Nouresh feinted with the sword, drove the Dana up against the wall, and then thrust a dagger into her chest. It barely seemed to faze the Dana, who screeched in Nouresh’s face and swiped at her with her claws. Nouresh danced back, graceful as a cat.

“Run!” she shouted at Jules and Ava. She took another swing at the Dana with her dagger, catching her in the hand and taking off several of her fingers. The Dana shrieked and cradled her hand, which bled a dark, viscous ooze from the stumps. There were a dozen answering screeches from further down the hallway.

Ava’s brain, which had done such a great job of observing, remembered that it was supposed to be running like hell and also scared shitless. There was a door ahead of them, and Ava’s focus narrowed to it, to the small oblong opening and the thick door that stood ajar in front of it.

She started to shut the doorway behind her, only to realize that she was alone. Ava yanked the door back—no easy feat, the thing weighed significantly more than she did—and looked back down the hallway. Jules was a few dozen steps behind her, carrying Nouresh in their arms.

Nouresh, who was covered in blood, and looked half-conscious.

“Help us!” Jules yelled, but again, Ava’s feet were already carrying her toward them. She and Jules muscled Nouresh through the narrow hatchway, tripping over the tall lip, and slammed the door shut on the echoing shrieks of the Marks and Danas. There was a wheel in the center that Jules quickly spun, just as a series of thuds hit the door.

“Lock it!” Ava cried, taking Nouresh’s weight and laying her on the floor.

“How?” Jules was straining with the wheel, muscles in their forearms standing out like cords. Ava could tell it was all Jules could do to hold the door against them, there was no chance of twisting it shut and locked. An unholy wailing rose up, and the sounds of scratching, muffled by the thick walls.

Nouresh moaned, a pained, pitiful sound. “What happened to her?” Ava demanded.

“She put one down, but another snuck up behind her,” Jules said through clenched teeth. “Started tearing into her before I knocked it away. She lopped off its head but fainted after that.”

Ava, hands shaking, knocked the sword out of Nouresh’s slack grip and grasped her wrist, trying to find a pulse. It was there, but sluggish. Ava nudged open her coat: there were wide, gaping tears across the front of Nouresh’s shirt, and the fabric was sodden with blood, as red as the captain’s coat.