We take Halim’s shortcut, and almost make it completely around the enemy camp when we hear a loud, definite snap like twigs breaking under a foot. We slow and I make a full turn, unable to determine from which direction the sound came.
Reece stops next to me. “I don’t see anything. It could’ve been an animal.”
He barely gets the words out when a succession of arrows fly toward us. We hit the ground. When the area clears, I look at Reece, who’s got an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. With a throaty growl, he yanks it free and tosses it into the bushes.
“You okay?” I ask, amazed at how calmly he’s acting.
He pulls his hand away from his shoulder, where a hole the size of a nickel seeps blood. “I’m not dead. Well…not yet.”
I motion him my way, and as we zigzag through the woods, we hear footsteps behind us. We dive behind a cluster of trees and Reece winces. “I think it’s safe to say we’re not as clever as we thought.”
Heat builds in my bones, and I step out, sending fireballs into the men following us. I blast a huge tree and it explodes, sending chips of wood in every direction and fire into the air. I dive back behind the trees and hunker down next to Reece as arrows zip past. He looks from me to my hands. “Do your grandparents know you can do that?”
“Sort of, now hold on.” I grab him and send us up into the trees for cover. Arrows follow us. I hear the enemy calling to one another as they run toward the disaster I’ve caused. We have to leave before they organize themselves.
“Trust me?” I ask Reece.
He winces and nods past the pain. His shoulder is bleeding profusely, and it wouldn’t surprise me if it gets infected.
“Relax and let me do all the work.” The limb we’re situated on inches back, and when there’s enough tension, we shoot forward to the next tree. We land and are pitched immediately to the next tree and the next and the next.
At a safe distance, we drop back to the ground. Reece catches his breath, and all the color drains from his face. I’m not sure he knows he’s collapsed and is rocking back and forth as he holds his shoulder. Blood seeps past his fingers and stains the left side of his T-shirt a deep red.
“Dude.” I kneel in front of him and help him lie back. His eyes are glazed with pain and his breathing is shallow. “This is bad. I can help, but it’s not going to be pleasant.”
He grunts, closes his eyes, and stretches his T-shirt over his shoulder to expose the wound. I take that as an okay. The hole is ragged, sliced deeply into his muscle. I position myself in a way that braces my legs and weight on his body to keep him still. Then, just like I etched my name in the swing on grandma’s porch, I slowly run my finger along the wound, searing it as best I can.
The smell of burning flesh and blood permeates the air. Reece stiffens. His eyes roll back in his head. For a split second, I think he’s going to pass out. I pull away and he lets out a low deep growl.
I tear off his sleeve and make a rough bandage out of the stretchy cloth. “Can you keep going?”
“Yes.”
His short answer tells me two things. He’s tough and he’s determined. I pull him to his feet and we take off. Everywhere we turn there is some form of destruction. Fallen trees, razed homes, scorched fields.
Jason’s been busy acting out his dysfunctional issues.
When we finally approach the bridge, the area is crawling with soldiers.
I pull Reece down and he sags against a tree, his head in his hands. “Should have seen this coming, but I didn’t.”
“Why would they camp here? There’s nothing here for them.” And then I remember Halim pointing to the map and the thick line of black within the Unknown. “Jason. He’s going to unleash what’s in the Unknown. That has to be it.”
Reece rubs his face and stares up through the tree limbs. “What is his problem? I get that his dad is a piece of work, but that little prick is going above and beyond the tantrum stage.”
“I don’t know,” I lie. This isn’t the time or place to confess how I abandoned Jason, leaving him in a panic buried within a tangle of tree roots. Some friend I am. I took a perfectly decent guy and made him into a raging psychopath.
“Wait here.” I scooch on my belly to the edge of the clearing. My nose is full of the loamy smell of forest debris. I quickly do a head count. It isn’t as large a contingent as I first thought—more than twelve, less than twenty—and they’re heavily bogged down with setting up the tents and arranging all the gear of camp life. There’s no sign of Jason, but when I glance toward the bridge, I see something that has me squinting to be sure—Signe and Bodog sneaking toward the bridge. It’s only a matter of time before the soldiers see them.
I hustle back to Reece, and when he sees me, he pushes to his feet. “What?”
I must look as panicked as I feel. “She’s with Bodog and they’re going for the bridge.” We scramble back to the clearing and hide behind some trees. I point to where I saw them, and a few seconds later we see them dart between the trees.
Reece ducks back out of sight. “She’s going to get herself killed.”
“I’ll deal with the soldiers.” I motion toward his shoulder. “How do you feel?”
He tests its mobility and winces. “Been better, but I’ll manage.”
“Okay, then.” I’m not going to argue with him. “You run as fast as you can and get Signe.” I nod at the sword he’s carrying. “Tell me you know how to use that.”
“In theory.”
I sigh, not at all surprised. “Don’t use it unless you have to. And if you find yourself in trouble, give it to Bodog.”
“You’re kidding.” He acts like I just told him Bodog is my half brother I’ve had hidden Quasimodo-style until now.
All Reece knows is Bodog the whimpering little man. He hasn’t seen what I have. “I’m dead serious. He knows exactly how to use it.”
Reece reluctantly gives me his word, and I nod. “Good luck. On three.”
Reece crouches, and I feel my muscles tense, ready to spring into action. “One. Two. Three.”
We both shoot out of the trees. Reece’s arms pump and legs spin in a mad dash for Signe. I barge right into the camp, pull out my sword, and slice into the first man I see. I dodge, then turn back on the next guy, killing him with one blow. Dodge and strike. Kick, spin, and jab. I make my way through the camp like an angel of death until I’m standing amid a pile of bloodied and broken bodies.
When I turn to find Reece and Signe, I don’t see them. Only Bodog stands, leaning on the stick that holds the spirit of Faldon. My grandfather’s face appears in the wood, and the scratchy dry words that crawl from the wooden lips make me feel sick to my stomach. “You’ve become quite the expert at killing, Dylan. Well done.”
I storm over to Bodog and point my flaming sword at Faldon’s shrinking face. “I don’t enjoy it. Not like you.” Then I round on Bodog. “Where’d they go?”
He strokes the stick as if he’s consoling Faldon, and glares at me. I’m beginning to think he’s not going to tell me when he points a long, knobby finger toward the bridge.
It’s like someone punched me in the chest. They went into the Unknown. Without me. “How are they going to survive?”
Never Let Go
Time. It slipped along, sometimes quickly, sometimes excruciatingly slowly, dipping into day and night at will, without reason.
How long Kera floated in the black abyss, reaching for dreams she couldn’t catch, she had no way of knowing. But finally, a dream came near and she latched on, falling into it with a sigh of relief.
When she opened her eyes, she was immediately aware of two things. She was dressed in clothes from Dylan’s realm—jeans, T-shirt, and tennis shoes. No pinching corset or uncomfortable shoes. And she stood in Faldon’s kitchen beside the long oak table with his chemistry tubes and vials hissing and dripping away. A sense of home washed over her weary nerves.