Criton had only just pulled the sky-net off Bandu and taken Hunter’s armor from her hands when the girl lurched to her feet, snatched the net away from him and threw it with all her might. “Now we go,” she said.
When they stumbled out of the mists, it was raining heavily. The wet forest and mossy stones welcomed them with a benevolent inertness – one that he had always taken for granted before. All around him, other bodies were crashing through the bushes, falling and springing up again – running for their lives.
“Find cover,” Hunter shouted. “They’re still coming!”
Criton and Bandu staggered forward together, collapsing at last behind a huge mossy cornerstone. Hopefully the fairies would not find them here. He wished he had a horse for them to ride away on – surely even a regular horse could outrun an exhausted elven one. He wondered what had happened to the horses they had left here.
The sun was just setting dull and gray behind the rainclouds when the captain and Raider Eleven rode out of the mists, holding their nets at their sides.
“Hurry,” said the captain. “We don’t have long before the sun here sets and the barrier closes again. Hurry! The prince will be furious if our quarry escapes.”
Raider Eleven nodded, her newly pale skin shining as if with the light of the unrisen moon. She whistled once, a low whistle that made Criton feel queasy.
“Come out, little ones,” she sang, her voice high and intoxicating. “Follow my voice, little things.”
They would not be able to resist her call for long, Criton knew. He could barely resist it, and the call wasn’t even directed at him. The children would come to her, and they would be eaten.
Suddenly, Narky came into view, leaping onto a rock with his hands outstretched before him. “I am a child strangler!” he shrieked, his voice cracking. His burnt out eye socket gaped menacingly in the semi-darkness while his good eye darted wildly about.
“Come out like the elf says,” he cried, “and let me get my hands around your little necks!”
The elves hissed furiously at Narky. He gave them a sarcastic salute. He certainly looked like a madman, but would the children be frightened enough to stay in hiding? They had been imprisoned with him for over a week, after all, and he hadn’t strangled any of them.
For now, no children emerged. Of course! The memory-boxes! Narky had figured that the children wouldn’t remember him at all, and that they would find his figure frightening. And so far, at least, he was right.
Raider Eleven made a frustrated sound and tucked her net under her left arm. She reached for the sickle that was slung over her back, but the captain stopped her.
“There’s no time,” she hissed. “Lure the children. I’ll deal with him.”
With an impossibly smooth motion, the captain retrieved her own sickle and spurred her horse toward Narky, who jumped down from his rock and tried to run away. Raider Eleven resumed her call for the children, but this time Hunter jumped up.
“I cut children to pieces!” he shouted, standing on the other side of the tower’s foundation. “Come out here and I’ll skewer you!”
With a grunt, the elven captain veered off and charged now at Hunter, allowing Narky to escape into the woods. Hunter also turned to run as the captain bore down on him, and once again Raider Eleven took up her song.
“Come to me, children!” she trilled, her voice sweet and ethereal.
With a silent prayer to God Most High, Criton shot into the air. “I come from the seed of dragons!” he shouted, breathing fire in all directions and turning the nearby raindrops to steam. “Come near me, and I’ll burn you!”
With a look of disgust, the fairy captain turned away from chasing Hunter and cast her net into the air. Criton had no chance to avoid it, but in the end he didn’t have to. The twinkling sky-net faded as it neared him, disappearing into the growing darkness. Both elves cried out in anguish. Their time was up. They turned their horses and galloped back through the misty gate. Within moments, they were gone.
Criton could hardly believe the islanders had won. As soon as he had touched down upon the earth again, he fell to his knees and kissed the muddy ground. He was safe. They were all safe.
The children, though, remained in hiding. “Rakon!” Criton called out. “Tella! We didn’t mean it – we’re not going to hurt you! You can come out now! Adla? Delika?”
“How do you know my name?” asked Delika, from the boughs of a tree. How had she managed to climb all the way up there?
“The fairy riders who were here just now stole your memories,” Phaedra said. “We’ve known you for over a week. We’re your friends.”
“I don’t know anyone like you people,” Delika insisted.
Phaedra winced. “Come down from there,” she pleaded, “and we’ll tell you all about it if you like.”
“Cold here,” Bandu whispered to Criton. “Make fire and they come.”
Criton nodded and went to recruit Hunter and Narky to help him gather firewood. It was all hopelessly wet, but they built a decent woodpile anyway, against one of the moss-covered building stones.
“All right,” Criton said, “now step back.”
When he breathed his flames onto the wood, he nearly choked on the smoke that billowed up from it. He took a step back, coughing. It took five attempts to get the fire started, and by then he was beginning to grow lightheaded. He sat down on a damp stone and put his head between his knees, while the fire crackled and hissed.
