They slammed into the dirt road, the impact squeezing the breath out of them. Thorin coughed and hacked after they rolled for their momentum’s worth. He climbed up on his feet, bracing himself, then helped his brothers before the carter. The man chasing after them had slowed down as well. He panted on his knees when he was close enough. Without the bull cart, they were easy prey now. He grinned for his victory. But none of the four wished to yield their lives, not yet.

  Thorin unbolted the latch on the broken cart and freed the bulls, while the carter and the two helped the beasts up. Before the man could gather his breath to smother them, they mounted the bulls and bolted away. The man cursed out loud and began the chase again.

  The carter drove one bull with Thorin on his back, and Clay drove another with Quin shooting arrows. He still didn’t hit but his arrows flew closer to the tired man now. Without the cart burdening the bulls, they ran faster and faster and widened the distance. Though they were at their breath’s end.

  “The bulls won't hold on for too long,” Clay said.

  “Should we split?” Quin asked.

  “No,” Thorin said. “If he’s not alone, we’ll all die.”

  “But if the bulls stop, we’ll die anyway,” Clay said.

  “They can still run,” the carter said, patting his bull. “My boys can still run.”

  “Let me give them some boost then,” Thorin murmured and sliced his palm with his chained blade. The edge dug deep into his flesh and sliced it apart. The sting from the first bite soon surged into a wave of sharp pain. His blood streamed down, and the wind broke the drops into a shower behind him. “Come,” he muttered. “Get my blood.” Before long, as the forest flinched from the deathly wails, a swarm of Ghosts rushed for his blood.

  His heart struggled to beat with the wounds, but Thorin held on and squeezed some more red. The flood of screeching Ghosts behind him hindered the man, but they were far too weak for his caliber. He sent one ray of light at them, and they scuttled away. Nonetheless, they paid Thorin for the blood he shed. Their existence spooked the bulls, and the beasts raced for their lives now.

  “Run, my boys!” the carter hollered and whipped the rein. Their run left a cloud of dust behind for the man, and soon, he faded away into the distant shadows. Only his lingering roar reached them after several seconds.

  “We made it,” Clay said.

  Quin heaved a sigh of relief. “I was almost running out of arrows to shoot.”

  “Thorin.” Clay looked at him with a frown.

  “I’m fine,” Thorin said, but the strong wind ate his weak voice. He pressed the wound to stop the bleeding and braced himself. His thighs were trembling. He couldn’t ride the bull for long in his current condition.

  “At the next turn, we change our direction,” Clay said. “We’re not going to Dewsbury anymore.”

  “So, to Dalhurst?” Quin asked.

  “Yeah, this didn’t happen by chance,” Clay said. “He was a full-fledged Magus. He has no reason to rob people like us. This was for some other reason. There’s a good chance someone sold us out too. Better if we change our route.”

  “Hmm, no matter how you look at us, we look piss poor,” Thorin said. “We even hired a bull cart.”

  “Oi, I take pride in being the cheapest,” the carter grumbled.

  “But we never told anyone our destination,” Quin said.

  “Yeah, we did,” Thorin said, his eyelids becoming heavier. “We were taking the shortest route to that battlefield then to the street market. The one who gave that information to Clay, he knew the path we would take.”

  “He’s the one who told us to go up the mountain to become a Magus,” Clay said, grinding his teeth. “That bitch sold us out.”

  “Well, look on the brighter side,” Quin said. “We escaped a Magus.”

  “Not yet,” Thorin said. “Once he can't find us in Dewsbury, he’ll head for Dalhurst.”

  “We won't be there when he gets there,” Clay said.

  “Yeah,” Thorin said. “Though there might be a problem with the market’s information he gave us. Let’s be careful.”

  “Are you guys heading to that market?” the carter asked. “Neither of the towns is the shortest route for that. It’s in the opposite direction, in fact.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Do you know where it is?” Clay asked, his eyes sparkling.

  The carter nodded. “I’ve sent some people there before. The locals know the place as well. They often act as guides for the new Magi. Are you three Magi too?”

  “We’re trying to be,” Thorin said.

  “So, everyone there knows about it? I thought it would be more secretive,” Quin said.

  “It’s a market,” the carter said. “They need more people coming in. Why hide it?”

  “How far is it?” Clay asked. “Can you take us there?”

  “It’s about a few days of ride away,” the carter said. “But it’s in the opposite direction of those towns.”

  “Its fine,” Thorin said. “Let’s head there. We can go to the battlefield after that.”

  “Are we safe now?” the carter asked. “My boys need some rest.” Their trots had some wobbles in them. The bulls had indeed crossed their limits.

  “After we change direction at the next intersection, we should lose him for good,” Clay said. “We can rest then. Just hold on for a while.”

  …..

