The tunnel entrance was bathed in moonlight and tension.
Marcus stood frozen. His hand gripped the rusty dagger so tight his knuckles turned white.
Elowen walked toward them.
She moved with the slow, confident stride of a predator that knew its prey had nowhere to go.
The whip dragged behind her in the dust. It looked like a living tail.
Beside Marcus, the small grey teddy bear stared at the approaching noblewoman.
The bear's button eye glinted in the dim light. He looked serious.
"We are in trouble," Marcus whispered. His voice was tight with fear.
He looked down at the bear.
"You said you can't fight," Marcus hissed. "But surely you have a plan?"
The bear nodded slowly. His fuzzy face was set in a grim expression.
He looked straight at Elowen. Then he looked at the dark forest behind them.
"There is one option," the bear said. His squeaky voice was unusually deep.
He paused for dramatic effect.
Marcus leaned closer. He waited for the strategy.
