by Halie Fewkes
A sharp splinter jabbed into my lower back, and I felt a new flood of panic beneath the suffocating mass of leaves. I wanted to thrash until I could pull myself from beneath it, but I couldn’t bear injuring Vack any further.
“You’d better be alive, you little brat,” I half growled and half cried as I tried to get a look at Vack’s face in the dim green light. “Do you feel that?” I shook him slightly as strength filled my limbs again but did nothing to dull the pain of being crushed. “There’s magic again. You can heal yourself and get out of here. Come on.”
Small hands reached in to grab Vack beneath the shoulders, and Ebby cried, “Don’t you dare die!” She must have performed a competitive dive to reach us through the leaves.
She also apparently had the strength of a bear to wrench Vack out into the daylight, giving me just enough wiggle room to twist and pull myself out after them. Ebby escaped the sea of leaves with Vack in her arms just as Ratuan circled back around the tree and spotted her.
“Get out of here!” I shouted.
Ebby had tears streaming down her face and said, “What about you?”
“You don’t owe me anything. JUMP!”
“What are you doing?” Ratuan screamed as he darted toward her and the limp form of Vack hanging in her arms. “Wait, Ebby! Wait!”
Ebby shifted Vack’s weight to get a better hold on him, and in the second before Ratuan reached her, she leapt into the air and vanished.
Ratuan froze and whispered, “Don’t leave me.”
He stared at the space where empty air had replaced Ebby, and he turned slowly to me as I wrenched my last foot out of the snarl of branches. His eyes brimmed with tears of devastation.
I dashed back, even though he hadn’t taken a single step toward me, and I gasped sharply as the gash along my lower back cried in agony. I reached both hands back, feeling the warm and slightly sticky indicator of blood, and I caught Liz’s eye right before I fled. She looked more furious than sad, and my already broken heart shattered. I might never see her again.
Prince Avalask threw Kit to the ground, and Sir Avery grabbed Prince Avalask with a snarl to keep him from jumping. Archie widened his eyes to beg me to go, and I took a quick breath before turning my back on them all, dashing into the field of tall cotton-corn stalks.
“She is RIGHT THERE!” Sir Avery shouted as I heard the fierce growls of Prince Avalask fighting back. “I don’t want excuses. Burn the field down if you have to! Get the other Zhauri and their dogs! Bring her back before she finds a way to hide!”
I was already running full speed when Prince Avalask hurled his thoughts to me. Keep running! You’re better off dead than with the Zhauri.
I could hear the unmistakable instruction to kill myself if I had to.
Without a hope of rescuing him, I ducked my head and shoved the massive stalks out of my way, knowing I’d have both men and dogs on my trail in seconds, if not an Epic. A broil of fear, guilt, and despair threatened to overwhelm me and drag me to the ground in a fit of sobs, but I had to distance myself from those things — be Archie, not me. And I found it surprisingly easy, maybe since my life depended on it.
I pulled myself into a deep sense of calm where my breaths were quick, but also deep and controlled, and I focused on nothing but the ocean of distance I wanted between us. There was nothing else to fret over. Just run and breathe. Run, breathe, and think.
I knew exactly which mages the Dragona had. Terry could jump and move people quickly, but Sir Avery was the only one who could track with magic, and he was busy. I couldn’t hunker down and hide in the field because the Zhauri’s dogs would lead them straight to me.
So I turned sharply toward the trees, noticing thick grey smoke rising in several places around the field. They were trying to flush me out, which meant they must have already established lookouts to see where I’d emerge. What hope did I have to get out unseen?
I parted the tall stalks in front of me, coming to a lengthy field edge where the farmer had stopped planting seeds. I dropped flat to my stomach and pulled myself toward the safety of the forest, looking both ways to see if I had been noticed. There was, in fact, a man stationed to keep watch over this stretch, but he looked the other way, and enough distance lay between us that when he turned back, he didn’t notice me lying between the ferns and fallen branches.
I waited until he turned his head again and then dragged myself forward a few cubits more. He faced me again and I froze, weirdly amused by how easy a game this was to learn, and how quickly it would be over.
As soon as he turned away again, I bolted into the trees unseen.
Ok. Calm, calm, calm. Distance, distance, nothing mattered more than distance. Think.
I could handle dogs — I had an entire forest in front of me to lose them. The worst part was that I didn’t know how long my head start would be. So I made a mad, weaving dash through the trees for two solid minutes, then found a gnarled old oak with limbs I could easily climb, and ran in a straight line east for two minutes more. I turned around and perfectly retraced my steps until I reached the knotted oak again, my heart stopping as I heard approaching voices.
I leapt, hooked my arms around the rough bark and scrambled to pull the rest of myself up, obtaining several scratches along my arms and below my knees as the injury near my spine cried out. I reached up to the next limb and paid no attention to the leafy twigs digging into my hands and clinging to my hair. I did, however, still myself as the voices came closer.
I held my breath, hoping they wouldn’t look up. People so rarely did.
“I’d never met her, had you?” a man’s faint voice reached me through the trees, though he was nearly drowned out by a small bird who suddenly decided to burst into the solo of her life.
