“You don’t have to,” said Everett. It figured he’d buddy up to Avery again, as if he’d totally forgotten that the prince had tried to burn them alive in the forest. “Take Ranulf and the others back to Almaric’s. We’ll stay and get the maps from Avery.”
She turned to Ben, who put his hands up. “Don’t look at me. I think it’s nuts.”
“But he’s the only one who knows where those maps are,” Everett insisted. “We’ll never find the Adepts without them.”
“That’s what he told you,” Holly said. “Forget it. We’re not doing it.”
Bittenbender stepped around Avery’s back, bringing his dagger to his throat. “And I say we are doin’ it, lassie. He’s too big a prize to let go. Dvergar settlements will be marked on the king’s land maps, and I’ve a mind to take those as well, if there be any.”
“It’s suicide,” Holly said, struggling to keep her temper. “Ranulf, what do you think?”
She hated to ask him. He leaned against the dungeon walls, his every breath a rasping chore. He raised his good eye to her. “You may well exchange one set of prisoners for another. His Highness . . .” Ranulf winced as some bruise pained him. “His Highness cannot be trusted.”
“It’s not up fer a vote,” Bittenbender cut in. “Ye got two choices, Adept. I kill ’im here, or I take ’im wi’ us.”
Avery’s face went white, and he made some gurgling noises through his gag. His wide blue eyes pleaded with her.
“Lady Holly, think on it.” Jade kneaded her ankle with one soft paw. “Without maps, our quest is doomed, even if the sea witch arrives. We would be more likely to find a single acorn in the Northern Wood.”
“Maybe . . .” Holly searched her brain for some other idea. “Maybe we could come back for them?”
“And breach the castle a second time? Nay. The time is now.”
Holly shivered in the damp air. She hated this. She couldn’t let Bittenbender kill Avery, and if he did know where to find the sea charts . . .
“All right,” she said, turning back to Bittenbender. “I came here to free Ranulf and the others. This other idea is on your head. But you do it on your own. Ben and Everett are coming with me.”
Bittenbender’s lips curved into a nasty grin. “Suits me. Wiggers, go with the prisoners and be assured they get out all right. Swikehard, you’n me’ll follow His Highness to the maps.”
“No!” Everett pulled Holly aside and whispered. “Don’t you see? They’ll just kill him once he hands over the maps. Then they’ll tell you that he double-crossed them.”
Ben joined them. “He’s right, Holly. Avery doesn’t stand a chance if we don’t go along.”
“You said the plan was nuts. What do you care about Avery, anyway?”
“Nothing,” Ben said, straightening his back. “I just don’t like to see people—kids—get killed in cold blood.”
“But . . . But . . .” She was supposed to keep them safe. It was her job.
“But you cannot,” said Jade quietly. How did he always know what she was thinking?
“Fine. Do what you want.” Holly put one arm around Ranulf’s waist, letting him lean on her. “But I am not breaking back into this castle to rescue you guys. You got that?”
“Just do your bit,” Everett said. “We’ll get the maps.”
In spite of her anger, she gave Ben a quick hug, and looked Everett in the eye. “You won’t have a wand, you know. And not many weapons.”
“It’s okay. Bittenbender and Swikehard will watch out for us,” he said.
Holly shook her head. If only she could believe that.
Chapter 19
* * *
Splitting Up
It figured, Holly thought, that the boys would go off on some impossible quest and leave her to do the real work, which was getting the prisoners out of the castle. But at least the smaller group was easier to manage, especially with Ranulf. She and the Dvergar might fade into the castle walls, but there was no disguising a centaur. They had to get out as quickly as possible.
Still, she couldn’t help feeling she should’ve done more to keep Ben with her. She was supposed to lead them, and it was her job to protect her brother. But lately he’d started acting like he didn’t need protection.
