Marcus’s only movement was to rub his wrists. “Thank you. You have a conscience and kindness. I didn’t know that was possible for a wildmagic.”

  “Nor did I think a Queen’s guard could laugh,” she said.

  “Oh, this is too sickly sweet.” Ithak grabbed Fen’s arm. “Leave the oaf and flee.”

  Fen pointed the sword at Marcus. “Don’t follow us.”

  She ran alongside Ithak. Marcus stayed next to the tree. There was an odd look in his eyes and she hesitated to think it was respect. She glanced back a few more times until he was little more than a glittering figure. Then he vanished in the darkness.

  “You are too soft,” Ithak said.

  “I was only being honourable.”

  “Surviving is the only honourable thing to do.” She still could only see the bandage. It was getting red.

  “Your wound has reopened,” she said.

  “Proof of your clumsy healing skills! Wait . . . be quiet.”

  At first Fen didn’t hear anything and wondered if it was Ithak’s imagination. Then came a whisper of wings swirling in the air above them. A child’s voice screeched, “Wildmagic. Wildmagic. Here. Caw!” Fen saw the wide, glowing eyes of a corvus, its wings outlined briefly by the moon’s light. Then it was gone.

  “It’ll be croaking our whereabouts to the guards,” Ithak said. “They’re on horseback. We are on foot. Our odds are horrible.”

  The two of them scrambled up a hill and through a line of bushes. The branches snapped and stabbed at Fen’s legs and arms. “Is this the start of Helwood?” she asked.

  “Ha! We’re still a league away. Faster! They’ll make good time on this land. There is some rocky earth somewhere in this darkness that’ll slow their horses down. We just have to find it.”

  But the moonlight revealed a gently rising landscape. No rocky hills, nor the sign of another tree or any cover.

  “Sheath that blade!” Ithak commanded. “You might as well light a torch.”

  She did so and discovered she could run faster without it in her hand. She kept her eyes on the moving patch of blood.

  A horse neighed in the gloom. “They’re getting closer,” Fen said.

  Ithak had vanished. She panicked for a moment before spotting the bandages floating off to her left. She hurried to catch up. “Quiet now,” he said. “Let’s hope they don’t have any infernus hounds.”

  She and Ithak stumbled up a gravelly incline, thankful that it would be harder for the horses to climb.

  There was another neigh. Then came the pounding of hooves and a shout. Fen’s heart was beating so loudly in her ears she could no longer hear properly.

  “They’re almost right on top of us,” Ithak whispered. “Change into a tree and hide. Try that.”

  “Truly?”

  “No, you fool!” He ripped his dressing off and tossed it away. “Ithak wishes he could aid you,” he said softly. “Ithak has come to enjoy your inane thoughts. But we must part now.”

  “You’re deserting me!” Fen tried to grab him, but he’d already moved.

  “Think of it as the smarter one surviving,” he whispered from a few feet away. “Ithak will sing your praises to all Ithak meets.”

  “Stay and fight!” she said.

  “Stop whining!” He was now a good distance away. “You’re just drawing attention to yourself. Keep running and they may not find you. Pull your hood up!”

  He was gone. She cursed him for a moment and then ran straight up the rocky incline, urging her legs to push harder. Forcing her lungs to suck in more air. The horses were getting closer. And so was the thumping of wings. A corvus cried out, “She’s here. Caw! Wildmagic! Here. Here. Caw. Here.”

  Glittering riders came into sight only ten yards away.

  Fen backed up against a large boulder, drew her crossbow from her knapsack and loaded it.

  The riders approached slowly, chargers snorting and fighting against their reins as if they wanted to trample her. She raised the crossbow.

  Something feathery brushed her face as a corvus dived down and grabbed her bow in its talons, dragging her up into the air. The weapon was ripped from her hands and she fell hard to the ground.

  As Fen got to her feet, the Queen’s guards rode up. There were two horses, but three guards. Marcus was seated behind one of the riders. She hadn’t seen him at first because his armour was still dull.

  “You’re cornered,” a guard said. He pointed his crossbow at her. “Raise your hands or I’ll put a bolt through your heart.”

