating shadow that made her seem as if she were merely a black silhouette contained within a set of baggy purple robes. She was glowing, hovering atop a circle of glowing runes that glowed and wavered, their light drifting upwards as if it was snow rising into the sky. There were no less than a dozen armed maidens standing around the circle and looking fierce as the dark figure’s mouth moved in a silent chant.

Barry’s skin was tingling just from being this close to the source of the glow, his eyes entirely unable to look away. His red hair rustled against the slight breeze blowing his way.

Which is why he missed the lumbering armored woman as she placed a gloved hand on his shoulder and pinned him in place. “Found you, you little…” The woman spun him around, Barry flinched, raising his hands in fear. “… Who are you?”

Seeing nothing happening to him, Barry hesitated, lowering his arms slightly so he could get a better look at the lady whose arm felt like it weighed half a tonne.

She was tall and statuesque. Those were the first thoughts that ran through Barry’s mind. He was forced to move his chin up to meet her gaze, his eyes barely able to make it over the horizon of metal that covered her chest. “Wha-?”

“Lady Embla!” The Elf spoke up quickly. “Two messengers from the Coven have appeared. This is a prisoner. They claim he is an otherworlder.”

The tall tanned woman paused, head turning in the direction they’d come through and then at Barry. “Return to your post, I’ll handle him.”

The Elf nodded and ran off. The vine that had been holding Barry’s wrist loosened and fell to the ground. The young human could only awkwardly stand there as the tall lady kept looking down at him with a slight frown.

“You…” Barry hesitated, blinking. “You don’t have a collar?” It was impossible. She had to be a maiden, what with the sharp ears and being almost three meters tall. Was there something Kajou hadn’t told him?

The woman’s frown deepened, her sharp angular features tightening as the first hint of a wrinkle came to adorn her brow. The human could only squirm under the maiden’s intense gaze, focusing on the piercing on her lower lip to try to distract himself, to look for something to focus on other than those piercing emerald green eyes that were staring into his soul.

The moment broke at the sound of a scream.

Both of them turned towards the source. There was movement near the ritual. One of the guards had dropped, and between the guard and the glowing figure, was a new presence. Two fox tails trailed behind the maiden that was rushing forward, her figure shimmering and wavering as if not entirely there, a glittering blade held in her hand.

“NO!”

Embla exploded forward, lumbering towards the ritual as she drew her a sword out of the scabbard on her hip. In a singular fluid movement worthy of an Olympic athlete, the dark-skinned maiden threw the blade forward with every ounce of strength her body could provide.

It flew like a rocket, aimed directly at the fox.

Barry’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw the fox react, react all too quickly for what was clearly an attack that should have been impossible to see coming. It had been a simple gesture, a throw, done just in time before Embla’s attack punched straight into her shoulder and dragged her away from the Warlock.

The black haired maiden’s thrown blade struck true, sinking squarely into the middle of the shadowy woman’s back.

There wasn’t a muted cry of pain, a quiet gasp surrounded by a dozen panicked faces.

The Warlock fell to her knees, face contorted into a grimace of agony.

The runes began to glow with a blinding light, lightning exploded upwards at the edges of the ritual, a column of brilliance that was hard to even look at. And an intense burning tingling that was washing against Barry’s skin like a bad sunburn.

Whatever happened next, Barry couldn’t really tell. Almost on instinct, his body hit the floor, and he closed his eyes tightly as he prepared for the worst. Every part of his body screamed in alarm at something big about to happen.

The blast didn’t make a sound, but it made the air around him shudder all the same. Barry’s eyes opened as soon as the burning light had vanished and he realized that he had to run. It was as much a command as a desire as a need. He had to run. Something was coming, something fierce and dangerous and massive, something that would eat him, tear him apart. He had to run. Barry had to RUN.

His legs were moving before his mind could properly process the thought. The human was moving away from somewhere, something, whatever was going to eat him, he had to run, run fast. Breath short and legs straining, he didn’t even care to look around, or at anything, he couldn’t stop. If he did, he’d die.

His mind couldn’t think as to why or how. Run, he had to run.

Dimly, he realized he wasn’t the only one running. There were others, moving faster, but he didn’t care, so long as he could get away from the threat, his every step an attempt to put more ground behind him.

The wall came into view. It had been torn to shreds.

Between Barry and the wall was pandemonium. Dozens of maidens fighting, and those armed were outnumbered four to one by those without weapons. Sparks of power danced around like a fireworks display. Bodies littered the ground, the blood thick in the air. The singular moment was enough to knock Barry’s thoughts back in order. The human abruptly realized he was short of breath.

He’d been running for his life. From what? It had been pure fear, pushing him to run, and run fast.

Had that been the ritual? Barry’s eyes focused on one of the larger holes in the wall. On the other side, he could see ferals scattering or fighting each other. Was this what the ritual had been meant to do? Or was it a misfire?

Standing still on a battlefield was a bad idea, and in this case, Barry learned the lesson the hard way when something knocked him over. Pain exploded from his shoulder and the world whirled out of place for a split second. The next he heard a scream; it was his own voice.

Rather than lay still and confirm what had just happened, his body rolled, urging him to stand and avoid being prone. He’d reacted just in time, too. Whatever had attacked him had pounced onto the spot he’d been occupying not a moment sooner.

His attempt to make a break for it was interrupted by the feral swiping at his feet and knocking him out of balance.

Dimly, Barry realized it was one of the felines he’d spotted on their way to the Court. Her gaze glimmered with unfocused wild eyes, as if she weren’t even seeing him but something else entirely.

And as she jumped to tackle him to the ground, something came out of Barry’s shadow and knocked the feral out of her intended trajectory.

That something had claws covered in black fur, a long canine tail, and wild unkempt hair.

And a splotch of partially flaked-off white paint on her face.