My shoulders sagged when I saw him, then spotted Gwinifer, Cerridwen, and Finnegan leading the rest of the citizens out of the gates. Battle mages had formed two lines, securing a pathway toward the city.
I was almost inside the doors when I heard a sob. It was close, but not visible. Searching the gloom, I began descending the stairs, hoping the elven dust would work in my favour.
Along the castle walls, a brown-haired boy, likely seven or eight years old, lay face down, his legs caught in a tangle of roses. He sobbed, stretching a trembling hand toward the sharp greenery.
“Are you stuck?” I asked, kneeling in front of him, to draw his attention. “Let’s get you out, then we’ll find your mum, all right?”
He seemed to calm down at the mention of his mother, which helped me see what was holding him back. The thorns snagged on the fabric of his cloak and socks, mercifully not puncturing his skin, though they grazed my hands as I tried to shift the cloak.
“You’re almost free.” I stifled a hiss when a thorn sank deep into my palm.
“All right,” the boy whimpered.
Maybe it wasn’t even the thorns, but the utter darkness and screaming that terrified him. The rest of the cloak was finally free.
The boy slowly sat as I plucked the thorn from my palm. “I’m Jane. What’s your name?”
“Jack,” he answered.
“Nice to meet you, Jack. We’ll go find your parents, but it’s dark, so I’m going to ask you to hold my hand.” I extended one to him, and thankfully, he took it.
We returned to the front of the castle, the gloom too thick to ask him to find his parents in the crowd. No one seemed to be searching for a child.
“What are your parents’ names?” I asked.
“Daria and Onorio,” the boy murmured.
I recognised the names immediately. They belonged to the owners of the bakeshop. “Brilliant, Jack.”
Stepping deeper into the heart of the chaos, I searched for their familiar faces. Jack trembled beside me, his gaze locked on the glowing red eyes.
I knelt next to him, turning his back to the creatures. There was nothing I could do about the noise.
“I’ll put the hood over your head,” I whispered. “Don’t look there. Look at me.” I studied his reddened eyes, still glassy from tears. “Tell me,” I said gently. “Do you help your mum at her bakery?”
He nodded. “I do. But it isn’t a bakery. It’s a coffeehouse.”
“Ah,” I said with a small smile. “My mistake. And what sort of help do you give her?”
A memory flickered through my mind, one where I knelt in almost the same way, but it had been Joy in front of me.
Jack hesitated, then began talking about his mother.
The creatures were still trapped behind the ward, giving us time to move. I was considering taking him back to the Hall when a shadow surged before us.
“What are you doing?”
My heart lurched as I looked up, finding Reagan standing before us.
“Gods, you scared me,” I breathed, relief washing over me. “You warded the courtyard.”
Reagan’s eyes darted to the child pressing against my legs.
“He got lost,” I explained. “Jack is Daria and Onorio’s son, from The Wandering Cup.”
Reagan was breathing heavily, his face impossible to read in the dark. “I’ll take him, and you go inside now.” He crouched before I could so much as hesitate. “Hi, Jack. I’m Reagan.” The softest tone I’d ever heard him use. “Can I take you to your mum and dad?”
The boy glanced at me as I crouched. “You can trust him. He’ll bring you there quicker than me.”