She could hardly spare any of this much thought as they climbed the winding stone staircase back up to the heart of the castle. It was tough going for Ranulf, who paused at every landing and heaved great, rattling breaths. More than once Jade leaped onto his back and puffed into his face as he had done in the dungeon cell; this seemed to revive Ranulf enough to move on. Meanwhile, Holly was half dragging one of the Dvergar prisoners, a man called Onck. Wiggers brought up the rear with Kepswich, the other prisoner. It was a long trip up the staircase.
It was much worse going out than coming into the castle. Ranulf’s hooves echoed off the stone floors. The corridors somehow stretched longer than before, but they didn’t dare move too quickly, for fear of sounding like an attack of cavalry. The rescued prisoners could only shuffle along, the Dvergar occasionally moaning as they went, even though Holly and Wiggers took turns whispering, “Quiet!” as loud as they dared.
As it turned out, she needn’t have worried. They met no one until they reached the moat, where Holly again cast the tubhair eas spell over the castle guards. The centaurs spied them and slipped into the moat. In a few moments they had crossed the water and stood shivering on the far bank.
“But where are the others?” Hoofstone asked.
“It’s a long story. They’ll be coming soon,” Holly said, hoping she was right.
The centaur gazed across the moat at the enchanted guards. “We watched when you cast the spell the first time, my lady. It lasts only a few moments.”
Which meant the guards would be on alert when the boys came out.
“They had to make things more complicated,” she said, her anger covering her fear. “Now what do we do?”
“Brune and I will stay, Lady Holly,” said Hoofstone. “And see that the lads escape safely.” He pulled his longbow from his back.
Holly hated to put the centaurs at risk, but it seemed the best plan. She thanked Hoofstone, then led Ranulf and Wiggers, along with the two Dvergar prisoners, to the edge of the wood.
“But it be a fair walk back to the Elm,” said the little red-haired man. “How will the prisoners bear it?”
“No worries,” said Holly, sounding braver than she felt. “I can do the Vanishment spell. I learned it last year.” She didn’t mention to Wiggers that she’d only succeeded in doing the spell a few times. “Now, gather around. Everyone needs to be connected.” Holly took hold of Ranulf’s hand, and she felt Jade’s velvety paw on her knee; the Dvergar each took an arm or shoulder. She pulled out the wand and took a deep breath.
She had learned by now that the bigger the spell, the more quiet and concentration she needed. In her mind she counted off everyone who needed Vanishing—herself, Wiggers, Ranulf, Jade, the other two Dvergar—and took a moment to note where each of them had grabbed on. She visualized the route to Almaric’s Elm. For a few moments, everyone’s eyes were shut tight and they breathed as one being. Holly raised the wand, picturing the cottage as clearly as she could; then she shouted: “Im—”
But a cold, sharp blade at her neck kept her from finishing the spell. Her eyes flew open. The knight Grandor stood in front of her, with three more armored men behind him.
Chapter 20
* * *
The Chamber of Maps
Everett had tried his best to look brave as Holly disappeared down the corridor, holding her lantern ahead of her. The gentle clip-clop of the centaur’s hooves faded above their heads as the group ascended the staircase. A gloom fell once they were gone.
“I hope they’ll be okay,” Ben said. For once he sounded not whiny, but genuinely worried.
“Let’s get the maps,” Bittenbender growled. He prodded Avery forward with his dagger. The others trudged after them, and Everett bega
n to think this was a very bad idea after all. Bittenbender might gladly give his life to take out the prince, but Everett wasn’t ready to do that—nor, he thought, was Ben.
At the top of the stairs, the Dvergar ripped the gag from Avery’s mouth. “Now,” he snarled, “ye’d better pray ye steer us true.”
Avery took a minute to cough and compose himself, trying to gain back some of his royal carriage, but his voice trembled. “R-round yon back corridor, through the courtyard. In the—the keep.”
“In the keep?” Ben squeaked.
Everett’s heart fell. The keep was the most dangerous part of the castle. They’d be trapped there.
“I have the key,” the prince reminded them, indicating the ring on his belt. “ ’Twill be quick work, I assure you.”
“Quick work under the king’s nose,” said Swikehard.
