The Sparrow’s Fall

Blink.

The world snapped into focus five meters ahead, the air around me barely disturbed as I reappeared mid-stride. My feet barely touched the marble before I pushed off again, muscles humming with borrowed power.

Blink.

Another silent lurch forward.

The kidnappers were just ahead, their shadows stretching long under the dim emergency sconces lining the service corridor. They moved fast but not recklessly—professionals, then. The leader adjusted his grip on the bundled shroud containing Princess Sara, her small frame limp beneath the fabric.

I slowed, matching their pace just enough to stay hidden. Too soon, and they'd notice. Too late, and they'd vanish.

Then—

A prickle at the back of my neck.

I glanced over my shoulder.