A thin mist hovered close to the ground, filling the clearing, and a thick layer of clouds blotted out the stars. If I had to guess, dawn was not too far away, but the weather made it impossible to know for sure without a clock, and it seemed the gamekeeper hadn’t felt the need to keep one in his hut. The atmosphere felt heavy and full of dread, a reflection of my current mood. Clicking my tongue, I called the horses over.
Gideon, now bristling with weapons and ammunition, joined me, carrying Wallah’s saddle and bridle. “This isn’t our first fight, Evie. Don’t overthink it. You’re stronger than you’ve ever been.”
“I’m fighting a stronger foe than I’ve ever fought too.” Adaleiz held still as I arranged her blanket and settled the saddle on her back.
Niffin moseyed outside, toting Kosha’s gear. He blew a high, piercing whistle. Moments later his horse trotted out of the gloom and stopped at his side. “So... are we really doing this?”
“Yes.” I tightened the girth. “We need to use the Council’s attack to our advantage.”
Movement in the hut’s doorway drew my attention. Brigette stood at the threshold. “If we can get close enough, it’s possible I can grab Faercourt’s reins again before he knows it.”
“If he hasn’t taken off the necklace,” Gideon said.
“How’s your djageesh supply?” I asked.
She reached into her cloak pocket and retrieved her tin. A flame flickered to life at the tip of her fingers. She lit a cigarette, inhaled, and exhaled a thin stream of foul smoke. Then she winked at me. “It’s good to go.”
My grandfather’s spirit stirred, as though waking from a deep sleep. Her confidence is inspiring, he said. You could learn a little something from that girl.
I think it’s just an act. She’s as scared as the rest of us.
Of course she is. Ninety-nine percent of confidence is pretending. Pretend until you’ve convinced everyone, including yourself.
Malita squeezed past Brigette and handed Niffin a muffin. She had changed out of her usual flowery gowns, choosing, instead, to dress like me. She wore a pair of dark riding knickers, tall boots, and a long blousy shirt belted at the waist. Brigette, I realized, was dressed similarly. I examined my own clothes, the same black pants I’d worn for two days and Jackie’s wrinkled shirt. At least I wouldn’t mind getting blood on them.
“Brigette, are you riding with me?” I asked.
She huffed. “I should really look into getting myself a horse.”
Gideon, Niffin, and Malita mounted up as Gerda strode into the yard. “Leaving without saying goodbye, my girl?”
“Goodbyes are for people who won’t be seeing each other for a while. I plan to see you again very soon.” How was that for pretend confidence, Grandfather?
She smiled, full cheeks plumping. “At least give me a hug. I’ve been in short supply since we parted.”
I hurried over to her and threw my arms around her thick waist. She hugged me, enclosing me in warmth and softness. She smelled of yeast and comfrey.
“I believe in you, my dear. I always have, and I’m not the only one. Your father—” Her voice broke, and she paused to collect herself. “He would be so, so proud of you.”
Before I gave in to my tears, I escaped Gerda’s hug, climbed into Adaleiz’s saddle, and held my hand out for Brigette. She took it, and I hauled her into the seat behind me. Squeezing my legs, I clicked my tongue, and we ambled into the clearing. Brigette lit our path with a blazing red lantern. Gideon took the lead, and Niffin fell in behind me.
We weaved through the forest a short way before encountering a well-worn path, and for the first time I recognized my surroundings. “I know where we are. I rode these paths with Nonnie all the time. We’re no more than a mile or two away from Fallstaff’s borders.”
Gideon tugged Wallah’s reins and stopped. The rest of us paused behind him. “If we get separated, the stables at Fallstaff are our rendezvous point.”
No one spoke as we approached Fallstaff’s borders. The darkness felt ominous. The silence oppressive. Gideon suddenly halted and threw up a hand, gesturing for us to stop.
“What is it?” I whispered. “What did you—”
A burst of gunfire shattered the quiet. They bounced off Gideon’s shield—he must have still been carrying the token Brigette gave us the night we raided the basilica—but Niffin jerked and grunted. He toppled from his horse. Malita shrieked and jumped down beside him while the rest of us dismounted and scurried for cover.
Brigette and I rushed to Niffin’s side, crouching as she lit a small orb and examined him. Glistening blood bloomed from his left side over his ribs. She touched his wound, and he clenched his teeth, swallowing a scream.