“No, but I’ve seen her around. The Dragona shanking loved her. I just can’t imagine what she was thinking.”
I missed the next part of what was said over the chirping bird, and I made several gestures for her to muzzle it.
The next piece I heard was, “That little sister of hers is getting something with her scent so the Zhauri and their dogs—” but the soloist flitted to a branch right next to me and I swatted at her as she continued chittering.
The searchers never actually came into my view, but I felt a new rush of energy in my limbs as their voices faded into nothing and the bird flew away indignantly, performing her encore in the next tree over. Liz was helping the Zhauri find me. After all we’d been through... Maybe she was being forced. Or maybe she thought I was somehow innocent and just needed to come back to prove it.
I knew the reasons didn’t matter, so I promised myself I could dwell and be tortured by them later. Right now I needed to get out of this mess, and out of this stretch of forest.
I forced myself to count to thirty to make sure those searchers were well enough away, but I only made it to twenty-one before deeming it safe to move. I took careful, measured steps away from the trunk, pushing through leaves and twigs as the branches of my oak tangled with the boughs of another. I pressed forward until I could grab a sturdy limb of the next tree, and I made it to the next trunk with my eyes closed and my mouth full of leaves.
I stayed up in the tree limbs as I distanced myself from my eastbound scent trail, aware I probably had more twigs protruding from my head than hair by now. I had been exiled for roughly five minutes and already looked like a wild animal.
I laughed softly to myself, marveling at how many weird things I could think about when my life was in horrible danger. Maybe I was just in these situations too often.
I climbed into the inner branches of a third tree right as loud yapping filled the forest behind me. It sounded like three or four dogs, and only five minutes away. Three minutes if they didn’t have to drag their owners behind them.
I leapt to the ground and began my exhausted jog west. Whoever was hunting me would come to the end of my false eastbound trail and spend the next few hours trying to figure out how I’d vanished. Hopefully
. It still didn’t hurt to put some distance between us.
Now that I was finally beginning to wear out, all the feelings I had thrown haphazardly into a box began leaking at an alarming rate. What had I just done?
I could never go home again, never see Liz’s smile or hear another of her warnings to stay safe. I could never even show my face in a Human city, for fear they’d recognize me.
And Archie... Everyone knew how close we were — I may have just put him on the line for treason too.
And what had I even gained for all of this? I wasn’t sure Vack had survived, and if my luck held out, Ebby would probably come crawling home to her father in the next hour with Prince Avalask out of the way. I may have given up everything for nothing at all.
But did I regret it?
No. Not for a second.
I could have followed Sir Avery’s directions. I could have shocked the life out of Prince Avalask while his son lay bleeding to death, or even just stayed still and done nothing at all… but I would have looked back every day for the rest of my life and regretted it.
So as much as my current situation sucked, I refused to regret my choice. The right choice.
I couldn’t say I felt good, but maybe a little less hysteric. I listened to the excited barks of dogs in the distance, then came to a stop as it dawned on me... They weren’t so distant. We were travelling away from each other — I shouldn’t be able to hear them.
I strained my ears and realized they were getting louder, heading west, as though they’d found my current trail. I stopped myself half way through whispering “What the...”
Those dogs must have been able to shanking fly! Unless...
Unless they had incredibly experienced owners who knew how to spot a back-traced trail. I was so stupid. How could I have underestimated the Zhauri like this?
I couldn’t lay another false trail with the dogs this close, but there were a hundred different streams that wound west on their way to the lake. Running water was as good as any faked trail.
I checked the moss on the nearest tree trunk, glanced up at the sun, and then booked it north so I’d be sure to cross one of them. A rushing creek came into view just as excited braying filled the forest behind me. Three minutes from me? Two?
I pulled a knife from my side, sawed off the ends of my hair, and flung them in the water so they would float and collect along the banks further down. I never saw if the trick worked though, because I was already running upstream, splashing noisily but leaving no scent trail to follow.
As soon as I found a rocky patch where I wouldn’t leave glaring footprints, I leapt from the water and headed north again until I hit the next rivulet and jumped back in to dash downstream, toward the lake. This had to buy me a few minutes of extra time.
An excited chorus of howls startled me because they sounded like they were already at the second creek, the one I was still running in. No way. They were figuring me out faster than I could stay ahead of them. I couldn’t even fathom how, but I could still beat them to the lake if we made this a race of speed instead of wits. I wasn’t winning the wits race.
I jumped back onto dry land as the barking came closer and bolted away like the hunted prey I was. I was slowed by a patch of thick grasses that grew up to my shoulders, but I tore through them and ducked under the limbs of a leaning maple before jumping over a small tangle of wild strawberries.
I reached the final slope, which tapered down to the lake, and tried to remember where exactly we had been on the shore last year when Archie had dragged me under. It was right here. I was almost sure of it.
I picked up speed as I flew down the hill and the dogs burst from the tall grasses. Black with white paws, grey with a black face, stark white, and brown with white patches – they were the Zhauri dogs.
