Page 15

E lowen barreled into Vale’s back as he skidded to a stop in front of the dead end.

Vale dropped her hand, pulled a key out of his pocket, and thrust his arm into the greenery covering the wall. “It’s a door,” he said breathlessly.

He pushed, and the ivy ripped to reveal ancient stones and stairs descending into darkness. Suddenly, Vale grunted and fell over as if struck by something, tumbling through the doorway.

The guards had nearly reached them. Elowen moved onto the first step and pushed the door closed behind her, enveloping her and Vale in inky blackness.

Vale grunted somewhere ahead of—and below—her.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He mumbled an affirmative.

“I don’t know if I can hold this door against them,” she said.

“It seals itself,” he said.

She was already pushing against it with all her strength, but she shoved it a couple of times for good measure and then removed her hands. A faint scraping sound came from outside, as if the guards were banging their swords or daggers against the stones.

Elowen bunched up her skirts in one hand and placed the other on the rough stone wall. She inched her way down to Vale’s side on the steep, narrow stairs.

“Careful,” he spluttered, swatting at her skirts. “I’m right here.”

She crouched at his side. “What happened?”

“They threw a bola. It’s wrapped good and tight around my ankles.”

“A ... bola?”

“Here.” He guided her hands to his feet. “We won’t be going any farther until I can get this off. That door should hold them, but once they figure that out, they can run to the other end of the tunnel.”

She pulled off her gloves and felt something rope-like around his ankles. A gleam of light illuminated the space a second later, and she blinked to adjust to the sudden brightness.

Vale held a small bubble in his hand that flickered with candlelight inside it. “It’s a pixie trinket. We’ve got perhaps five minutes of light. Do you think you can get this off?”

The short rope was split into two at each end, each of the sections weighted with a leather ball. The whole mess was miserably tangled.

“Nasty little weapon,” Vale said, his fingers working madly to find a weakness in the rope. “Brought back by one of the soldiers last year. Not lethal, but quite effective for tripping up your target.”

It took her nearly all five minutes of the pixie’s bubble candle to loosen the bola enough to wiggle off one of Vale’s boots. Exasperated, she helped him free his foot. Vale tucked the weapon into his belt, slipped on his boot, and took her hand.

“Slowly,” he said.

She lifted her skirts free of her feet. As eager as she was to escape the castle, she’d never intended to travel in a ballgown and dainty shoes. They were nearly as impractical as being barefoot and wrapped in a billowing bed sheet.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Vale picked up speed until they were running. Or nearly running. The path was too narrow to allow passage side-by-side, so Vale pulled her along behind him as quickly as possible.

After perhaps another five minutes, he tripped and fell forward, losing his grip on her hand. “Found the stairs,” he grunted.

Elowen didn’t complain when he took her hand again, as if afraid to lose her in the dark, although it would have been easier if he hadn’t. She tried counting a few steps to distract herself, but gave up at twenty-five. Instead, she listened to Vale’s booted footfalls and her shuffling steps on the stones.

He stopped. “I think we’re here.” A key clicked in a lock, and then a sliver of moonlight illuminated the small landing. He gave her a quick nod of encouragement.

They emerged into a forest ... well outside the castle walls. Vale closed the door, which had been built into an enormously wide tree.

Shouts from the direction of the castle alerted them that their pursuers were not far away.

Vale grabbed her hand again. “Ash should be somewhere nearby.” He tried to rush them along, but the underbrush clawed at her skirts.

“Pardon the liberty.” He picked her up quickly but gently and laid her over his shoulder.

Thankful she hadn’t eaten much, Elowen was relieved to be moving faster despite the discomfort. Torch lights were gaining on them.

They didn’t have far to go. Vale put her down, and Ash rushed towards them. He wore a saddle with a pack secured behind it and a pack basket strapped to his chest. He dragged another bag, but when he saw the torches, he threw it into the shadows.

“Don’t we need that?” Vale said.

“We’ll manage,” Ash said. “Get on!”

Elowen struggled into the saddle with Vale’s help.

Two guards appeared, their torches illuminating the small clearing they all stood in. One guard shouted, “Stop in the name of the king!”

Vale removed the bola from his belt, whirled the tangled mess in a circle, and then let it loose at the guards. It collided with one of the torches, which fell to the ground with a burst of sparks.

Both guards drew their swords and advanced. They meant business.

“Get on!” Ash yelled. “Quickly!”

Vale climbed up behind Elowen and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She gripped a leather strap on the front of the saddle and leaned forward against the sloped pommel.

Ash roared.

Half the sound rattled through Elowen’s bones. If she hadn’t been holding on, she would have covered her ears.

A plume of fire followed the roar as Ash loosened a whirlwind of flames straight over his head. The guards shouted in dismay. He stepped away from the heat, turned on his tail, and leaped into the air, crashing through branches until they reached clear sky. He flew fast and high for several moments, and then he leveled off.

Elowen forced herself to breathe evenly. They were safe now, away from the castle and the king, finally on their way once again to rescue Cedar. Despite the cumbersome gown, which was every bit as inappropriate for flying as she’d thought, the saddle was an improvement. She could no longer feel Ash’s warmth in the same way that she had without it, but the seat was shaped for comfort, supporting her as she leaned forward and rested her elbows on convenient armrests while gripping the leather handle. Behind her, Vale seemed in no danger of falling off.