  They avoided Dewsbury at the intersection and left some traces of their footsteps going towards Dalhurst. It wasn’t a perfect deception, but the apparent change in destination should be enough to throw the tracker off, they reckoned. After they covered enough distance, they turned back and took a small trail that went deep into the forest this time. The grass that caressed their calves hid their trails. Clay even took care of the blades that the bulls trampled. While Thorin slept again on Quin’s back.

  His slumber rested his weary heart and soothed his pain. But the hours it took to recover were longer than before, and heavier. He woke up when the afternoon sun lingered over their heads.

  The bulls sprawled by the pond as the carter scrubbed their backs. He praised them with each stroke of his brush on their skin, and they mooed along. Clay sat by Thorin’s side, tending to his wound, while Quin had climbed a tree, munching on some berries.

  “How long was it this time?” Thorin asked.

  “Almost fifteen hours,” Clay said. “We’ll stay here for a bit longer. Sleep some more if you want to. The beasts are acting as usual now, we should be safe.”

  “That was a close call,” Thorin said.

  “It was,” Clay said. “It won't be again. I’ll make sure of that.”

  Thorin chuckled. “Making another promise you can't keep,” he said.

  “I’ll keep this one,” Clay said with a grave countenance.

  “It’s fine. It wasn’t your fault,” Thorin said. “When we’re able to, we’ll go back and have a nice talk with the one who sold us out. I’ll make sure he understands the price of betrayal.”

  “What spice will you use this time?” Clay laughed and asked.

  “I’d like to use that white powder they used on us back then if I had it,” Thorin said and shrugged. “Alas, I can only make do with spices for now.”

  “They only used that on you,” Clay said. “Because you wouldn’t scream.”

  “I just thought they would give up sooner if I didn’t scream,” Thorin said. “Who knew it would fire them up even more. After that, it became a matter of who'd break first. I wasn’t going to lose to those motherfuckers.”

  Clay chuckled. “That bitch Quin learned from your mistakes and screamed his lungs off,” he said. “He was the only one among us who used to come back on his feet grinning.”

  “Slimy fucker,” Thorin said and laughed. “Why can't he use such genius in other areas? Look at what he’s eating.”

  “It’s clear.” Quin jumped off the tree, throwing a berry in his mouth, and walked over. “No one’s coming after us.” He looked down at Thorin with a playful smile and nudged his ribs with his boots. “Sleeping beauty, have you had your fill of nap?”

  “I could use another hour or two,” Thorin said. The Ghosts hid from the glaring afternoon, but they still remained in his perception. Their presence along with the insects’ chirps proved the safety of this clearing. It eased his tense nerves. But nonetheless, they had to move, and soon. “Those wild berries are redfire berries, by the way. They’ll give you the runs.”

  Quin froze, then spat them out, even retching to puke what he ate.

  “I was joking,” Thorin said, getting up, then flashed an evil smirk. “Or was I?”

  “Which is it?” Quin grunted.

  “You’ll know soon. I just wouldn’t trust my farts right now if I were you.”

  “My bulls are ready, sir,” the carter said. “We can move anytime you want.”

  “Thorin,” Clay said. “Since we are heading to the market now, do you want to hunt some Ghosts on the way?”

  “Yeah,” Thorin said and rotated his injured shoulder. The burn of the wound had turned into a dull ache, while the punctured flesh stung when he moved. For the weaker Ghosts though, his current state was enough. “There are some hiding from the sun around here. Let’s hunt here and then we’ll be on our way.”

  His chained blade had already drunk his blood last night. But he still freshened the red on it with the wound on his palm and headed for the deeper woods. Clay and Quin followed him, while the carter stayed put with his bulls.

  The swing of his chained blades cut the air and whistled around him. They earned momentum with each spin, and the grass swayed along their steps. Clay and Quin had also taken their weapons out, but it was more for the comfort of their hearts. After all, without Thorin’s blood, their blades couldn’t touch the Ghosts. They inched ahead for minutes, and the forest’s depth soon embraced them. When the woods had blurred the figure of the carter, Thorin chose his prey.

  A Ghost floated quietly in the shadow of a dense green crown, its long but tattered cloak lingering behind. Even their footfalls couldn’t elicit a response from it. The glare of the afternoon sun was too much for these weak Ghosts. And thus, Thorin rode the advantage and hurled his blade at it. The edge that carried his blood plunged into the Ghost’s chest, and now it wailed. Thorin sent another one into its head, and then another one for the third anchor.

  The three chains became the bridge between him and the Ghost, and he yanked it closer. His heart thumped in excitement. It hungered for the Ghost. Before long, the Ghost hushed down and smoldered into embers. It turned into threads of dark mist that rushed into Thorin while leaving a handful of ashes behind. His heart devoured the threads of mist and pounded a strong beat. It roared to prove it was alive. It hadn’t had its fill, far from it, but the meal relieved his weakness. Thorin could live a little longer now. Not to mention the agony he dreaded never came either. He was safe.

  “Death washes away the hatred.” He prayed. “It concludes all conflicts. I will carry your end with me and live beyond time. So, I hope you rest in peace.”