Raven started climbing again, trying not to worry about the noise he was making. No matter how careful he was they always found him, so it made no difference. He saw the number fifteen painted on the wall when he got up to the next floor and decided to try his luck. They were closing in too quickly; he couldn’t just keep climbing stairs. He needed to move on a flat surface for awhile. He went into the hallway, opened one door, and at the end of the hallway went into a room, doing his best to flatten himself against the wall and remain as quiet as he possibly could. It was pitch black, so he had no idea where he was. It wasn’t long before he heard footsteps.

  “He’s hiding on this floor,” said the voice Raven guessed belonged to the leader.

  “We’ll find him,” answered Vyns. “He couldn’t have gone far.”

  Raven could hear the beating of his own heart so clearly that it surprised him Vyns hadn’t heard it yet. He couldn’t stay here. Vyns was right; they’d find him sooner or later. The only thing he could think of was to wait until the footsteps were a little farther away and then take off running. In this state of panic, he could not come up with a more elaborate plan. With a little luck they’d start combing the hallway from the opposite end from where he was hiding. That would give him an opportunity to slip back over to the stairs and launch into another attempt at an escape to see if this time he could make it to a public place. If that didn’t happen, he had no idea what he could do to get away.

  His thoughts were interrupted when the wall he was leaning on shook and rumbled loudly. Two hands burst through it and, tossing aside hunks of brick from either side of his head, grabbed him by the neck, holding him against the wall. He heard two more thuds and felt two more hands grab his waist. The section of the wall he’d been leaning on came down and Raven found himself in the hands of two strangers whose presence he’d been unable to detect. He could still sense the presence of the three who’d been chasing him, and they were now headed toward him at full speed.

  Driven mostly by fear and desperation, Raven struggled uselessly in the strong arms of his captors, realizing his strength would get him nowhere. It was then that he knew what his only hope might be. He lifted his hand, and when it began to glow, he grabbed one of the arms holding his neck. An instant later the light disappeared and Raven felt something cold and heavy around his wrist. They had put some kind of shackles on him and, with one sharp yank, secured both hands behind his back. He still hadn’t been able to see his captors; they were holding him so tightly he could only look forward. He was certain that all was lost.

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  “You are finally ours,” roared Vyns as he entered the room. “This time you won’t escape.”

  In a flash he came up to Raven and thrust his fist into his stomach. Raven groaned and doubled over as much as the chains would allow. The next blow was much harder and hit him full in the face. The impact snapped his head back into what he guessed was one of the men who was holding him.

  “This one’s from Edmon, you pig,” hissed Vyns.

  Raven felt a blow hit his ribs and heard them cracking. He barely felt the next two blows as he was already suffering unbearable pain, and all he could see were Vyns’s hate-filled eyes boring into his own. He knew he’d be unconscious soon, and the fleeting thought that they must have decided they didn’t want him alive after all raced through his mind.

  “Are you insane, Vyns?” screamed the leader as he entered the room and rushed over to them. Much to Raven’s surprise, he kicked Vyns in the side, launching him into a wall. “We have him. I told you they want him alive. You’ve almost killed him.”

  “You know what he did to Edmon, Diago,” argued Vyns, pulling himself up off the floor. “We shouldn’t take any chances with him.”

  “That’s for me to decide,” bellowed Diago.

  At that moment, the third pursuer arrived. Raven was having great difficulty keeping his eyes on them when he suddenly heard something behind him and the pressure that was holding his shoulders to the wall disappeared. Before he knew what was happening, he heard something crash to the floor and saw a body lying there with a slit across his neck and blood gushing out of the wound. Someone grabbed him again from behind and spun him around, then let him go again. He heard more fighting behind him. Raven had no idea what was happening. His body was in agony and he could not concentrate.

  In the midst of the confusion he saw the window that had been across from him rushing toward him. He felt hands on his shoulders and realized a moment too late that someone was pushing him. Unable to do anything about it, he crashed through the glass, his body slashed and cut all over. The cold night air enveloped him as he plunged toward the street below. The ground was coming toward him at an incredible rate of speed. Only a few seconds more and it would all be over.

  A pair of hands grabbed him and slowed his fall, though they didn’t stop it completely. The ground was getting closer. Out of the corner of his eye he saw an enormous wing flapping in the wind.

  The impact knocked the wind out of him. He rolled on the ground, his body tangled with another. When they finally stopped, Raven was completely drained. He lay there in the snow, not caring in the least about his fate. Someone picked him up off the ground and ran away, carrying him. His body bounced up and down in the arms of whoever had picked him up. Before losing consciousness, the only thing Raven saw was the face of a woman.

  A beautiful woman.