A shape burst from a side corridor.
Garrett Darkhowler.
Young. Fifteen, maybe sixteen. Built like a man already but wearing the face of a boy who was processing too many things at the speed of war. He was carrying a sword that was too big for his frame and running at a speed that said training had already made him dangerous even if experience hadn't finished the job.
Elara was behind him. Smaller. Thirteen maybe. Moving with the coordinated precision of a girl who had been trained alongside Serena since childhood and whose training was currently the only thing standing between her body and the panic trying to override it.
Garrett hit the tunnel entrance. The gold barrier Seraphine had placed was still holding, hardened amber blocking the corridor.
"Serena!"
He hit it with his shoulder. It cracked. He hit it again. It shattered.
