“We have to hurry,” I said.
“We can only go so fast,” Freya said. “And your magic is surely sufficient to deter any demon-hounds, as is my blade.”
“And we can always surround ourselves with salt if we need to,” Narcissa pointed out.
She was right, of course. But I still didn’t like knowing that the demon-hounds were out there. I felt exposed. “Everyone, just make sure to stay close.”
“Not a problem,” Auggie assured me. He prodded a sack of salt ahead of him that floated lazily over the ground. He sent nervous looks into the trees around us. Good. He should be frightened.
“You know, I feel like I’m on a flying carpet,” Therese said, throat bobbing excitedly from where she perched atop one of the bags.
Auggie gave the bag a nudge forward, and Therese squealed like it was some sort of thrill ride.
We passed beneath a canopy of dense foliage. “Do you see those pretty brown bats in the trees overhead?” Narcissa asked.
I squinted up into the trees but couldn’t pick out the bats from the darkness. I would need to take another draft of the potion to enhance my sight.
“They’re like little drumsticks, fluttering from one branch to another, and me, unable to eat them,” Narcissa lamented. “Listen to their cheer. They’re mocking me!” She paused to cough up another furball, her third on this stretch of our journey.
“I don’t think they have much meat on their bones,” Therese said, attempting to soothe Narcissa. “They would barely sate your appetite.”
Narcissa looked up. “Oh, you think so?”
“Absolutely. They’re not worth catching.”
“Very well.”
The forest parted ahead, and we all stilled as a clearing opened up in our path, lit sporadically by torches. It stretched on for several yards beneath the sky. Fully dark, hard-packed earth with patches of wild grass and long-dead tree stumps led to a stone wall fifteen feet high. The wall encompassed a large area, that of several city blocks. At each corner, sheltered platforms loomed high in the air, serving as watchtowers. The moment we stepped into the clearing, we would be spotted.
“How do we proceed?” Freya asked.
“What do you mean, how do we proceed?” Auggie asked, frowning. “We march up to their doors with the salt.”
I exchanged a look with Freya, who assessed the camp for another moment, before nodding to herself. “It won’t escape their notice that the salt bags are levitating. They’ll know straightaway that witches are among the party. We should demonstrate that we are no threat and walk slowly to the fence with arms held high.”
“Will they even listen to reason?” Narcissa asked, cocking her head. “If they’ve been terrorized by the Ember King for so long, why would they believe we don’t mean them harm?”
“I could go on alone,” Auggie suggested.
“No,” I said, too quickly. “They might mistake you for a witch. We’ll do as Freya suggests. If it comes to a fight, I’ll have a protection potion in hand that I can quickly throw over us. It’ll deflect any arrows, at least.” I glanced at Freya. “If they storm out of the gates, it won’t be much help though.”
Freya suggested, “Then I’ll fight them off while you escape. They will have the salt at their door. They’ll take it. Augustus’s quest will have been fulfilled.”
Auggie nodded slowly. “That’s true. As much as I would like to see Kingsbury, the main thing is that they have the salt.”
I sent him a look. If we’d come this far, he was going to get his look at the town. “All right, let’s do this, and hope they react like civilized people.” I stepped into the clearing, arms raised. I nudged a floating bag of salt ahead of me. When no arrows sailed through the air, I gained confidence and walked faster. I glanced back once to make sure the others were following my example. Narcissa kept her wings folded back against her body to make herself look like a normal black cat, while Freya had two of her arms hidden beneath her cloak. That was for the best.
It was clear from the noise behind the wall that we had attracted notice. People yelled and shouted orders. Their voices grew louder the closer we drew to a closed steel gate set into the wall. I noted the salt encircling the wall, a pitifully thin trail that looked weather-worn in places. When I stopped a dozen feet from the gate, a small iron covering slid open a peephole in one of the doors at eye level and revealed three pairs of eyes staring out at me expectantly.
“We heard you have need of salt,” Auggie said in a loud, clear voice. “We brought it so that you may remain protected from the Ember King.”
There seemed to be some sort of debate taking place behind the doors, and the iron suddenly slid shut across the small opening. We stood for a minute with bated breath. Freya might have to open a portal if things turned ugly fast. I wanted her to be prepared. She seemed to understand my look and gave one nearly imperceptible nod, before a loud screeching filled the air and the iron door slowly lifted ahead of us.
Auggie looked visibly relieved, but it was short-lived; the gate raised to reveal five men armed with pikes and morning stars, advancing on us, grim-faced. Behind this entourage was an elderly man in a dark blue robe and a beard that tufted low beneath his wrinkled chin. He considered us with cold blue eyes.
“What do you want in return?” the man asked.
I frowned. “Nothing. It’s yours.”
