Lysander bounds toward me, whining softly and looking from me to the Shades. They’re coming toward us, swift gray shadows we can’t outrun.
But perhaps Lysander can.
Waiting until Meredy is distracted by her dagger again, I bash her on the temple. “I’m doing this for her own good,” I mutter to a growling Lysander. Then I throw Meredy’s limp form over the bear’s back. This time, it’s not Meredy commanding him to give me a ride, I realize as he lowers himself so I can climb on behind her. He’s trying to help me escape along with his master. That, or he knows he needs me to find the gate out of here.
The Shades spray sand everywhere as their skeletal feet hit the shore.
Lysander takes off in the direction I point. “Stay out of the water!” I yell as I hang on to his back with one hand and steadyMeredy with the other, keeping Vane’s cloak and mask tucked securely under one arm.
The spirits in the lake are so far gone, they don’t even notice our passing as we race along the shore, steps ahead of our pursuers.
The water becomes a blur as Lysander pushes himself to run harder.
The Shades’ rattling breaths ring in my ears.
Without Vane’s power compelling them, the monsters won’t leave the Deadlands. If we can just get to the gate, we’ll be safe. They might try to go after the spirits in the lake instead, but there’s no time to worry or feel guilty about that now.
The blue glow washes over Lysander’s fur, over Meredy’s pale face. Her eyes flutter open, widening with horror at the sight of whatever’s right behind me, whatever’s breathing frost down my neck.
Lysander jumps into the gate. Our hushed breaths fill the dark tunnel.
XXVII
By the time we’re through the gate, our feet steady on the cold, firm ground of our own world, Meredy is herself again—groggy and paler than usual, but not about to chase down any of the nearby squirrels or rabbits for an early meal.
Swathed in gray predawn light, we make our way straight to Abethell Castle’s stables, not bothering to stop back in our rooms, leaving Lysander waiting at the entrance. His hired thugs all dead or wounded, we might’ve ruined Hadrien’s plans for now, but we need to return to Grenwyr at once to learn what he’s planning next and where he’s hidden the king.
If we still have a king, and he isn’t already a monster.
Taking a deep breath, I shove the thought to the back of my mind, where it’ll have to stay for now. Buried, along with my grief for Master Cymbre. The one person I need most right now, who can never again tell me what to do or rush to my aid.
I’m on my own. I have to figure out a way to stop these attacks myself. And if I mess up, no one will swoop in to save me this time.
“I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” Meredy murmurs as she chooses a chestnut horse and slips into its stall. She spits. “I can still taste his blood.”
I’m halfway through saddling a white horse when a shadow blocks the torchlight, forcing me to pause and turn. Baroness Abethell, in a long robe and slippers, stands at the stall door, watching me with a frown. She must have entered the row of stalls from the far side, as there’s no way she could have marched past Lysander.
“There’s no time to explain,” I mutter as I tighten the horse’s girth and adjust the stirrups. “We’ll pay you back for the horses when we’re able.”
“Consider the horses another gift from the people of Elsinor,” the baroness says. “You killed a Shade for us, after all. No one in the castle will forget that anytime soon. But are you sure you have to leave like this?”
I blink at her.
“Why not stay for a nice breakfast before you go on your way? The cooks will have it ready in just a few hours.”
The baroness’s forced pleasantness reminds me of the day she took us on a tour of the surrounding valleys. Yesterday, I realize. Everything’s a blur without sleep. Still, there’s something off about the overly hospitable baroness, and I doubt my feelings would change even after a long nap.
“Why don’t you want us to leave?” I demand as I ready my horse.
But the baroness is staring at Meredy, and when she finally shifts her gaze to me, she looks just as stunned. “Is thatbloodon your faces, dears?” she stammers. “I can call a healer...”
“We’re leaving. Now,” I grit out, touching the hilt of my sword. I’m willing to bet I look as feral as Meredy did, with my bloodshot eyes and tangled hair. “There aren’t any more Shades coming for your people right now, if that’s what you’re worried about. But there will be if you don’t let us get back to Grenwyr to find and stop a madman.”
“A madman? What—?”
“Tell me why you don’t want us to leave!” I snap, cutting her off.
The baroness sucks in a breath and pales.