“Thanks,” said Hunter, clapping a hand on his back. “You don’t have to stay out here. It’s been a long day – get some rest.”
Criton nodded gratefully and rose, looking back for Bandu. As she had predicted, Phaedra was finding it much easier to coax the children out of hiding now that there was a welcoming fire for them to sit by. Bandu beckoned them over, pointing to the large tent that was, thankfully, still intact.
“When you are tired, sleep there. We find food tomorrow, after sleep.”
The next morning, Criton awoke to find Narky in the tent with him and Bandu curled up at their feet by the entrance. Bandu was still asleep too, so Criton rose quietly and tiptoed past the two of them to leave the tent. Hunter and Phaedra were already up, as were several of the children. They were dressing a deer to be roasted on the fire, while Phaedra’s elven horse stood nearby, placidly cropping the tall grasses among the ruins.
“Where was the horse?” Criton asked Phaedra. “I didn’t see it last night.”
Phaedra did not look up from her work. “I gave it a slap when I dismounted. I thought maybe the elves would follow its tracks instead of looking for us here. Hunter found it by the stream this morning, just standing there.”
Criton nodded, and helped them rebuild the fire. The rain had abated, though the sky remained uniformly gray. Criton doubted their clothes would dry today. The air was sticky.
When Narky came out for breakfast, Criton went back into the tent to see how Bandu was doing. The dress that had once belonged to Phaedra’s nursemaid hung strangely on her body now, still too big in the sleeves, yet growing tight around the belly. Her pregnancy was really starting to show.
Bandu was in a cheerful mood. “We are not with elves now,” she said happily.
She ate more breakfast than Criton would have believed possible. He did not blame her: the venison was heavenly. The others too were hardly shy filling their stomachs. Apparently, they had been living on mushrooms for days. Between the five islanders and eight children, they ate more than half the doe in one sitting.
When they could eat no more, they spoke of their next move. They were not well equipped for travel: they had only one horse, and no saddlebags. The woolen tents were too heavy to be carried easily on foot, so they would have to be left behind.
Then there was the problem of where to go. They could not travel far with all these children, at least not without more tents and horses. Even feeding them all would probably be difficult. Narky suggested that they find the nearest village and leave the children there. Naturally, his suggestion terrified the children. Terrifying them seemed to be Narky’s specialty.
Criton asked them where they all came from. They answered him all at once, but Phaedra helped to clarify since apparently she knew them fairly well at this point. As Criton had suspected, the fairies had gathered them from all over the continent. The twins were from Atuna. Adla and Temena hailed from some village near Ardis. Rakon was from Laarna. Caldra said she came from the mountains, but she could barely describe her home beyond that. Delika could only say that she lived in a forest village near a big river. Breaker was from Parakas.
Parakas. Criton had already told the others he wanted to go there; who could deny him now? Besides, it was closer than any of the other cities.
“If we go to Parakas first,” he suggested, “we can travel north along the coast from there, to Atuna and Laarna. There should be roads and inns along the coast. We won’t have to worry about tents.”
“I don’t know,” said Phaedra. “Do we even still have money?”
“We should,” Hunter said. “I didn’t leave it with the horses, so unless someone else has been here in the last week and a half, it should all still be in the tent where you three slept.”
“Really?” said Criton. “I didn’t notice it there.”
“What is wrong with all of you?” asked Narky, sounding nearly hysterical. “Last I heard, Mayar is still worshipped in Parakas. If Tarphae’s plague was His doing, we’ll be going straight to our deaths!”
“I’m not so sure anymore,” Phaedra said. “First off, we don’t know that it was Mayar who killed our people. Don’t forget that we sailed away from Tarphae in a boat. The Sea God could have drowned us, but He didn’t. The more I think about it, the more I think it must have been someone else.
“Even if it was Mayar, though, we will be in a less vulnerable place this time. Tarphae is an island, surrounded by His domain. Parakas is only a coastal city right on the edge of His territory, where His powers might come into conflict with others. So we have some protection there too.”
“And some of the Gods are protecting us,” Hunter added. “That’s what you told me in the mountains. They have a plan.”
“Yes,” Phaedra agreed, “though we’re not really in Ravennis’ territory over here, and He’s the one who seems to have been watching us most closely. On the other hand, we don’t know whether the God who cursed Tarphae cares that we’re still alive. The rumors in Atuna were that King Kestan is being punished by having to live out the rest of his life on an island of corpses. He probably didn’t know we made it off the island, so our deaths would have been no further punishment to him. We might be safe as long as we don’t try to go back.”
“Those are all great theories,” Narky admitted grudgingly, “but would you bet our lives on them?”
“These children deserve to be brought home,” Hunter said.
“Right,” said Criton.
And if their homes take us past a library full of dragon lore, all the better.