Aerina latched onto him, and they were yanked away by the force of magic. Sy tossed them on soft ground, and he murmured a second spell. Ayellow hexagon with glowing runes blasted toward the carriage. It erupted with a deafeningboom, taking down the remaining soldiers.
Aerina shook against him with quiet sobs.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head but touched her stomach. “He … he cast a spell on me.” She cried harder.
Rawn’s eyes widened and a chill sank through him. “Did he…?”
Aerina shut her eyes. “I don’t know.”
He couldn’t think of anything else now but to get her to safety.
“We need go,” Rawn murmured as they sat up. He looked her over, brushing the hair from her face. “Are you all right? Can you stand?”
She nodded, and he helped her to her feet.
Nisa kicked up dirt with the jerk on the reins, bringing her horse to a halt in front of them. “We need to find high ground. It’s not safe here. Move?—”
It was the whistling he heard first. The high pitch cut of wind that he had heard before.
“Down!” Rawn shouted.
The black spear zipped through the trees with a crackle of orange magic. It pierced through his shoulder, and he hit the ground with Aerina. She cried out his name. He tried to move. His vision spun and his ears rang. He gripped the shaft of the spear, but it struck him with a spell. He couldn’t pull it out. Embossed on the socket was the sigil of a red maple leaf.
“Prince Anon,” Aerina gasped. She gaped up at an elf standing on the rise above them within the trees.
The morning sun glinted over his black armor, his red cape fluttering in the wind around his feet. He had short dark hair and dark eyes, a silver circlet on his forehead. Anon smiled at them, cold and sharp.
He lifted another black spear.
“Get down!” Rawn yanked Aerina to him.
The second spear came, and Nisa screamed.
She screamed so terribly, Rawn thought she had been hit.
A body dropped heavily on the ground beside him. He shut his eyes for a moment, gathering the courage to look. Lowenna. The beautiful beige horse lay dead with the spear through her neck.
His sister’s cry ripped through his ears as their bond broke. His vision welled as he felt her pain. Her loss.
And her rage.
Rawn desperately searched for Fair and shuddered with relief when he heard his horse’s neigh.
Anon’s laughter floated to them, and he darted into the trees. Any remaining Force Sentries followed. Good, they were retreating.
But his sister snarled and snatched up her fallen sword.
“Nisa!” Rawn desperately clutched her green cape. “Do not follow. It’s a trap.”
“I will not besmirch my honor by allowing him to escape,” Nisa said, her furious eyes blazing above him. “He owes me a life. If I do not return, you must take over the hunt. Slay him, Rawn. Even if it’s the last thing you do.”
She bolted into the forest.
“No, Nisa!” Rawn tried to get up, but the sharp stab of pain in his shoulder left him immobile. “Sy!”
“I’m here.” Sylar scrambled to him on his hands and knees. His wide eyes looked him over as he inspected the wound. “The spear missed anything vital, but I need to take it out. This is going to hurt.” He placed a thick piece of leather in Rawn’s mouth and Aerina’s small hand clutched his. Bracing, he inhaled a sharp breath. Sylar yanked it out. Rawn screamed through the tearing of his flesh, and the pain began to drag him under. “Take this, princess. Clean the wound and apply the waters,” Sylar instructed Aerina quickly as he handed her a glass bottle. Pale pink liquid sloshed inside, swirling with red petals.
