“We’re too many! Too visible!” Samrael calls forward.
It’s true. In the darkness, Lucent and Riot are impossible to conceal, and Ruin’s bronze coat is hardly better. They’re homing beacons.
My earlier idea resurfaces. I make a snap decision. “Stop! Stop!”
They all react instantly.
Horses squeal and twist as they come to a halt, and shouts of surprise erupt around me.
Taking advantage of the commotion, I slip my knife from the side pocket of my backpack and hide it under my shirt.
“We can’t run. They’re all around us,” I say.
“We can’t fight, either,” Samrael says.
“Coward,” Gideon lashes at him. “We’re not lying down. We fight.”
“You’re hearing the scouts. There are scores more behind them.”
As they argue, I maneuver my horse closer to Samrael’s. Then I slip my feet out of the stirrups and count to three.
With a burst of strength, I pull my feet onto the saddle’s seat and push off, leaping onto Samrael’s horse. I land behind him and hook my arm around his neck.
Startled, his horse springs forward. I’m jolted back but I hold on, prepared for it. Then I lay the knife blade under his chin. “Don’t move.”
“I’m only steadying the horse,” he says.
“Daryn, what are you doing?” Gideon asks.
My hand holding the knife is shaking. I’m sure Samrael can tell. “I’m opening the portal.” I reach behind me with my free hand, into my backpack. “You guys need to go. You have to get out. I’m the only one who has to stay. Bas, I’ll stay to see if what you said is true.”
I don’t know why I don’t say what I mean specifically. I’ll stay to see if Samrael is worthy enough to be let out of here.
The words just don’t come out.
“How does that help?” Jode sounds desperate. Our situation is desperate. “You’ll still be in danger.”
Samrael is the one who answers. “One horse will be less visible than a cavalcade. I can hide one horse. We can evade them.”
“Two.” Gideon withdraws his sword with a hiss of metal. “I’m staying, too. Marcus, Jode—get Bas out of here. Go.”
This isn’t what I want, but I know I won’t change his mind. I don’t even have time to try.
“If you try to go through the portal,” I warn Samrael, pressing the blade harder against his neck, “you’ll make a killer out of me.”
I toss the orb into the air before I can think about what I just said.
Samrael’s back straightens as he sees it hovering there. The quest for the orb was an obsession for the Kindred last fall. It felled every one of its members except Samrael.
I open the portal, the process familiar now, instinctive.
The Harrows are so close I can feel the air trembling, the trees shuddering.
I glance at Sebastian. He watches the portal with reverence, relief already sparking in his eyes. This is his exit. His return home. But then he looks sharply at me. “We can’t leave you here.”
“Go, Bas. Go home,” Gideon says.
“You’ll give Samrael a fair chance?”
Bas asks me this, not Gideon.
“Yes. I promise I will.”
“Thank you,” Bas says. Then he turns to Samrael, emotion plain on his face.
It suddenly feels wrong holding the blade to Samrael’s throat. I withdraw it and slide it against his back.
“I’ll see you outside,” Bas says. He leads Shadow into the portal.
As he disappears inside, I gasp, caught up in a rush of feeling. He’s going home—it’s all I’ve wanted to see for months. But Shadow’s going with him, away from me. Her absence steals my strength. It makes all the bones in my body feel pliable.
“Go, Marcus,” Gideon says. Marcus looks like he’s not going anywhere. “I need you to go.” He looks at Jode. “Both of you. Now.”
Gideon is asking the world of them. He’s asking for everything. We all know what it feels like to leave a friend in here.
They turn their horses and enter. Jode and then Marcus. Both quickly swallowed by the tumult and chaos of the portal.
Gone.
I close the portal, swiftly re-forming it into the orb. Then I call it back to me, feeling the crackle of fading energy as it settles in my palm. As I slip it back into my pack, I see that the crack is more severe, almost cleaving the orb in two.
“Can we ride?”
Samrael’s voice pulls me back. “Yes. Go.”
Gideon stays with us as the gray builds speed. He keeps Riot nearly glued to our side.
I hold on tightly to Samrael because I have to, but I shiver at the life I feel through his shirt. He’s warm, muscular, normal—and a demon.
Dread screams through my mind as branches whip past us. I keep tensing, thinking I see the Harrows. I keep waiting for them to gush through the trees like a ragged black wave. I keep wondering what I’ve just done.
Why am I here? Has Samrael really changed?
Looking over, I catch Gideon’s eyes.
I didn’t want him to stay. That wasn’t part of my plan.
It should only be me.
CHAPTER 30
GIDEON
We can’t outrun them.
Can’t hide from them, either.
Samrael and Daryn could’ve, possibly, but concealment isn’t an option with Riot. I didn’t think this through—just reacted. But no way in hell was I leaving her in here alone.
I have no other choice. I have to take a stand. Buy time for Daryn to escape.
With my archenemy.
“Go, Daryn! Keep going!” Drawing my sword, I turn Riot and prepare for the first wave of attack.
The creatures descend immediately. Two of them. Frayed and bony. Galloping over dirt on hands and feet.
The first one leaps, giving me an easy target. I plunge my sword into its gut, withdrawing it quickly. It shrieks and tumbles to the ground. The second hesitates. It’s just enough time for Riot to throw a hoof. I hear a sickening crack and the Harrow goes down. In the next instant, it’s trampled.
“Gideon!”
Daryn and Samrael have stopped. “Daryn, go!”
Why?
Why did they stop rather than escape?
The answer is almost impossible to believe. Samrael wields a blade with speed I know all too well. Like Daryn, he’s fighting. To help me.
I see the Harrow before either of them do—a small one, streaking at them like a bullet. “Daryn—to your left!” I yell. But it jumps and latches onto Daryn, its cloak wrapping around her.
The horse rears as the Harrow pulls on Daryn. She clings to Samrael, screaming. He twists and buries the blade into the Harrow’s shoulder. It shrieks, tumbles off, and peels into the darkness, dragging something behind it.
“My backpack!” she yells. “Gideon—the orb!”
“Go! I’ll get it! Get out of here!” A band of Harrows stalks toward me. They come slowly, calculatingly. Not in their usual blind charge. I count a dozen, then stop counting.