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Tarek swallowed down the nervous lump building in his throat. Prince Issah’s intense stare pierced his already cracked heart and caused sweat to trickle down his back. Was he mad? Annoyed? What?
Most likely, he was disappointed. Tarek could handle just about anything but the disappointment.
“Sir? I-I’m sorry. I had to—”
“You didn’t think I would understand that, Son?” Issah motioned him to step closer. “I need you to break this lock. Then we’ll need to hurry. Unless...” his intense gaze locked on Tarek causing his knees to tremble. He wasn’t normally this apprehensive with people, but something about the prince intimidated him. And he didn’t know why. Issah had shown him nothing but kindness.
“Unless what, sir?”
“Unless you wish to remain here. Perhaps wait and see if she’ll change her mind. You are fully capable of taking care of yourself now that you’ve mastered control over your powers.”
That was true. Tarek had only been biding his time and had intended to blast his way out if the situation turned for the worse. “Will she? Vesia. Will she change her mind?”
“I’m not aware of that information, Tarek. She’s not of my kingdom.”
His answer hit Tarek in the gut. Not of his kingdom. She hadn’t believed Tarek. Ma’s stories were just that: stories. “Stand back, sir. I don’t suppose you have a dagger or something I can use? Sometimes it helps me keep control to have something in my hand.”
Issah turned and spoke over his shoulder. “May we borrow your dagger, Daughter?”
Tarek’s breath caught when Alyra stepped into the glow of the light sitting on the tip of Issah’s staff. She was as beautiful as he remembered. Her red hair tumbled down around her shoulders in long curls, the front braided into a circle around her head. But her glaring golden eyes didn’t seem nearly as pleased to see him as he was to see her.
He’d seriously messed up this time. Again. His shoulders sagged as he silently took the small knife she offered him.
“Where is your bag?” She asked.
He cast a wary glance at Issah. “Um, they took it. There wasn’t anything too important in my pack.” He patted the pouch hanging from his hip. “I keep my most treasured items on my person.”
“Wait.” Her brows furrowed in confusion. “I still don’t understand. How—?”
Issah answered for him. “He talked a friend into transporting him, one of the Logorians. He had claimed that he wished to travel to Denovo but at the last moment....”
“I changed my mind on the destination and ended up arriving right here in Conde. In the fountain, no less.” Tarek finished, avoiding Issah’s hard glare. “The town officials weren’t happy about my appearance, at all.”
“I’m sure they weren’t.” Issah concluded.
Alyra’s brows remained furrowed in question. “I didn’t even think that was possible.”
Issah’s lips pressed into a tight line and the incensed stare he shot at Tarek brought a sheepish cringe from him. Time to change the subject. He’d not been too sure himself until he tried it.
“Stand back,” Tarek warned again. He didn’t wish to get into all that right now. They did need to get out of there. What if Darnel received word he was being held? And now Alyra was here, too? He wanted to bang his head against the cell bars. He’d been so careless. And the displeased frown on her sweet lips told him she most likely agreed.
He lit up the blade and sliced it through the metal as if it were nothing more than warm butter. Issah pulled the door open. “Let us make haste, children. We need to return to the city gate and retrieve my helpers.”
Alyra’s eyes widened before she turned around and hurried down the tunnel. Issah asked her to wait while he caught up to her side. “Do not forget the guards. We’ll need to try to sneak around them once more.” When Tarek caught up to them Issah instructed, “You’ll need to place your hand on my shoulder. I need you both to maintain contact with me while I try to cloak us again. Let’s hope they’re not too accustomed to your scent, Tarek. We need to avoid any confrontations.”
“Issah?” Alyra grabbed the sleeve of his coat. “What about Ethan and Stitch? Are they all right?”
“Questions later, dear. Movement now. Let’s go.”
