Free The Second Coming by David H. Burton

walked towards the captive, who appeared to be praying.
    Paine couldn’t
help but stare. Even up close, he found it difficult to distinguish
gender. The captive had a hard-angled jaw that indicated male, but
there was a softness in the facial features that said female.
    The deep voice
betrayed his gender. “Thank … you,” he muttered. His voice was like
thick syrup. “God … help me.”
    Diarmuid
offered a hand to help him up. “I’m Diarmuid. This is Paine, and
Lya.”
    “ P-P-Puck,” he responded and held out his hands with the
silver cuffs.
    Diarmuid
unclasped the cuffs. “Where are the horses? We have to get out of
here before she returns.”
    The young man
pointed behind him, to where the Hunter vanished into the
ruins.
    “ You three go and wait. Fang, you stay with them,” Diarmuid
said. He then bolted around the corner.
    Paine was
still aghast at what Lya had summoned. She smirked, and they both
said nothing.
    Careless.
    It was Puck
who broke the silence. “You … p-p-pretty,” he said to Lya. He
seemed to think before each word. His eyes hungered for her, a look
he had no sense to hide.
    He’s
simple.
    Lya looked at
him sidelong and smiled. It wasn’t shy.
    “ Are you all right?” Paine asked.
    Puck nodded.
“Yes.”
    Lya remained
silent and walked away. The other two followed, just as quiet as
they gave a wide berth around a pool of crimson that coagulated.
Lya retrieved her dagger, sheathing it without wiping it clean.
Paine let the other two walk ahead, watching the doorway into which
the others had been pulled. He studied where the young woman had
lain and noticed a small kerchief. It was embroidered with the
emblem of the crescent moon and a goat. It fluttered away with the
faint breeze. Paine let it go and continued after the others.
    As they
reached the horses, Diarmuid rode around the corner on a
honey-colored gelding.
    “ Quickly. She may be looking for help. Puck, we can take you
home or you can come with us. We're going to Haven.”
    The young
man’s slow voice seethed. “I … have … no home.”
    “ Neither do we,” Paine said. “Our parents were killed by Witch
Hunters.” He chose not to mention the same Hunter was responsible
for Puck’s capture. There was a saying his father had often used
about salt in the wound.
    No need for that here .
    But he
wondered how she had caught up to them.
    Diarmuid
dismounted and handed the reins to Puck who climbed atop the horse
with a strained, clumsy effort. Diarmuid and Paine mounted their
horses as Lya waited for Talon to alight on her outstretched arm.
She swung aboard Sable and they all sped north.

    Charging
through the ruins they fled, and within little time they reached
the outskirts of the ancient city. There was no sign of the Hunter
chasing them, but they rode for almost an hour, their mounts
snorting heavily. The sweat of Shadow's flanks seeped into Paine's
trousers.
    Eventually,
Diarmuid brought his horse about and faced them.
    “ How are you all holding up?”
    “ Fine,” they resounded. Puck gave an exaggerated
nod.
    “ We need to get off the main road. It will take us longer, but
we'll be less obvious.” Diarmuid paused, looking back to the valley
of ruins, deceptive in its tranquility. His eyebrows furrowed. “The
Hunters don't usually come into this area, and certainly not the
ruins. Perhaps the influence of the Confederation has spread faster
than I thought. From now on, no one casts a spell or summons. If
there are Hunters swarming this area, we don’t need the extra
attention. And there isn't anywhere to turn between here and Haven,
unless we go through the Westwood.”
    A tingling
sensation danced along the nape of Paine's neck at the mention of
the forbidden forest. He thought of the Confederation army that had
ventured into the Westwood to cleanse it of evil. They were never
seen or heard from again. What sort of devilry lived there, he did
not know, and did not care to know. He took one last glance back