“At least it isn’t far,” Everett put in. “Let’s just get it over with.”
“Oh, it’ll be over, unless I miss my bet.” Bittenbender gave Avery a shove. “Lead on.”
Despite what he’d said, Everett had hoped the maps room would be in some deserted corner of the castle, where they could stay out of everyone’s way. As they walked through the moonlit courtyard, he wondered what was to prevent Avery from shouting at the top of his voice. But then, Avery had always put himself first. He’d never risk it.
“I hope we’re not being stupid,” Ben whispered as Avery opened the tall iron door to the keep with a trembling hand. He led them past the great hall, which yawned dark and empty, and up a corner staircase.
“We must ascend two floors, then to the Chamber of Maps on the east side,” Avery whispered.
“And the king?” Swikehard asked. “Where be he?”
“He has retired for the night.”
“What about the queen?” Ben asked.
“My . . . my mother is not well. She never leaves her chamber at this time of year.”
“What’s that mean, this time of year?”
“It means she is not your concern.” The look he turned on Ben stopped even the Dvergar in their tracks for a moment. Then Avery shivered, blinking, as if regaining himself. “It be safe enough. The king’s chambers are in the west wing of the main castle, not here.”
Everest thought that was unlikely. A king sleeps in the strongest part of the fortress. But he and Ben followed the two Dvergar, who prodded Avery up the stairs.
“In case you forgot,” Ben whispered, “he double-crossed us before.”
Everett didn’t answer. He didn’t tell Ben the real reason he’d gone along with the prince’s cockeyed plan; perhaps he didn’t even know it himself. But somewhere buried under his regard for Holly and his friendship with Ben was a bitter seed that had sprouted the year before: Holly and her wand.
He tried to tell himself that the wand didn’t matter, that the fact that everyone here thought Holly was so special was fine by him. But there had been a wonderful couple of days of glory last year when everyone had looked at him with awe and wonder as he threw knights from their horses and conjured dragons out of thin air.
With stolen magicks, a voice whispered.
Everett had only imagined it—the voice of the fiery Elemental who had imbued his stolen wand with power. Her voice had gotten into his head somehow, and he heard it often, whenever he felt especially low. He wished someone here tried to make him feel better about himself instead of worse.
Maybe that was why he needed to trust Avery.
They gained the second floor. The prince motioned to his left and winced as Bittenbender shoved him forward. The keep was square, and small compared to the main castle, so it wasn’t long before the corridor turned a corner and faced three large, imposing doors.
Everett felt something tremble against his chest. Curious, he pulled the chain out of his shirt. It was the gold locket he’d found in the wood. The water and earth symbols were glowing, and the pendant tugged on its chain as if it were alive.
“Well?” Bittenbender was saying. “Which door is it?”
The locket pulled Everett toward the center door. “It’s this one.” He shoved the chain back into his shirtfront.
“How do you know that?” Ben asked.
“He speaks truth.” A sheen of sweat gleamed on Avery’s forehead, even as his breath smoked in the chill air. “This door leadeth to the chamber of maps.”
“Then get it open.” Bittenbender motioned to Swikehard, who stood aside to keep watch. Avery fumbled with the keys. “Afore the sun rises, Yer Highness,” said the Dvergar in a low voice.
“In a moment,” the prince snapped. Ben and Everett exchanged uncomfortable glances. Neither of them wanted to see Bittenbender lose his temper, and Avery wasn’t used to being ordered about.
Everett’s locket settled warmly against his skin. He smiled to himself. He didn’t know how it worked, but he didn’t care. The locket was special. That was all that mattered.
“Ah! Here,” Avery said with relief, and the door swung open.
It was a cozy room, the natural cold tempered with gold and red tapestries and fine woven rugs. A dying fire burned in the stone fireplace, which was topped with a mahogany mantelpiece; sharp-beaked ravens were carved along the columns on either side. Tall bookshelves crowded the shadowy corners. Dominating the center of the room was a broad oak desk littered with open books. A lantern on the desk was still burning.