  Fen slowly raised her hands. Marcus and the other guard dismounted.

  “This waif held you captive?” the guard on the ground asked. He drew his blade.

  “Yes,” Marcus said. “She took me unawares and stole my sword.”

  “You lost your blade to a girl!” snorted the guard with the crossbow. “This tale grows in the telling. Remove your hood, child.” He motioned with his crossbow and the moonlight caught the sharp metal point of the bolt.

  Fen drew her hood back. Her red hair glowed in the moonlight.

  “So she is a wildmagic!”

  “Loose your bolt,” the other guard commanded. “Before she bewitches us.”

  “No!” Marcus shouted. “I demand the right to slay her.”

  Fen swallowed. “Marcus . . . don’t . . .”

  He strode toward her and she wondered if she should raise her hand to strike him with vines as she had in the river. “Don’t try your tricks on me,” he hissed. “He’ll put a bolt through your eye.”

  “But you swore an oath!”

  “My oath to the Queen takes precedence over all others.”

  Ithak had been correct. Her ideals would be her death. And her stupidity in trusting Marcus would mean May would die too.

  Marcus reached toward her and she raised her hand to fend off a blow, urging her vines to grow and choke him. Nothing happened. Stupid vines! Marcus knocked aside her arms, drew his sword from the scabbard on her belt and held the blade in the air, letting out a small cry of triumph. “My sword! Biter!” He sounded like a child finding a lost toy. He spun around to show his companions. “I have my blade again!”

  “We can see that!” the mounted guard said. “Now run her through.”

  “Too easy! I’ll behead her,” he announced. “I thank you, brothers, for giving me this vengeance. For three days I’ve waited.”

  “Be quick about it!”

  “Stop!” Fen said. “Take me to my sister. The Queen promised safe passage. I beg you.”

  “How long should I let her beg?” Marcus turned his back on her and stepped toward his companions.

  “There’s nothing like the sound of a wildmagic begging,” said the guard on horseback. “What’s her magic?”

  “She grows twigs,” he said. “As far as I can tell, she only uses them to pick her nose.”

  “Ha! All this fuss for nothing!”

  “Behead her,” the other man said. “Then cut off her hands. I’ve seen girls this size turn soldiers to stone.”

  Marcus spun around and fixed her with a look of hatred. “You are going to die now, Fen.”

  “My blood will be on your soul,” she said. “I—I, Fen of—” She wanted to say her real name. The one written down. To speak it just once in her lifetime. But she’d never heard it. “I curse you. I curse all of you.”

  “I’ve been cursed by hundreds of wildmagics,” the guard on horseback said. “I still breathe and all who have cursed me are dead.”

  “It’s time to die,” Marcus said.

  Then he spun and struck the guard next to him right through the heart. The man fell to the ground. Fen stood completely still, in shock. Marcus leapt toward the mounted Queen’s guard. “Traitor!” the guard shouted. “Traitor!” He loosed his bow and the bolt caught Marcus in the leg. Marcus charged on. The guard dropped his bow and drew his sword, and when Marcus took another staggering step, the man pulled back on his charger’s reins and shouted, “Up, horse!” The massive creature reared and struck Marcus with its front hooves.

  He fell down and didn’t move. Fen ran to his side. “Get up, Marcus!” He opened his eyes, tried to rise, but failed. Fen struggled to pull him to a seated position.

  The Queen’s guard dismounted. “I don’t know how you got inside his mind, but I’ll take your head to the Queen. And his.”

  He raised his sword.

  She pointed her wooden hand. “Get back or I’ll strike you down.”

  The guard hesitated and she tried to imagine something growing from her hand. Anything. But again, nothing happened. The vines didn’t seem to want to grow when she beckoned them. “Grow! Grow!” she shouted. A vine flitted out and fell to the ground.

  The guard laughed. Then his diadem flew from his head and he dropped his sword. A stone had smashed into his temple and was now floating in the air. “This isn’t twigs!” he shouted. The stone struck him again and he crumpled. It hit him once more in the head and he lay still.

  The stone fell to the ground. “Well, that was perfect timing,” Ithak said, sounding completely pleased with himself.

