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“Where’s Ari?” whispered Zaf, beside Thorn.

One of the five people burst out of the group, running fast. His hood fell back, revealing a boy around Quicksilver’s age—fair skinned, black haired.

Emmi chased after him, threw a sloppy punch. The boy dodged her fist, dropped, and rolled. Two of the other soldiers tackled him to the ground. They wrenched dark cloth around his eyes and mouth, stifling his furious cries. A third soldier, brown skinned with short white hair, slowly scanned the forest, his sword drawn.

Quicksilver came up softly beside Thorn. Bear followed, his bright black eyes trained on the flattened boy.

“Ari’s the fellow on the ground,” said Quicksilver, her eyes blazing. “Your tracking skills came through after all, Bartos.”

Despite everything, Bartos looked ever so slightly pleased with himself. “All right,” he muttered, “here’s the plan. There aren’t many of them, but more might be on patrol. We’ll take a look, stay quiet, and once these four have made camp—”

Bear yelped in distress, cutting him off, and tore out into the forest, right for where Prince Ari lay in the dirt. Ari turned in the grip of his captors, called out Bear’s name.

Quicksilver shouted an angry command, but Bear ignored her, barking at Ari’s captors.

Thorn grinned. Here was her opportunity.

She twisted free of Zaf’s grip and took off after Bear. She heard Zaf call her name and kept running.

Sit around waiting for these soldiers to fall asleep? Andthenget Ari away? No.

Whatreallyneeded to happen was for these soldiers’ faces to be pounded into the ground. If they were dead, they couldn’t steal the glory that rightfully belonged to her.

With every running step, Thorn’s heart drummed a vicious song. The web inside her climbed merrily up her rib cage, tugged on the back of her tongue, whispered,Faster. Strike them. Hurt them.

Again, Thorn saw her hands around Emmi’s throat. Her fingers itched and curled.

Bear leaped onto one of the soldiers holding down Ari, knocking the man flat.

And Thorn flung her body against Emmi’s, grabbed the woman’s neck with both hands, and squeezed.

It felt good to pinch and twist Emmi’s tender neck flesh. It feltright.

She heard distant shouts and ignored them all. She squeezed and squeezed, and the web inside her whispered its congratulations. She had moved boldly, and swiftly, instead ofstanding there twisting her hands together, worrying and waiting and wondering, like Thorn of the past would have done.

Through a haze of fuzzy gray, Thorn watched Emmi’s face swelling red, then purple. She heard an ugly gagging noise.

A hand grabbed Thorn’s coat and yanked her loose.

Legs thrashing, Thorn fought to get free, but whoever had grabbed her pinned her arms to her sides.

A sharp cry:“Thorn!”

Zaf’s voice cut through Thorn’s thoughts and squashed the web flat.

She blinked, the storm in her eyes clearing.

Zaf, a few yards away, clung to Noro, her eyes wide with horror.

Bartos was helping Emmi sit up and breathe.

Thorn’s blood thumped dully in her ears. She looked around at all of them: Sly Boots. Noro and Zaf. The soldiers from the Vale. Ari, still on the ground, holding a whining Bear.

They all stared at Thorn with expressions that sent her stomach plunging.

Noro was the only one who didn’t look terrified of her. Instead he said firmly, “Thorn, listen to my voice. Look at me. You are Thorn Skystone of the Vale.”

“Are you going to fight me anymore?” asked the person holding Thorn close—Quicksilver, her voice thin and tense.