The witches stopped, scanning the street. One of them raised her hand. The crystal at her throat pulsed brighter. She was channeling, using origin energy to enhance her senses. Looking for traces of their prey.
"Walk," Sofia said quietly.
"Don't run. Not yet."
They walked past the vendors, past the old woman. Around a corner and onto a street lined with shuttered shops. Dane's heart hammered in his chest.
He wanted to run.
Every fiber of his being screamed at him to run.
Sofia grabbed his arm, steadying him.
"Not yet," she repeated.
Behind them, one of the witches shouted. The words were indistinct, but the tone was clear. They'd been spotted.
"Now," Sofia said.
They ran.
The old quarter blurred around them. Dane pushed his aging body as hard as it would go, ignoring the pain in his knees and the burning in his lungs.