  “Thank you!” Fen answered. “I mean, it would’ve been better if you’d stuck around the first time. But thank you.”

  “My pleasure. Ithak missed your nattering.” He put his hand on his pouch. “And this Marcus appears to suffer from kindness. Very curious.”

  Fen pulled on Marcus’s arms, but his leg collapsed before he could properly stand. “Help me get him up,” Fen said.

  “First Ithak will behead these Queen’s soldiers. Otherwise they’ll be up and around and chasing after us.”

  “Let them live!” Marcus said. “They’re my brothers.”

  The one he’d stabbed through the chest was already moving. They healed so quickly!

  “Oh, the soft hearts have the day,” Ithak moaned. He undid the sword belt on the nearest guard and took it. Fen helped Marcus up, and once he was standing on his own, she stole the other sword.

  “I must get this out.” Marcus grabbed the crossbow bolt.

  “No, don’t—” Fen started.

  But he yanked out the bolt and tossed it to the ground.

  “You’ve just made the wound worse!” she said. “I could’ve cut the bolt head off and pushed the shaft through.”

  “There’s no time,” he said. “And I couldn’t ride with it in my leg.” He limped over to one of the horses.

  “Ithak will get the other nag,” Ithak said. The second charger, which had stopped several yards away, raised its ears and shied back. Then the reins lifted and moved in the air. The horse reared up several times, but the reins continued to float. “Stupid beasts never did like me.”

  Fen helped Marcus onto the horse and then climbed up herself and took the reins. The charger did not seem to mind having a new master. Marcus clasped his arms around her.

  “Follow me,” Ithak said. His horse cantered ahead. Fen followed.

  “Traitor!” the Queen’s guard yelled after them. He was sitting up and holding his head. “We’ll get you.”

  Fen urged the horse to a slow gallop. “You didn’t kill me,” she said after they’d been riding for several minutes. The corvuses followed high above in the air.

  “No, I did not,” Marcus answered. “I owe you several lives. And besides, we both have magic in our veins.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Pigheaded

  FEN GLANCED BACK TO SEE THAT MARCUS HAD HIS hand on the wound, trying to hold back the blood.

  “Should we stop?” Fen asked.

  “No,” he said. “I’ll heal.” She didn’t want to argue. Whatever magic had healed him before was obviously failing now.

  She urged the horse on. She had only ridden the mine ponies, and it hadn’t been an easy thing to do with one hand—her stump couldn’t grab the pommel or the horse’s mane for balance. This charger was huge in comparison. It moved with fluid grace and controlling it gave her a sense of power. She held the pommel with her left hand and clutched the reins in her wooden one.

  That new hand was still such a great mystery. It shot out vines when it wanted to, but it didn’t come to her defence when requested. Yet she could open and close the fingers at will. Her right hand had been dominant until the Queen had taken it away. So she’d learned how to use her left. Now, as if no time had passed, her right hand was dominant again.

  “Ride harder!” Ithak shouted. “Shove the Queen’s guard off and you’ll be as fast as me.” He galloped ahead.

  The horse was stained with sweat and had obviously been ridden hard by its previous master. Yet the charger continued ahead, easily climbing a hill. Despite its strength, Fen’s horse did have two passengers and soon Ithak was outdistancing them by several lengths.

  “Here! Caw! Here!” A corvus squawked. The cry was picked up by several other corvuses. When she glanced up, Fen was shocked to see ten of them circling in the sky. “Wildmagic. Here, brothers and sisters! Caw!”

  “They could attack us at any moment,” she said

  “Just gallop.” Marcus waved his sword above his head. “They are not the bravest of fowls.”

  They charged over the next rise and looked back to see something much worse: the sun cresting the horizon revealed hundreds of riders in pursuit.

  “By Zaoshen!” Fen pointed. “There are so many of them.”

  “It’s two regiments,” Marcus said. “My mother—the Queen—wants to be rid of you for certain. But we may make it. Look!”

  In the distance, like hands reaching up from the ground, were the first trees of Helwood.

  “Hurry! Hurry!” Ithak shouted. “Safety is near!”

  Fen glanced back again. The pursuers were gaining, and she guessed they’d soon be in crossbow range. Their formations were perfect, wheeling in and out between each other at full speed.

