“I said don’t move,” I snap, holding out a hand. Farkolf ceases all movement. He has no idea that I cannot summon the spirits in this way. But none of them really comprehend how my relationship with the spirits does and does not work. So I keep the charade. “Here are your choices, Farkolf: You are either going to start running and leave Den as fast as you can. You won’t look back and you won’t be seen. You’re going to leave the lands of the lykin for good—or at least until a new king wears the fang crown—and seek refuge with the elves, or fae, or even across the Fade, if you can make it.
“Or you’re going to stand here and die,” I finish simply, my gamble made. He’s young, which means he’s spent all his life under Conri’s rule. But he’s also young enough that he probably hasn’t been a knight for very long. Perhaps he has yet to be fully brainwashed by Conri’s efforts. Maybe he hasn’t even taken theoaths yet that give him access to the charm, as I certainly haven’t sensed any magic around him.
Farkolf opens and closes his mouth. His brow furrows, relaxes, and then furrows again. When Farkolf looks in Aurora’s direction, she takes a step closer to me, as if to emphasize that this is her choice as well.
“Could I…simply stand here and say nothing?” he whispers meekly.
“We can’t risk that.” I glance over his shoulder, making sure there’s no movement in the hall. “What’s your choice?”
“I—I don’t want to die.” He really thinks me capable of killing him in cold blood like this. Ending Bardulf continues to yield unexpected benefits.
“Then you’d better get to running,” I say, my hand almost trembling from the anxiousness I’m bottling. Farkolf goes to leave, but I stop him for one more remark. “No one can see you. No one can ever know.”
“If anyone sees me again, I suspect I’m dead,” he says softly. His gaze darts between us. “Though, I suspect if I stayed, I would’ve been anyway. One way or another.”
I lower my hand and nod. Farkolf returns the gesture and then darts between the trees. He goes from man to wolf in an instant. Racing away. Consumed entirely by the thick, silvery trees of the grove.
“Was that wise?” Aurora asks uncertainly.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I know that it will be easier to live with myself—however much longer that is—knowing that I gave him a chance.”
“How did you know he would listen?”
“I didn’t. He seemed earnest, decent, and I hoped those traits would win out.” I look at where Farkolf ran off. He headed north, into the cold and barren wastes past the edge of Den. Evander told me we couldn’t go that way when we were makingour plans in the grove because it was too harsh. But perhaps it’ll be different for a lykin. I hope. But that’s all the thoughts I can spare on Farkolf; the rest is up to him now. I turn to Aurora. “Are you ready?”
She looks once more into the dark hallway of Den, and then down to the grove.
“Aurora?” I probe gently. I can’t rightly rush her when I also spent time on something for me.
“That was where Bewulf and I met,” she whispers. There’s a tiny smile on her face, but her eyes are filled with nearly overflowing sorrow. “It’s where we wed and where I thought…” Aurora shakes her head and when she looks back to me, it’s with a steely resolve. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
I take her hand in mine and the two of us start between the trees. I set a swift but not careless pace as we run westward toward the great lake and the freedom and safety that lie far beyond.
CHAPTER 42
We cannot outrun the lykin,so we must outsmart them. The moment Conri finds out we’re gone, he’s going to throw the entire might of the pack into finding us. So the first thing we must do is use the head start Evander is affording us to our advantage. We move quickly and stay out of sight—give them no reason to suspect us being out of place.
But our lead won’t be enough alone. We have…half of an hour? An hour at most. Even without the time spent to save Farkolf, it wouldn’t be enough. Conri will be able to make up for that gap in a third of the time. We have to do more.
I pull us behind a tree, both our chests heaving, and glance around. We’re running in a wide arc around the camp of Den and haven’t seen any sign of lykin coming out this far. But I know they’re there. Conri’s patrols around Den will only be waylaid by Evander for a short amount of time.
One hand holding Aurora, I grab with the other for a small embroidering of a tree on my cape. I close my eyes, squeezing both and sinking our magic deep into the earth. I hope she’s had enough time to recover…
“Brundil, I beckon you. Come forth and lend us your aid,” I say softly, curling my toes into the soles of my shoes as though they could sink into the soft soil underneath my boots.
The spirit of earth buds from the thick carpet of shining leaves. Tiny silver tendrils, like roots made of thread, grow in reverse—into the air, rather than the ground. Thousands of them weave and knot together. Thousands more stretch upward, looping and swirling. They take the shape of a living mass. A humanoid tree of silver and magic with wings like sapling boughs and horns of pure crystal.
“I was beginning to wonder if you would call again,” Brundil says in her soft, rustling voice.
“I wanted you to save your strength for when the time was right,” I say.
Brundil’s head turns from me to Aurora. “My friend, are you certain of this path?”
“Only if you are the one to help lay it for me,” Aurora says.
“We need to get to the great lake.” I keep focused. It’s too late now to go back. “If you can, clear the path ahead so we can move without any hindrances. And, when we are gone, churn the earth behind us to hide our scent.”
“IfI can,” Brundil repeats with a scoff. “Remember to whom you speak.” Brundil pauses, and contradicts herself slightly when she adds, “Though, to clear your scent from the air, you would need to speak with Zeeb.”