Tarek had no other choice but to follow along. Why had Issah brought so many with him? Ethan could wield a sword, but he was a Messenger. And Stitch could also fight, but troll’s breath, the razing he’d get from the centaur. Tarek didn’t even want to think about it. He tried to catch Alyra’s attention, but she refused to acknowledge him.
Issah stopped before the exit of the tunnel and extinguished the light on his staff. Holding it over their heads, he moved forward with Alyra’s hand on one shoulder, and Tarek’s on the other.
“Don’t break contact, children.”
They moved out into the evening. Tarek breathed in a deep breath of fresh air. He should have left as soon as Vesia turned her back on him the first time. Then Alyra and the others wouldn’t be here, risking themselves for his stubbornness.
“There’s tha smell again,” ground out a voice to Tarek’s left. He nearly tripped over Issah when the side of the mountain shifted and formed into a giant trollish creature. When the second revealed itself, his senses went into a frenzy.
“Tha’s a smell tha’ shouldn’t be here!” Roared the other, his tone growing to an earsplitting level. “Escaped! Tha prisoner escapes!”
Tarek couldn’t let them be captured. If Alyra were taken prisoner, Darnel would be here in a split second with his magical portal instruments. Gathering his energy, he released Issah and threw out his hands. Bolts of light shot out from his palms in a cyclone of brilliance. The beam hit the first troll and knocked him back against the side of the stone cliff.
That wasn’t what he’d expected. His illumination should have turned it to dust. He glanced at Alyra, but she was gone! Where had they gone?
The other creature lumbered forward. “I get ‘em!” It reached its long vine-line fingers toward him.
Tarek brandished the dagger, throwing his energy into the blade before he swept it in a sideways motion. The bolt of light slashed the troll’s arm off. An earsplitting screech came from the injured beast.
Another blast of light shot from the spot beside him, forming a glowing web that pinned the creatures to the side of the mountain. Alyra glared at him in the glow. “What are you doing? Issah said don’t let go!”
Issah appeared as he lowered his staff. He turned to Alyra and grabbed her arm. “Run. Take Tarek with you and run with all you have. Do not stop until you reach the pond where we arrived. Do not wait for Ethan and Stitch. I will take care of them. Go now!”
* * * *
Stitch had nothing to block the objects the irate people hurled at the Messenger. Ethan held up his pack, deflecting those aimed for his head.
“You’ve made a grievous choice serving this thieving forked-tongue miscreant!” Ethan bellowed over the shouts of the crowd. “I’ve seen the destruction he’s wreaked on innocents. I’ve stood in battle against his mutant army. Denovo defeated him, you can too.”
Stitch ducked as a stone sailed just inches past his ear. “Listen, buddy, I don’t think they’re listening. Maybe—”
“You think this comfort you enjoy now will last?” Ethan continued, ignoring Stitch’s tugs on his sleeve. “You are all delusional.”
A bright flash stopped everything. The crowd’s offended shouts. Ethan’s condemning tirade. And thankfully, the projectiles aimed at their heads. Stitch spun around toward the cliffs. Smoke rose in spirals. What had happened? Was Little Miss safe? Issah promised to keep her safe!
Now was their chance to escape, while the townsfolk’s attention was on the mysterious explosion. He grabbed Ethan’s arm and yanked him off the fountain wall. “We need to go. Now.”
“I will not abandon my post. These people need to hear the truth.”
“They don’t want to hear anything you have to say, Messenger. Let’s go!”
New cries arose from the mob. “They’ve tricked us. Capture them!”
Stitch glanced around nervously as several folks pointed accusing fingers toward them. “I don’t have enough arrows to fight them off. And I can’t throw up a shield like your sister. Let’s go!”
Before Ethan could make a move, a well-aimed stone hit the side of his head, and he crumpled to the ground.
“Oh no!” Stitch cried.
* * * *
Alyra raced toward the city square. She couldn’t leave Ethan and Stitch. Tarek would have to take care of himself. Anger and hurt over what he’d done clouded her vision as she raced along the narrow dirt streets, hoping she’d not get lost.
