An Artificial Night

“Away from here.” I didn’t know how I’d get him out without going through Blind Michael, but that could wait. He needed to be moving more than I needed to have a plan.

He looked at me warily, then slid his hand over mine, covering it to the wrist. The reality of what the Luidaeg had done was sinking in. How was I supposed to save the kids and defeat Blind Michael when I was just a kid myself? Raj was watching me with an anxious sort of trust. I sighed. Whether I stood a chance or not, I had to try. I hate being the last resort.

It took us longer to fight our way out of the woods than it had taken to enter; the branches snagged at our clothes, and the roots tangled around our feet until it seemed like the trees were actively working against us. But the candle was steady and blue, and I found that if I watched the flame rather than the landscape, I could walk without stumbling.

“You can get there and back by the candle’s light,” I murmured.

“What?” said Raj.

“Nothing. Just a rhyme.” A thin, steady light in the distance marked the edge of the trees. “It looks like we’re almost out.”

Raj tightened his grip on my hand, clinging to me like I was his only connection with home. Maybe I was; he didn’t exactly have any better options. “What comes next?”

“I don’t know.” I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring look. “I won’t leave you.”

I hate it when I lie by accident.

We stepped into the open, turning toward the mountains, and started to walk. Eventually, Raj let go of my hand, choosing to walk a foot or so ahead of me. Nothing disturbed us as we walked out across the plains, outside the range of any reasonable cover. There was nowhere left to hide when the flame of my candle suddenly flared upward, burning a bright, furious orange.

And the Huntsmen came. They boiled up out of the ground, surrounding us in an instant. There was no time to run and nowhere to run to; all we could do was stand our ground and wait to be taken. Their attention was fixed on Raj, but I didn’t expect that to last. I reached out and grabbed for his shoulder, even though I didn’t know what good it would do. It was instinctive. I suppose what happened next was instinctive, too. Cornered tigers will fight, after all.

Raj lunged for the nearest Huntsman, shifting into feline form in midair and going for the eyes. He was making himself a distraction. I had to admire the effort, even as I started after him, screaming, “Raj, no!”

Whatever illusion was protecting me wasn’t strong enough to hide me from my own stupidity. The nearest Huntsmen turned toward my voice, eyes wide and startled, like they were seeing me for the first time. The one Raj was lunging for swatted him away. He fell without a sound, landing in an unmoving heap as the others closed in on me, weapons drawn.

I was so busy watching their weapons that I never saw the one who hit me. There was a sudden, sharp pain in the back of my head, and I was falling again, back into mist and candlelit darkness. And there was nothing.





ELEVEN



I AWOKE FACEDOWN in the middle of a marble floor that had been white once, before it was buried under years of mud and gore. My head was throbbing in time to an unseen samba band. I took a brief mental census, confirming that my aching head was still attached to the rest of me before pushing myself upright.