I stopped to get my bearings. The forest was silent. After another moment, I shook myself, bent down, and removed my other shoe. Easier to run in none than one. I tucked the shoe under a bush—no sense giving my trackers any clues. Then I straightened and cast a light-ball. Nothing happened. Was I that low? Dumb question, really. I knew I was that low on spell-power. I could feel it, a barely-there pulse in my head where normally there was a steady stream of energy.

I closed my eyes, leaned against a tree, and waited. After a few minutes, I cast again. The light-ball appeared for a couple of seconds, then fizzled out with a faint pop. I swallowed a growl of frustration and rolled my shoulders, trying to relax. No sense running in complete darkness. Wait for the spell.

A twig cracked behind me. As I pushed forward from the tree, a sharp point dug into my shoulder, in the same spot knife-man had stabbed me, and I bit back a yelp.

“Thank you so much for that flare,” Dachev whispered in my torn ear. “Most kind of you to let me know where you were.”

I back-kicked and caught him in the shins. The torch flew from his hand. As he went down, he slashed the knife. The stone blade sliced through the back of my thigh and I stumbled. He leapt at me. I twisted out of the way, but he stabbed again, this time cutting through my other calf. I roundhoused with my right leg. Pain shot through the split thigh muscle, but I kicked with everything I had and caught him in the gut. He flew back into the tree. As he hit, the knife fell from his hand. I wanted that knife. God, how I wanted it. But I knew if I lunged for it, he’d jump me. So I did the next best thing and kicked it as it fell, sending it sailing into the darkness.

Dachev pitched forward and hit me in the side. As I wheeled around, catching my balance, a sound from deep in the forest stopped me cold. Running footsteps. Multiple sets of running footsteps. The others could hear us and they were coming.

In a spell-free fight, I could probably have bested Dachev. Wounded and in a spell-free fight, that “probably” had already dropped to a “hopefully.” My chances of taking on Dachev plus all the others, while in this condition, were nil. Absolutely nil and I wasn’t fool enough to pretend otherwise.

So I ran.

I cast my light-ball. This time it held, as dim as an almost-dead flashlight, but steady enough that I could see by. And, yes, as Dachev tore after me, I knew the light-ball was giving him a beacon to follow, but I couldn’t worry about that. Stumble around in the dark forest and I’d be dead the moment the others arrived with their torches.