"Luka!" Zalyne screamed, sprinting past the nobles. A guard shouted - an arrow whistled past her ear and into the pyre -

"Zalyne!" he yelled, as she shot onto the scaffolding.

There was nowhere to go. The guards were swarming towards her, cutting their way through the mass of commoners. Nobles were racing away, lords shielding their ladies from the mob.

Zalyne leapt onto the pile of wood.

She stumbled, sliding over a burning log, as she scrambled towards the cage. The guard who'd shot at her was sprinting up the pyre too, yelping as he clambered over the fire, his sword unsheathed.

"Get away!" Luka screamed, but she had already reached the bars - she stretched one arm through, gritting her teeth as her hand found Luka's –

Pain exploded through her shoulder.

Her vision blazed red. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the guard's sword, blazing white beneath the sun, crimson with blood – her blood – 

There was a loud crack, and the guard whirled around. He slipped, stumbling backwards over wood, and then he was screaming, screaming as the flames consumed him –

Luka stumbled from the cage, his mouth open in disbelief. "How – "

"Come on!" she shouted, grabbing his hands. "Jump!" The flames roared around them, scarlet teeth gnashing furiously, trying – failing – to consume them whole –

They leapt.

The ground rushed up to meet them, and Luka hit the grass first, cushioning Zalyne's fall with his body. The impact jolted her shoulder so badly that her vision flickered out. She whimpered. 

"Zalyne? Zalyne! We gotta go!"

Come on, she thought, gritting her teeth. Pain was cascading through her waves and waves of agony. Come on!

She forced herself to open her eyes, tears cutting grimy tracks over her cheeks. Luka dragged her to her feet –

She shot a look over her shoulder as they ran.

The commoners were still mobbing the pyre, shouting and screaming as the nobles fled the scene.

And as for the pyre itself...it was nothing more than a blaze of flame and smoke. The cage had completely vanished, torn to ashes by the teeth of the fire.

But Zalyne and Luka were unharmed. They had run through the flames – they had clambered down the pyre – yet they were unharmed.

"He's escaping!" came a shriek behind them. An arrow shot past them, missing by a solid foot.

They reached the stables. The stable boy turned towards them, eyes wide, but Luka barreled past him. He raced towards the first stallion he saw - a gray mare - and flung a leg over it. "Get up!" he shouted at Zalyne. "That one!"

She scrambled over to a chestnut destrier, stumbling as she flung a leg over his back. The horse reared as she mounted, almost throwing her off, and it was all she could do to clutch his mane, face buried in his neck.

Luka was out of the stables. He looked back. "Come ON!"

"Follow him!" she shouted into the horse's ear. The destrier shot forwards, perhaps trying to shake her off, and she gasped as they flew from the stables.

The golden grass of the Fields blurred beneath them as they shot down the hill. The pounding of the hooves and the howling of the wind flooded her ears. Freedom, she thought. This is what freedom sounds like –

The shouts of the mob faded behind them. The gate beneath the hill was raised, and they shot past the astonished guards as a spear soared past Luka's mount, impaling a barrel of oranges right beneath a vendor's tent. The man whipped around and hurled a curse at them before they sped past him.

"This way!" Luka shouted, as they reached the near-empty marketplace. The grass beneath them shifted seamlessly into cobblestone. His mount galloped through the court and into an alleyway, hooves pounding deafeningly as they splashed through puddles of filthy water.

Zalyne urged her destrier after him, holding on for dear life. Her shoulder was screaming in pain – she could feel her blood, wet and warm against her side –

The alleyways were so narrow that her destrier could barely fit. Clotheslines lined the cerulean sky, casting a web of shadows over the uneven roads.

Gradually, the path widened. They emerged into the light, and Zalyne let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding –

The gates of Scorheld – built of red clay and black metal, topped with a golden lion's head – rose before them.

"Halt!" yelled one of the guards, but Luka and Zalyne barreled past him, Zalyne's face still pressed into her horse's neck.

They thundered down the drawbridge, leaping clear of the moat as the guards shouted and cursed at them.

Outside the city, the road was nothing more than a stretch of dust in a field of yellow grass. Traders and peasants turned and gaped at them as they raced past.

Scorheld disappeared behind them, and still they raced on.

"You're bleeding!" Luka yelled. "We'll go up the Veyna River and into Slagvald and then we'll find a medic."

"I'm fine," she tried to say, but the wind swept away her words, blew them back into the honey-colored fields and the bone-dry air. She felt lightheaded, dazed, almost giddy. How was it possible that the world could be so, so large? 

I'm free. I'm free, I'm free, I'm free.

"Why did you do it?" Luka shouted. "You could've gotten out without me!"

She found his eyes. They seemed to shine with admiration, with awe. Under the sunlight, he was almost handsome.

A smile tugged at her lips. "We don't have nearly enough revolutionaries," she said, grinning. "It would've been a pity to lose one."

He beamed at her, his eyes aglow with admiration. "Well," he said, "I'll have to eat my words now. I never thought escape could be an art."

~~

So, as usual, what do you think will happen next? Hint: it's yet another protagonist - I did warn you about my huge cast at the beginning. ;)

Thanks so much for reading, and please vote and comment!