  “The distance is too great,” Marcus said. “I’m too heavy! Ithak is correct. Be sure to tell him so.”

  He jumped off. Fen looked back with horror as he collapsed and then slowly used his sword to raise himself to his feet.

  “Fool!” she shouted. “Arrogant, stupid fool!” She yanked the reins, circled the horse and, ignoring Ithak’s shouts, rode right back to Marcus. She thudded to a stop only a few inches away. “Get on!”

  “No! You’re faster without me. Ride! I’ll slow them down.”

  “I’m not leaving you here.”

  “It’s my choice! I owe you a life. Now begone!” He waved his sword at her as if she were an annoying fly.

  “Don’t you dare dismiss me!”

  Ithak galloped up. His voice carried like a trumpet: “You idiots! You’ll both die. Come, Fen. The Queen can’t have you! You’re far too valuable to lose.”

  “Heed him!” Marcus shouted.

  “No.” Fen dismounted. “You run, Ithak! It’s me they want.”

  “You foolish, pigheaded girl,” Marcus shouted. “I told you to leave.”

  A crossbow bolt thudded into the ground between them. It was followed by two more that struck to either side.

  “Damn the both of you!” Ithak yelled. The stirrups snapped up and down and he raced off.

  Another bolt stuck in the earth next to Fen’s horse.

  “Go!” Marcus shouted. “I command you.”

  “Get on the horse, I command you!”

  There were now countless bolts thudding into the earth. It was only luck that none of them had struck home.

  “I’ll come,” Marcus huffed. “But I don’t owe you a life for this!”

  She leapt onto the horse and extended her hand. He sheathed his sword and grabbed the back of the saddle instead, struggling to pull himself up into place. “Ride!” he shouted finally.

  She slammed her heels into the horse and it shot forward. The gap had been closed and the thunder of the Queen’s Guard on horseback was echoing around them—a sound that would make even the strongest army quiver. It was like a storm descending.

  After several minutes of hard riding, their charger began huffing and coughing. A bolt struck its haunches and it let out a strangled sound. “I’m so sorry,” Fen said, patting the horse’s neck. “But go! Go faster.”

  Fen felt an inkling of hope when she saw that the line of the forest was within striking distance.

  Five riders came out of a gulley, directly in front of them. They were clad in leather jerkins—common soldiers. Not immortal. But obviously dangerous. They drew their blades.

  “They sent the speediest ahead to outflank us,” Marcus said.

  In the distance, nearer to the forest, several Queen’s guards were pursuing Ithak and loosing bolts at the horse. Was a bolt floating in mid-air, shot through Ithak? His charger tumbled and fell to the earth and guards encircled it.

  “Go right at the soldiers,” Marcus said.

  “Are you mad?”

  “No. Go straight!” he shouted. “Our horse is bigger than theirs.”

  The soldiers were on mounts that were lithe and meant for speed. Not power. The charger was a good four or five hands taller, and it bowled right into the soldiers, scattering them. Only one had enough wits to swing his sword, but it broke when Marcus met the blade with his own.

  The trees were now within reach! They were so big it was like Fen and Marcus were riding toward a line of wooden giants.

  The charger, finding a last burst of speed, carried the two of them into the embrace of those giants. Right into the arms of Helwood.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Helwood

  FEN HELD HERSELF FLAT AGAINST THE HORSE AS CROSSBOW bolts hissed through branches, sticking into trees. Mounted Queen’s guards were crashing through the forest only a few horse-lengths behind them. She didn’t dare look back; instead she kicked her heels harder into her charger’s side and shouted, “Go! Go! Go!”

  Long fingers of wood poked at her, slicing her face. She ducked even closer to the horse. The sun was swallowed up by leaves and it was getting harder to see the path. Several moments later, the pursuit grew quiet. Even the sound of her own horse’s galloping softened. Fen risked a glance over her shoulder. There was no path to be seen. It was as if the trees had formed a wall.

  She urged the horse onwards. Soon the only sound was the hard, desperate wheezing of her mount. She turned the charger left, and then right, following a narrower and narrower trail.