She ignored the cold wind on her arms as best she could. King Odolph had no dragons in residence to send in pursuit, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t call for some from elsewhere. When her teeth started chattering, Vale tried to chafe some warmth back into her chilled arms.

“We should get Ash to land soon,” he said.

She shook her head and spoke over her shoulder, hoping the wind would carry her words back to him. “I’m fine. We need to cover as much ground as we can while he’s a dragon.”

Vale didn’t argue and continued his efforts to keep her warm. After a couple of hours, he finally spoke up and told Ash that Elowen was freezing and needed a rest.

Ash landed in a small stream with a strip of gravel beach large enough to accommodate his wingspan. He walked a few yards into the woods to get the humans on dry ground and flopped onto the grass. Vale dismounted and helped Elowen, and they all unbuckled saddle and packs.

Elowen filled a waterskin at the stream. When she returned, Ash had a fire going and was stretching his wings and legs.

Vale looked at their supplies with a frown. “We needed that bag Ash threw into the trees.”

Ash shrugged. “There was no time to tie it down.”

“We’ve got two bedrolls but no tent,” Vale said, “only a little food, a change of clothes, and my sword.”

Elowen took the bundle of clothes he offered.

“You’re not concerned?” he asked.

“We’re no worse off than when I left home,” she said. When he didn’t seem reassured, she reminded herself that he was a prince, after all. A reluctant one, perhaps, but still used to everyday luxuries that he would consider necessities. “We’ll be all right. Ash can start fires in no time and help with hunting, if needed. I can forage and cook. There are plenty of streams for water.”

He relaxed enough to take his own clothes and venture into the shadows to change.

Ash planted himself between them, fanning his wings to act as a privacy screen.

Elowen struggled to get out of the ballgown on her own, realizing for the first time how useful a maid was for castle living. The gown was crinkled, the hem torn in a few places where it had snagged on the underbrush, but it was still wearable. Not that she would be attending any more balls. She pulled on a pair of soft, form-fitting trousers, thick socks and knee boots, and a creamy white blouse. A black, sleeveless overshirt went on top and fit almost like a corset. She shook out a knee-length jacket in pine green, slipped into it and buckled the wide belt, and finally stopped shivering.

At least the clothes hadn’t been left behind.

She ran her hand over the fabrics. Although less flamboyantly feminine than the ballgown, the garments were still cut to her form. Had these belonged to Briony, as well?

After carefully packing the gown, she sat in front of the fire on a log Ash had pulled over. She leaned against him and watched Vale stow away his own fine clothes. He was dressed in clothes similar to hers, but with more masculine tailoring and details, and his clothes looked like they’d been worn before. Especially the boots.

Vale sat beside her and smiled. He glanced away and then back, pressing his lips together like he might burst out laughing any moment.

“Something funny?” she said.

“I’ve never seen such well-traveled hairpins.” He picked one out of her hair and held it up.

Ash chuckled.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I must be a mess!” She put both hands to her head and found seven more hairpins. Vale pulled out another one, for a total of nine. She finger-combed her hair and smoothed it as best she could. The curls had long since fallen flat.

Vale smoothed down a piece she’d missed. “It suits you.”

She looked into his eyes, feeling the warmth of his leg next to hers. How could she breathe sitting next to someone who was looking at her like that?

What were they talking about?

Ash cleared his throat and said casually, “So ... now what?”

Vale chuckled and broke eye contact. “I haven’t the foggiest idea, but I’m up for anything.”

“I don’t suppose your weapon would be any help?” Ash gestured towards the sword propped against a bedroll.

“Not against a castle full of trolls. Probably not even against one, in my hands. I’m more interested in making than wielding weapons.”

“Then why did you have them pack it?” Ash asked.

“Same reason that you have teeth and talons. It can be useful, but I don’t intend to whack anyone with it. What about your flame?”

Ash grimaced. “Tri-Code.” He would never use his flame against anyone. It was the whole reason he’d run away from his kind.

“Exactly,” Vale said.

“We need a more subtle plan,” Elowen said. “First we have to find out if they even have Cedar in whatever passes for a castle to trolls. He could be out working their fields for all we know, which would make things a whole lot easier.” They needed a way to approach the trolls to get key information.

Suddenly, she remembered the golden feather, which had been left behind underneath her pillow. She had the inklings of a plan, but she didn’t want to put it into words until she was sure Ash’s golden goose form would molt more feathers. They all needed rest. She would tackle the problem in the morning.

Even without a tent, it was a much nicer outdoor sleeping arrangement than Elowen had experienced before. Certainly the lack of rain and mud helped. The bedroll turned out to be an animal hide sewn into a human-sized pocket with the fur turned inwards. She slid into hers with a sigh, relieved to finally be back where she needed to be. She glanced at Vale to find him watching her.

“Good night,” he mouthed silently.

Ash curled up between them, blocking her view. Elowen fell asleep faster than she had in the castle, lulled by the familiar sounds of the night forest and the comfort of friends by her side.