Zach scowled. “Nothing that wasn’t true.”
“Oh, of course. You insulted them by saying they’d get in the way.”
His silence was all I needed.
“Sacred Sisters, you could’ve been a little more gracious. Was it as offensive as the way you acted with me yesterday?” I rubbed my forehead and sighed. “What is it with you and not accepting help?”
Zach twisted in his saddle and raised his eyebrows. “You’re one to talk, princess. Who was the one who went onto the battlefield by herself just a few days ago?”
“That’s not the same. Not accepting help when it is given and not having help offered is completely different.” I poked him hard in the arm. “Besides, I remember asking you to be my partner that morning, and you refused.”
That shut him up. All the way to the forest, the two of us brooded.
When we reached the tree line, we dismounted, and Lynel and his friends promised they’d watch the horses. We thanked them, then Bromley, Zach, and I started into the forest. The path was small and clear, and as the hour passed, the trees got thicker. The sun rose, but instead of getting lighter, it got darker, and there were no sounds of stirring animals. We were nearing the heart of the forest.
Zach cursed and muttered something under his breath, something that sounded like, “Nothing—there’s nothing. Why do princes sign up for this willingly?”
For a moment I thought his comment was in reference to the ever-growing darkness, but then I realized he meant his Sense. He wouldn’t be able to feel anything of the griffin or its nest.
But I could feel it. I could feel it twofold.
The sickness that only the proximity of the Dark Forces could bring made my knees weak and my head light, but my limbs were heavy as if shadows were crawling into my blood and weighing it down. Usually I hid the feeling fairly well, but I must have looked sicker than I imagined, because Zach gripped my upper arm.
His cheek was next to my ear, and his hand on my arm seemed bigger than I had imagined it would be. Not that I had done much imagining.
“Getting close?”
Instead of nodding, because the action would make my head ache, I said, “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you feel this bad when the griffin came up on us yesterday? Is it because of my Sense?” There was a twinge of anger in his voice—he really wasn’t going to let that go.
“Part of it. But the nest of a monster is the source of the Darkness that gathered there to create it. It’s stronger and heavier than the beast itself. It’s the origin of the curse that it was born from.” My brows pulled together in confusion as I regarded him. “Why don’t you know? Every Royal knows that.”
Zach shrugged as he pulled a branch away for me, his other hand still grasping my arm. “I didn’t spend my time in a classroom, learning like everyone else. Every waking second I was in battle training. You think I came out of the womb swinging a sword? I practiced, Ivy.”
“Never said you didn’t.” I stepped over a fallen branch to avoid the crunch of breaking wood.
Zach smiled. “Don’t think I’m a natural, then?”
“Never said that, either.”
“Then what do you think?”
“I think you have to be a born natural and have practiced day in and day out to be able to defeat my magic.”
“You think you’re that powerful, do you?”
“You would be, too, if you—”
Zach squeezed my arm and came to a halt, forcing me to stop. “Your face just got about five times paler. We’re almost there.”
He was right. It felt awful, like I needed to cough up whatever dark shadow had passed over my lungs.
Brom unhooked his crossbow from his back, and I followed his example, tugging on my wrist shield before drawing my sword.
Zach drew his sword, scanning the forest canopy. “What are you feeling? Where is it?”
I took a soft but labored breath and raised my arm to the north. “That way… Higher… More shadows.”
“About how long would you say we have before it knows we’re here?”
“I’m sure it already knows we’re close.” I gestured to Zach and then to myself. “It can smell our Royal blood. Neither of us has an advantage.”
Zach smirked. “Good. I like a level playing field.” He glanced back at Brom. “How good are you at climbing trees?”
Brom squared his shoulders. “I can manage.”
I raised an eyebrow at my page, but he just nodded. There weren’t a lot of trees on the castle grounds to practice climbing, but if Brom said he could do it, I trusted him.
“Move from tree to tree, shooting arrows. I want to see if we can get some clue to where the griffin could be,” Zach said, frowning up at the dense canopy. The foliage was so thick only pricks of sunshine sparkled like tiny stars. “Ivy and I will keep moving on the ground, maybe draw it out somehow. We sure as hell won’t be able to attack it in its nest.”
Without another word, already accepting Zach’s leadership, Brom started up the nearest tree. I watched wearily until he was halfway up before I turned to Zach. Just as he started to move northward, I grabbed his arm.
“Zach, we should Ki—”
“I said no. I’ve got a plan.”
I struggled not to raise my voice. To keep it calm, negotiable. “You’re taking unnecessary risks. We could kill this griffin easily, and you know it. This is foolishness.”
Obviously appealing to his logical side hadn’t worked. Maybe I needed to try a different tactic. Maybe appeal to a different side of him. A side where thoughts had nothing to do with it because it was all about contact.
I slid my hand up his arm, onto his shoulder, and leaned in to him.
He stiffened under my touch.
“I don’t want to fail before we destroy the egg. There’re too many people depending on this mission. On us.” At the last word, I pulled closer, my lips brushing his ear. If he turned his head even slightly our mouths would meet.
He jerked away, but not before I felt a shiver run through him.
Son of a witch.
“Zach, please. I need you to stay with me. I’m too—” The word weak caught in my throat. It was something I wasn’t used to admitting.
“Just stay back.” His voice was low, dangerous, and almost as dark as the creature we were about to face.
Then he disappeared into the dense growth.
I stood there for a moment then hurried after him, my voice louder than it should have been. “Zach—at least let me help. We can—”
Pain ripped through my abdomen, forcing me to stumble and catch myself.
I coughed and sucked in a breath. The scent of the forest was gone, replaced with the smell of death and decay. Above, there was a boom like muffled thunder of a distant storm. It held power and heavy, concentrated energy.
I looked up and there it was. The nest was a thick mass of swirling, smoky darkness. Rotting black branches and vines curled together to form a misshapen ball.
There was a shuffling above. Rustling of dried leaves, snapping of rotting bark, flapping of feathers. At that moment, Brom released an arrow. It sliced through tangles of thick foliage and lodged itself into the nest.
The griffin sprang from the nest in a swirl of inky smoke and copper feathers. Blackened branches fell to the forest floor as the beast dive-bombed, rocketing toward me like a shooting star across the leaf-strewn sky. It seemed bigger today, with glistening black-and-copper wings and fur, glowing red eyes, and a bronze beak open wide, shrieking its awful cry.
I barely had time to drop my sword and raise my shield with both arms before the griffin’s talons dug deep into my shield. Wood splinters, feathers, and leaves swirled in a mini-hurricane around me. My arm was sure to be ripped to shreds if the beak didn’t pierce my neck first. All I could do was defensive maneuvers, ducking and dodging away from the beak and daggerlike talons.