Bullets zoomed overhead. Bolts of colorful Magic screamed through the trees. I’d lost sight of Gideon. Fear formed a hard, cold lump in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
“I can stop the bleeding for now,” Brigette said, “but we need to get him somewhere safe so I can stabilize him.”
“The stables.” Staying low, I motioned for the others to follow me and prayed Gideon would catch up. A huge crash in the distance and a loud yell drew the gunfire and Magical assault away from us. I suspected Gideon had created a distraction, giving us a chance to get away. “Follow me.”
Working together, we dragged Niffin along. We clung to the deepest shadows as we trekked through the woods, winding along game trails until we reached the rear of the stables at the edge of Fallstaff’s lawn. I cracked open the stable doors and ushered everyone inside.
Brigette lit a ball of light and a djageesh cigarette and waggled her fingers at me. “Give me your knife.”
I slipped a blade from the sheath in my boot and handed it to her. While Malita and I arranged Niffin on a bed of clean hay in an empty stall, Brigette went to work, visiting the four corners of the stables, carving something in each corner post and muttering under her breath. She returned to Niffin’s side and inhaled a huge puff of smoke that she exhaled in a series of rings that drifted toward the hayloft. She closed her eyes and whispered something, and a tingling sensation washed across my skin and faded away.
“It’s done. I can’t say my ward will stand up to a brute-force attack like the one the Council is waging against your house, but it should hold for a while. Long enough to give us a head start if we need to run, anyway.”
“What about Niffin?” I asked. Malita had torn the scarf from her hair and had folded it into a compress that she pressed against Niffin’s wound.
“I’ll take care of him,” Brigette said. “Don’t worry. It wasn’t a lethal hit as long as he doesn’t lose too much blood.”
I pulled up my Thunder Cloak’s hood, fastened the closure, and whispered my grandfather’s name. “Trevelyan.” His spirit stirred inside me in response. The sensation of a cool breeze blew through me, between my ribs and around my spine. “Stay here. I’m going to get Gideon.”
I ducked into the woods and retraced our path back to the horses, but Gideon was gone. The gunfire had moved farther west. I followed it, assuming Gideon had purposefully led the guards away from our rendezvous point. A ball of blue light exploded through the trees several yards ahead. Its illumination burnt a bright streak through the shadows. I trailed it, scanning for Gideon.
Another burst of gunfire and another blue missile tore through the forest. The light briefly shone on a tall figure bounding through the trees. I raced to meet him and had nearly caught up to him when another glowing blue sphere slammed through his Magical barrier and threw him to the ground.
Swallowing a scream, I flew to his side. “Gideon.” I clutched his arm. “Gideon, are you all right?”
“Fine.” He sounded as though he was speaking through gritted teeth. “Fried my shoulder, but I’ll live. Why are you here? You should be at the stables.”
“And leave you without any backup? You know me better than that. Come on.” I shoved my arm under him and helped him stand. “Brigette’s got the stables warded, and she’s working on Niffin’s wound. Hopefully she has enough Magic juice left to help you too.”
Gideon and I stumbled through the bracken, making our way back to the horses as stray bullets popped and zinged behind us. We gathered the horses’ reins and hurried to the stables. I unfastened my cloak as we stepped inside, and I led Gideon to a bale of hay. He plopped down, leaning back against a rough stable wall, gritting his teeth and trying his best not to let me see his pain. In the red light of Brigette’s Magic, his wound looked particularly fierce and gruesome. I plucked at the shoulder of his burnt and bloody shirt, but he brushed me off.
“Don’t worry about me, Evie. I’ll be fine.”
I growled at him. “Quit being so tough and let someone help you.”
Brigette glanced up from her place on the floor beside Niffin, who looked pale but alert. “Gideon, I can—”
“Save your Magic for her.” He jabbed his finger at me. “I’ll survive. Your job is to make sure Evie does too.”
Swallowing my protests and rude words about the fragility of his pride and ego, I refastened my Thunder Cloak and whispered the Magic word again. “Is Niffin stable for now?”
Brigette glanced at her patient, shoved her spectacles higher on her nose, and nodded.
“Then you and I need to get inside the house to check things out. When we come back, we’ll figure out the best way to proceed.”
