CHAPTER 128: ZEDRAK'S HUNT

CHAPTER 128: ZEDRAK'S HUNT

The first horn shattered the silence.

It echoed through the stone beneath Kristine's feet, deep and mournful, rolling across the palace like thunder trapped underground.

Then came another.

And another.

By the fourth blast, every person in the tunnel understood what it meant.

They had been discovered.

Kamal didn't stop working.

His swollen fingers moved through the ancient mechanism with astonishing precision, feeling each hidden catch instead of seeing it. Sweat rolled down his temples despite the cold air beneath the palace.

"Hold the torch higher," he murmured.

Eli raised the flame.

The gears towered above them, enormous wheels of iron connected by chains thick as a man's arm. Rust flaked from the teeth as Kamal forced another locking pin loose.

A heavy clank echoed through the chamber.

One more lock released.

"How many?" Tyron asked quietly.

Kamal never looked up.

"Three."

Above them, the palace erupted.

The muffled roar of running feet filtered through the stone ceiling.

Doors slammed.

Voices shouted overlapping commands.

Somewhere, steel crashed against steel.

The hunt had begun.

Kristine closed her eyes for the briefest moment.

Zedrak knew.

Not everything.

But enough.

Enough to turn the palace into a cage.

Far above, chaos swallowed the royal residence.

Servants scattered into corners as soldiers stormed through corridors carrying blazing torches.

"Harem!"

"Search every room!"

"No one leaves alive!"

The commands bounced off marble walls.

Bedroom doors were kicked open one after another.

Curtains ripped aside.

Storage rooms searched.

Even the smallest servants' quarters were torn apart.

Captain Varos knelt beside the empty bed inside Kristine's chamber.

The blanket was cold.

The window remained barred.

No broken locks.

No sign of escape.

Only absence.

He looked up at the trembling harem attendants lined against the wall.

"Where is she?"

No one answered.

One girl began crying.

Varos struck the nearest table so hard it splintered.

"I asked..."

His voice dropped into something far more dangerous.

"...where is she?"

King Zedrak stood motionless inside the throne hall.

Someone had dared to touch what belonged to him.

That thought angered him more than the escape itself.

The captain knelt before the throne.

"My King..."

"The woman is gone."

Silence.

Then...

"Impossible."

"We searched every chamber."

"Then search again."

"We already—"

"I said..."

Zedrak rose slowly from his throne.

"...search again."

The captain lowered his head.

"My King..."

"The healer is missing."

A flicker crossed Zedrak's face.

Then another report arrived.

"The boy."

"Gone."

"The foreign warrior."

"Gone."

Everything became still.

His breathing remained calm.

Too calm.

Finally, he smiled.

It was the smile of a man who had decided mercy was no longer useful.

"Seal the outer gates."

"Raise every bridge."

"Flood every corridor with soldiers."

He looked toward the western wall.

"They cannot leave."

Then his voice became almost conversational.

"And when you find them..."

He paused.

"Do not kill the woman."

The captain hesitated.

"The others?"

"Kill them."

His smile widened.

"I'll deal with Kristine myself."

Underground...

The final lock clicked.

Kamal exhaled.

"It should work."

He wrapped both hands around the massive iron release lever.

Tyron stepped beside him.

"I'll help."

Together they pulled.

Nothing happened.

Again.

The ancient mechanism groaned.

Dust rained from the ceiling.

The enormous gears began turning one reluctant tooth at a time.

Then—

A thunderous boom shook the chamber.

The outer gate moved.

Fresh night air rushed through the widening opening.

Kristine inhaled sharply.

Freedom.

She could smell rain.

Trees.

River water.

Everything the palace had stolen from her.

The drawbridge creaked downward across the moat, chains rattling as decades of rust surrendered to motion.

Outside...

A dark forest stretched beneath the moon.

For one breathtaking second...

Escape was real.

"Go!"

Kamal shouted.

Eli didn't hesitate.

The child sleeping against his shoulder stirred but never woke.

Holding the baby close, Eli sprinted across the bridge with every ounce of strength his young legs possessed.

His small figure disappeared into the darkness beyond the walls.

Safe.

Tyron turned toward Kristine.

"You next."

She shook her head.

"Kamal first."

"I'll cover."

The healer backed toward the bridge, never taking his eyes off the tunnel behind them.

The first soldiers appeared.

"There!"

"They're escaping!"

Crossbows lifted.

Tyron moved instantly.

His sword flashed.

The first bolt shattered against the stone.

The second buried itself harmlessly in the wall.

Kamal crossed the bridge.

Halfway.

Three quarters.

Then...

Another sound echoed through the machinery.

A sharp metallic crack.

Kamal stopped.

His expression changed.

"No..."

The chains above them jerked violently.

The bridge shuddered beneath his feet.

Someone else had reached the control mechanism inside the palace.

Someone was reversing it.

"They found the counterweight!" Kamal shouted.

The bridge lurched upward.

Fast.

Too fast.

"Kamal!"

Kristine ran.

Tyron grabbed her arm.

"No!"

Kamal threw himself forward.

His hands caught solid ground just as the bridge lifted beyond reach.

He rolled safely onto the far side.

The gap widened instantly.

Three feet.

Six.

Ten.

The bridge climbed higher until it slammed against the palace wall with a deafening crash.

The gate followed.

Stone ground against stone.

The opening narrowed.

Moonlight disappeared.

Then...

Silence.

The gate sealed shut.

Kristine stood frozen.

On the opposite side of the wall, she could hear Eli shouting.

His voice was muffled now.

"Kris!"

"Kamal!"

The words became indistinct.

Then only echoes.

Kamal slammed both palms against the stone.

"No!"

He searched frantically for another release.

There wasn't one.

The mechanism had locked from inside.

He understood immediately.

There would be no reopening it.

Not tonight.

Kristine rested one hand against the cold gate.

For one impossible moment...

She wanted to cry.

Not because she was trapped.

Because they had come so close.

So unbearably close.

She imagined Eli standing in the forest with the baby in his arms, waiting for people who would never emerge.

The thought broke something inside her.

Then Tyron's hand settled gently on her shoulder.

Not to comfort.

To steady.

She turned.

His face was calm.

Almost frighteningly calm.

"They're coming."

She listened.

Boots.

Hundreds of them.

From every corridor.

Every staircase.

Every tunnel.

The palace was closing around them like the jaws of a beast.

Kristine looked once more at the sealed gate.

Then toward the darkness where the soldiers advanced.

There was no path left.

Only choice.

Tyron slowly drew his sword.

The familiar sound of steel leaving its scabbard filled the chamber.

Kristine loosened Sira's knife from her belt.

The blade caught the torchlight.

A gift.

A promise.

She met Tyron's eyes.

He smiled.

The smallest smile.

"We had a good plan."

She almost laughed.

"We still do."

"Oh?"

She nodded toward the approaching army.

"We make sure they don't reach Kamal."

Understanding passed between them without another word.

Whatever happened next...

The others would have time.

Time to disappear into the forest.

Time to survive.

Time to finish what they had started.

The horns sounded again.

Closer now.

The first soldiers rounded the corner.

Tyron shifted into a fighter's stance.

Kristine stood beside him.

Shoulder to shoulder.

Not prisoners.

Not prey.

Behind them lay freedom they could no longer reach.

Before them waited an army.

Together, they turned to face the palace.

And the hunt truly began.