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Chapter Eighteen

Only after the unicorn herd had disappeared into the forest did Rafe and Jeremy notice Emilie was gone.

She’d been sitting by a tree about fifty feet away from them. They saw the tree, but there was no Emilie.

“She was right there,” Rafe said. “We were talking…She was there, then—”

“Emilie!” Jeremy shouted, his voice echoing through the forest loud enough to rattle the leaves on the great red trees. “Maybe the Bright Boys took her? They usually aren’t that clever, but maybe they grabbed her when the herd ran past.” He swore violently. “God, they must have been waiting for us. They must have known we were coming.”

“Can you feel her?” Rafe asked. “Can you find her?”

Jeremy closed his eyes. He shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said.

“She’s dead?” Rafe demanded.

“No, she’s…I can’t feel anything. At all. It’s like she’s hidden. Somehow. Or I can’t…It’s gone. I can’t sense her, Rafe. I don’t know why.”

“Dammit.” Rafe bent over and caught his breath. “This is my fault. I wasn’t watching out for her and—”

“It’s not your fault. We were separated from her for thirty seconds, and they got her.”

A small voice in his head taunted him, telling him this was what he’d put his mother through. Coming here had been a mistake.

Jeremy started to say something but stopped and held up his hand.

Rafe felt it before he heard it. The ground rumbled.

“The herd?”

“Horses. Someone’s coming.” Jeremy drew his sword from his sheath. “More than one. Get ready.”

Rafe felt a deep and eerie calm settle into his body. His heart rate slowed, and his hands didn’t shake as he nocked an arrow onto his bowstring. The sound of horse hooves grew louder…louder. The ground shook harder. He waited.

Out of the misty shadows emerged horses and their riders. Women, all of them, in tunics and leather armor. Rafe counted seven as they galloped into the clearing and reined their horses to a halt. He scanned them for weapons and saw swords and bows.

As if sharing one mind, he and Jeremy took their positions back to back, protecting each other as the riders arrayed themselves in a half circle facing them.

From the corner of his eye, Rafe saw Jeremy lower his sword. The one in the center of the circle dismounted. A tall Black woman in dark leather armor with red gauntlets on her wrists faced Jeremy.

“It’s all right,” Jeremy said to Rafe. “Stand down. They’re with us.”

“Are we?” the woman said. “State your name and your business, and we’ll see about that.”

“Tempest, it’s me,” Jeremy said.

“Weapons down,” she ordered.

Rafe looked at Jeremy, who nodded. Slowly, Jeremy laid his sword on the ground. Rafe put his bow down and his quiver and felt immediately naked without them.

“Name and business,” the woman said again.

“Business? The queen’s business, always. And name? Jeremy? Red? Hello?” He pointed at his head, his face. “Is it the beard?”

“Prove yourself.” She stood before him and pulled her sword, pointed it at him. Rafe took a step forward, but Jeremy moved in front of him, putting himself between them.

“Whoa, wait a minute.” Jeremy held up his hands, pleading peace. “What’s going on?”

“You could be a Bright Boy,” she said. “We’ve been overrun with them lately.”

Jeremy touched the tip of the sword of the soldier he’d called Tempest, then held up his finger to show blood trickling from the cut.

“No smoke. See?”

“So you’re not a Bright Boy,” she said. “Doesn’t prove you’re our Red.”

“What do you want?” he demanded. “Driver’s license? Passport? Library card?”

“You send a card to a library?” said one of the other women, the palest one with white hair.

Rafe felt like a drowning man. Who were these women? What were they talking about? They were all heavily armed with swords on their hips and knives strapped to their boots. He could grab his bow off the ground, but it would be useless in such close quarters. Even if he used an arrow as a spear, he’d get run through with a sword before he could pull one from his quiver. He had to stop this somehow.

He stepped forward and held out his hands.

“I swear Jeremy is who he says he is. I’m Rafe. But none of that matters. The queen’s sister is missing. She was just here with us, and now she’s—”

Are sens

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