“Someone’s been here,” Bittenbender said. “And not long ago.”
“Let’s get this thingy and get out of here,” Ben said.
“The nautical maps be under lock and key.” Avery unlocked a tall wooden cabinet near the fireplace, revealing a secretary desk. At least ten rolls of parchment filled the pigeonholes. Everett pulled one out gently and spread it open.
Unlike the monochrome antique maps Everett had studied at home, these were decorated in bright colors. In the corners, square-rigged ships sailed with dragons at their prows. Their blue and silver flags bore the symbols from Holly’s key: the spiral, the flame, the wave, the earth. The same symbols that were etched on the cover of Everett’s locket.
Ben peered over his shoulder. “Is that the one we need?”
“I say take ’em all,” said the Dvergar. He started stuffing rolls of parchment into Everett’s satchel.
Avery’s eyes widened. “But if all the charts go missing—”
“This desk hasn’t been opened in a long while,” Everett said. “Surely no one will notice.”
“But the dust will be disturbed,” Avery said. “My father is certain to wonder at the cause.”
“I should say so,” came a deep voice.
Everett’s chin jerked up. A figure emerged from the back of the room. He must have been sitting hunched there in the dark among the bookshelves, his heavy cloak camouflaged in the gloom. A hard, bristly dark beard threaded with gray masked his face; Everett knew him at once.
The king.
Chapter 21
* * *
The Wand Fails
Holly didn’t dare swallow. The blade was so hard on her throat that one movement would open a vein.
“Now let’s have that wand,” said Grandor softly, holding out his callused palm.
She couldn’t perform the spell, not with the knight touching her, or she would Vanish him along with the rest. But she wouldn’t—she couldn’t—give up the wand.
“At once, or forfeit your life,” Grandor said. He turned the sword blade’s edge to her skin.
Holly felt Áedán, the Golden Salamander, gather his power. But before he could act, the knight’s sword flew from his grasp. It glowed as if the moon still glinted off the blade, though it had landed in the dark turf. The hilt righted itself, and turned, as if looking for something.
“Here, Claeve-Bryna,” said Ranulf. The sword leaped into his hand, emitting a trail of sparks.
It was Ranulf’s battle sword, no doubt lost when he was captured. Of course it had sought him. Just holding it seemed to give the centaur str
ength, and he lifted his head. His protruding ribs heaved with the effort, but he raised the sword over Grandor.
At that moment several things happened. Another knight’s sword clanged against Ranulf’s, and the centaur shoved Holly behind him. She fell against Wiggers and Kepswich, who tumbled to the ground like dominoes. The other prisoner, Onck, pulled Wiggers’s dagger from his belt and staggered forward; the other knights charged back.
Holly struggled to her feet and pulled up Wiggers, who cursed when he found his dagger missing. “Fall back, Lady!” he shouted to Holly, and grabbed the longbow off her shoulder. He took one of her arrows and shot it into the crowd of knights.
It was hard to see anything. Wiggers and Onck got lost in the melee of armored men; Ranulf ran back and forth in the small clearing, his sword throwing sparks; the knights bellowed. Holly tried to fight her way to the front, but she couldn’t get beyond Ranulf, and then she felt Jade’s claws in her ankle. “Tarry here, Lady Holly,” he said. “It is Ranulf’s task to protect you.”
“I’m supposed to be protecting him,” she said, and scrabbled around in the grass for her dropped wand. Finally she snatched it up and pointed it at the nearest knight. “Stop!” she cried, and waited for the blaze of power to streak down her arm and out the wand tip.
But nothing happened.
“I said, stop!” she cried again.
For an instant the wand trembled and warmed in its familiar way, but then it cooled again; she wasn’t making the connection with it. Ranulf had already felled one knight with his sword, and a few of the others were falling back to the castle. Then Hoofstone the centaur, still hanging back in the trees, charged forward and shot an arrow into the brawl. He was sure to shoot one of their friends.
“No, Hoofstone!” Holly shouted. She closed her eyes and focused the wand again.
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