Brom and I obeyed. Brom grasped his shield and withdrew his crossbow from his saddlebag. I grasped the hilt of my sword, missing my own shield thanks to the fight with the griffin and feeling naked without it.
We moved as quietly as possible through the forest. I listened hard, but more than anything, I felt. I dug deep into the reservoirs of my Royal magic and pushed out my Sense—reaching like arms into the trees around us. In the air there was nothing sinister, but perhaps… I pushed my Sense down, down to the forest floor, and it was then—to the east and moving steadily—I felt a dark presence.
“It’s in the growth.” I touched Zach’s elbow. “The grass.”
Zach swore. “Back on your horses.”
This time I didn’t obey, because Zach hadn’t moved.
For a second, I was tempted to mention the Kiss, but I knew by now that neither logic nor seduction worked on him. Instead of arguing, though, I needed to make him trust me more. But how?
By doing this his way. I just hoped it wouldn’t get us killed.
“And you?” I said.
“I can’t kill whatever it is on my horse, can I?” he snapped.
“Why do you think the responsibility falls on you alone?” I jabbed a finger toward his chest. “We’re here, too.” I gestured to Brom, who had remained on the ground with me.
Zach’s gaze shifted from me to Brom, as if he was considering our worth.
“Let us help fight. Or would you rather repeat the griffin incident?”
At last he met my eyes, and I could see I’d trapped him.
Before Zach could agree, the sound of shuffling through leaves and underbrush reached my ears. No, smoother than a shuffle. Like a slither.
“Serpents,” I whispered. Likely the same ones that had taken down the herd of red rowan deer—and now they were out for more blood.
At that, Zach hoisted me up onto my saddle faster than I would’ve thought possible and drew a second dagger from his belt.
The slithering grew louder, and each breath I took became more labored. Before I could shout a warning, something from the undergrowth launched itself into the air.
The serpent practically flew, propelling its long body toward me. It was a basilisk viper, known by the gray and green branch-like pattern of its scales and its pupil-free yellow eyes.
Zach was already there, twisting around like a snake himself, thrusting his dagger through a swift upward cut and lopping the viper’s head clean off. It fell to the earth and crumbled into dust as more slithering whispered through the forest.
Our horses tossed their heads, their hooves dancing in panic. “Any ideas?” I shouted. From the sound, it must be close to twenty vipers.
“Just cover me. Brom, give Ivy your shield and shoot anything in the grass that moves.”
As Brom tossed me his shield and loaded his crossbow, I pleaded with Zach. “Please, you need—”
“What I need”—he threw another dagger at the forest floor a few yards away, and a hiss escaped—“is a way to get rid of all the growth.”
The vipers were closing in, their hissing and slithering now at an impossible volume. Brom shot arrows at any rustle while Zach and I threw daggers, but it was impossible to tell if we hit anything.
Another basilisk rocketed through the air, and Zach threw his dagger, pinning the snake to a tree. Just as I flung another dagger, Lorena whinnied and reared up. It was all I could do to grip her sides tight enough not to fall from her back. The snakes were now at her hooves.
Or at least I thought they were. Not serpents, but flames, nipped at her hooves. Zach and Brom gave shouts of surprise and jumped from foot to foot, fire now spreading from their feet and burning the undergrowth to ash. It spread rapidly in a perfect circle, destroying all forms of plant life in its wake and leaving only the bare soil. And twenty angry basilisk vipers.
This couldn’t be a natural fire.
I turned in my saddle, looking for the source of magic. Surely it wasn’t Zach. He seemed just as surprised about the flames. Could it be from the same source as the griffin’s golden demise?
With all the grass and growth burned away, Zach whipped about like a leaf in the wind, slicing and throwing. I watched, open-mouthed, as bits of serpent were tossed into the air. Brom and I helped, but it was nothing compared to Zach’s intense killing spree. There were a couple of times when serpents had nearly gotten me, but Zach hacked them to bits.
Once the dust of the vipers’ corpses settled and the darkness lifted from my lungs, the forest was silent, interrupted only by a slight rustling. Where was it coming from? The ground had been scorched in a perfect circle around us.
Zach looked up, and I followed suit.
To the east, in a high brucel tree, was a young woman. She was crouched on a wide and sturdy-looking branch, half her body shielded by leaves and branches. She would have been well-hidden, but her vibrant blue robe gave her away.
For a few moments, no one moved or spoke. Zach glanced at me, and I mouthed, “Mage.”
She must be. With elemental magic like that—so controlled and precise.
“Greetings, lady,” Zach called, cupping a hand over his mouth. “Do we have you to thank for that magic?”
She straightened, the hem of her azure robe sweeping across the leaves and bark. Her hair was as black as a raven’s wing, falling in beautiful waves down to her elbows, and her skin as white as snow.
I felt a pang of envy. Even with her up in a tree I could see how flawless her skin was. Unlike mine, I thought irritably, always aware of my freckles, forever a mockery of my great ancestor’s beautiful skin. Something my mother never let me forget.
Seeing her there, with the light behind her and her dark hair a sharp contrast against the bright green leaves, reminded me of the stained glass depiction of Queen Myriana in the library. How similar they looked.
“Fantastic deduction, prince,” the mage said. “Did you also solve the mystery of why the world goes dark when the sun goes down?”
Zach threw back his head and laughed. It was the same easy laugh he’d given me the day in the village. Still chuckling, Zach hooked his daggers on his belt. “Fair enough, mage.”
At his carefree laughter, irritation squeezed the nerves in my neck, making my shoulders hunch. It wasn’t just that he was laughing so easily with this beautiful woman, but it was also irritation at myself for being annoyed to begin with.
“Who are you?” the woman asked.
I dismounted Lorena. “My name is Ivy Myriana, direct descendant of Queen Myriana and Royal Princess of the Legion of Myria.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, princess,” she said sharply, her head snapping from me back to Zach. “I was talking to the wraith disguised as a swordsman.”
Zach raised his eyebrows. “A wraith, eh? Is that a compliment?”
Ignoring his remark, I placed a hand on his shoulder. “This is my partner, Prince Zachariah of the kingdom of—”
The mage jumped from the tree, landing gracefully with leaves showering down around her. Placing her hands on her hips, she squinted at Zach. “You’re the Swordsman Prince from the West?”
Zach shrugged. “You were expecting someone taller, weren’t you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t mind him. A troll stepped on his head when he was a baby.”
The female mage just ignored us. “That can’t be,” she said. “I heard he doesn’t take partners. That he’s a prince without a princess.”
“Ah, well, this is a special arrangement.” Zach’s eyes lingered on me.
Special. I quickly looked away.
“Hmm,” was her only response.
There was an awkward pause between the four of us, and it was then, as I began looking all around, I noticed that something was missing.
Zach’s hand wrapped around my side, startling me with both its suddenness and intimacy. “Ivy? What is it? Do you feel okay?”
I shouldn’t have been pleased at the gentleness in his voice or the tenderness in his touch—but I couldn’t stop the smile.
Placing my hand over his, I squeezed his fingers. “I’m okay. Promise.” I shifted my gaze back to the mage, as Zach withdrew his arm. “I was just wondering… Where’s your master?”