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Elves scream as Ulfric and Halvor leap atop tables and let out bloodcurdling roars. Their tails twitch as they survey the startled thieves, and their muscular bodies are tensed and ready to pounce.

The leopards seem more than eager for a fight after their days of confinement on the ship.

Devlin arrives as well, yelling out a battle cry as he attacks the first man he spots.

“Go!” Maisel hollers at me. “We’ll hold them back.”

“There are too many—”

“Get out of here, Calendula!”

We have no choice. With the gnomes and their cats at our backs, we run.

“Where are we going?” Bartholomew asks as we flee down the shadowed boardwalk.

“Look for a boat,” Lawrence instructs.

Henrik pauses when a straggler catches up to us. The commander turns, dodging a fireball before he grabs the female High Vale’s arm. Without pause, Henrik twists it into an awkward angle, debilitating the elf, and then he tosses her into the marsh.

“Keep moving,” he commands.

Thankfully, the moons have risen, and their dappled light shines through the overhead canopy. It’s just enough to make out the walkways.

We’re nearing Caldwell’s paddle ship when an antlered figure appears ahead of us with a lantern.

“What’s going on?” Pranmore hollers. “I could hear the racket all the way at the ship.”

Lawrence comes to a stop when we reach two small boats that are each fitted with propulsion apparatuses. We’ll need them both—there’s only room for about four people in each one.

“Clover, get in,” Lawrence commands.

The prince is already unwinding the rope. Bartholomew drops to his knees, frantically working at the other.

“Don’t drop the rope,” Lawrence warns him. “If you do, we’ll lose the boat.”

“I know that,” Bartholomew snaps. “I’m not an idiot.”

Henrik is behind us, fighting with two more elves who managed to sneak past the gnomes and their leopards.

“Hurry up, Pranmore!” I yell, waving him forward.

His light bounces from side to side as he runs down the boardwalk. Breathless, he asks, “What happened—”

“No time. Get in.” I shove him into Lawrence’s boat. He stumbles as the vessel sways, and for one horrifying moment, I think he’s going to fall into the water.

He catches himself just in time and quickly sits on one of the narrow benches.

Ayan’s right behind him. I step into the other, trying not to think about how awful it would be to fall into the swamp as the boat rocks.

“Henrik!” I yell. “Come on!”

“You can play knight later,” Lawrence adds, grinning now that we’re just about free. “Leave the elves be.”

Henrik knocks out his last opponent and runs to us. Breathing hard, he grabs the rope from Bartholomew. “Get in.”

Inside the boat, I reach for Bartholomew’s arm, keeping him steady. Before he’s settled, Henrik pushes us away from the boardwalk and leaps in behind his squire. Lawrence does the same.

“How do you start this thing?” I ask frantically, staring at the device. “I can’t see!”