I reached the water’s edge in a panic. This was a horrible idea. I could barely swim to save my life. Horrible, horrible, horrible —
I picked up a rock the size of my head and dove into the water. The drenching cold enveloped me instantly, muting the dog’s barks as if I’d stuffed pillows over my ears.
I needed to sink, but that didn’t keep me from panicking as the lake darkened, thickened, and compressed around me. I’ve never been fond of water, or the dark, but nothing is more terrifying than the two combined.
In a flash of anxiety, I realized the cave entrance could truly be anywhere, and I’d been a fool to think I’d be able to just find it in the black watery cliffs. I dropped the stone and lashed out with my arms and legs, trying to get back to the surface to take my chances with somebody I could fight. This lake was just a slow death waiting to happen.
I was too far down, and not an accomplished enough swimmer. I screamed a silent, distraught cry without opening my mouth, savoring the last air my lungs would ever taste. I kicked my legs, but the more I struggled, the more I just needed air. My last hot breath was beginning to feel toxic.
At least a minute had passed underwater. I looked desperately for anything resembling a cave as I fought toward the surface, but another half-minute passed, and I couldn’t hold my breath one second longer.
I tried to just let half of it out, but my lungs inhaled immediately on reflex and filled with water.
I coughed violently, expelling every bubble I’d kept inside of me, and that’s when my will to survive finally woke with an image clearer than reality. It was the perfect recollection from last year when Archie had dragged me into the underwater tunnel. It wasn’t far. Just a little further down and a little to my left.
I was so close, but I was drowning. There was nothing but water in my lungs and nose, and the tears in my eyes flowed straight into the murky lake as I thrashed.
My mind, my soul, it all just began to drift as though I was falling asleep. It didn’t even make sense to fight — there was nobody left to return to, nothing left of the life I used to know. But there was still Archie. If I went to sleep here, I would never see him again, never laugh with him again, and if he was sentenced for being a traitor, I wouldn’t be there to help him.
“NO!” I shrieked into the water, waking myself just a little as my hands lit in panic, illuminating the whole area. I grabbed handfuls of slimy underwater weeds and pulled myself into the cave, kicking my legs harder than I’d ever pushed them.
And I don’t actually remember coming out into the air, but I must have, because I remember vomiting water onto the stones of a cave I had been to once before. I crawled on my hands and knees before collapsing among the wet rocks, heaving water from my body as I choked. I treasured the taste of sweet air making its way into my lungs once more, and I hugged my sides as I broke into deep, uncontrollable coughing.
I was happy to be alive, but sickened with grief because I’d just destroyed everything that mattered. Nobody to return to, no place to call home, and I might have just bought Archie a ten thousand year sentence.
Chapter Twenty Six
Ebby
Ebby had absolutely no destination in mind when she jumped, and some demented part of her subconscious hurled her back into the Obsidian Tower. She dropped Vack’s body as her knees slammed into the frame of her bed and Vack skidded to a stop on the glass floor.
Ebby shrieked and crumpled as the pain in her legs crippled her, turning the world momentarily black. And before her sight even returned, she used her hands and elbows to pull herself across the ground to where she knew Vack had settled.
“Don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead,” she cried as the world of sight returned but Vack still hadn’t moved. He lay on his side, just slightly curled in on himself, and Ebby put both hands on his face but still couldn’t sense a single thought in his mind. He was still warm, and that was a good sign, wasn’t it?
Ebby grabbed his limp arm and held her thumb to his wrist to feel for a pulse. There was nothing. She quickly grabbed his other wrist, just in case, but it held no more life than the first. She pressed a thumb to her own wrist and found that she, in fact, was dead too. She must be
doing it wrong.
A small pool of Vack’s blood crept toward her across the glass, and she wrenched his shirt up so she could press her hands to the wound to heal it. Vack just couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.
Her entire body sagged, and she whispered, “I’m sorry,” as the hole in his chest disappeared, but he still didn’t move. She wished she’d spent more time reading Karissa’s book, or that she had one of the Tallies here to help.
Ebby wouldn’t mind dying here with Vack. She gave in to hopeless sobs and lamented for the millionth time that the world had been cursed with her for an Epic. It might just be her now. She might be free to destroy anything she wanted without Vack in her way.
But she wasn’t going to. She would be more like Allie. Make her own decisions. Do what she thought was right, no matter the consequences.
The door squeaked open, and Ebby felt more panic fill the air.
“NO!” Jalia sprinted and collapsed beside them, grabbing Vack’s hand as Mir stood frozen in the doorway, too startled to move. “Vack?”
Vack’s hand twisted quickly to grab Jalia’s, jerking her closer.
Ebby was caught mid-sob and didn’t even have the strength to scream at the realization that Vack wasn’t dead.
Mir crept cautiously closer while Jalia squeezed Vack’s hand and stared sightlessly ahead. Her eyes were still swollen and red, and Ebby could feel understanding in Jalia, as though Vack was reliving the past twenty minutes to her. “He’s not dead,” she said, finally looking up at Ebby. “This is how he mourns.”
Ebby choked on a laugh as Vack lay completely unaware. For all the times he’d mocked her for crying, it was sort of hilarious that he handled his own sadness by putting himself in a coma.
