But as the horse drew near, I saw that it carried a rider. A man sat in the saddle, his tall form blotting out the light behind him. He was human, his broad chest covered by an armored breastplate embossed with a mountain inside a laurel wreath. In some dim corner of my mind, I noted that he was handsome. Dark eyes met mine as he leaned down and extended a gloved hand. “Quickly. I can’t hold them for long.” My heart pounded like a drum. “I’m with someone,” I gasped. “I can’t leave him behind.” The dark-eyed man shook his head. “If he was behind you, he’s already dead.”