“Wait up, love! Where are you going?” Tarek panted from behind her.
Evidently, he was determined to keep up. Good, he’d caused enough trouble.
Up ahead, the town center finally came into view much to Alyra’s relief. The gate lay to the right. She searched through the clusters of people racing around in different directions.
Tarek finally caught up to her. “W-we need to g-get out of h-here. I-Issah said—”
“Like you ever listen to him!” Alyra spun to face him, her fist clenched. “Go on if you want. I’m not leaving without Ethan and Stitch.”
He took a step back, his emerald green eyes blinking a few times. “I get that you’re mad. But don’t accuse me of doing something you’re doing, too.” His finger jabbed her shoulder. “Issah said to not wait but to get out of town. We need to go, Alyra.”
Irritated at his rationale, she tried to swat his hand away but missed. Shooting him another furious glare, she quickly turned her back on him. Over by the fountain, she spotted the palomino centaur yelling at someone. The crowd closed in on him. Alyra gathered a ball of light into the palms of her hands.
“Alyra, no!”
With a grand sweep of her arm, she hurled the glowing orb like casting a net. It spread out and formed a shield over Stitch. Was that Ethan laying on the ground? Panicked, she took a step forward until arms wrapped around her waist.
The people cried out and turned their faces from the brilliant light.
“I told you to run!” Issah was at her side, his usually kind brown eyes burning with fury. “Take her. Head toward the cliffs across the valley. There’s a trail leading upward.” Issah grasped Tarek’s shoulder. “I mean you do not stop until you’ve reached the top and are no longer being pursued. Am I understood?” His voice vibrated down to her core.
They both nodded. Alyra, too dumbfounded over Issah’s furious words couldn’t get her feet to move. Tarek lifted her off the ground and started toward the gate until Alyra told him to put her down.
“I can run.” She shoved him away. Before they reached the gate, she dared one more glance over her shoulder. Issah headed toward Stitch and Ethan. The crowd turned on him with shouts and waving fists, and soon the prince was engulfed by the clamoring throng.
Tarek grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her through the stone archway. He refused to let go as they ran full speed toward the valley. Another look behind her revealed a crowd in pursuit. Alyra increased her speed until they were evenly matched and the distance between them and the next bluff narrowed.
“They’re on horses!” Alyra managed to warn. “They’re gaining...on us.”
* * * *
“Get up, oh, please get up!” Stitch yanked at Ethan’s arm, but he wasn’t responding. A stream of blood ran down the side of his head. “Oh Shaydon, don’t let him be dead. Please.”
From beside him, a voice said, “He’s not.” Issah lifted the unconscious boy and threw him over Stitch’s back. “I’ll open a passageway for you to escape. You need to run. Head for the cliffs. Find a place to hide until this situation calms. I’ll join you soon as I can.”
Stones continued to fly at them, but none met their mark. To Stitch’s surprise, most were deflected as if hitting an invisible barrier. Issah plunged his staff into the fountain. A stream of water shot up into the air. Fear-filled screams issued from the townsfolk.
Stitch covered his eyes against the blinding light that shone from the spiraling geyser. A hand smacked down on his rump shocking him to attention.
“Run. Go now, and fly as if a pack of wolves are on your tail.”
Stitch blinked and saw the opening Issah had promised. He didn’t need to be told a third time. Stomping his hooves into the hard ground, he tore through the opening. His bow slung right and left, smacking away any obstacle that dared to block his way. He’d had enough of this horrid town and wanted out. Right now.
The body slung over his back moved. Stitch feared the lad might fall off, so he slowed only a little. But Ethan must have regained consciousness. Grabbing a fistful of hair growing down Stitch’s back, he righted himself. Stitch gritted his teeth and hoped he’d not get half his mane ripped out.
Ethan managed to sit up. “Don’t slow, centaur. They’re right on your tail. Keep going. I’ll hang on.”
Stitch raced on. His hair would grow back. Eventually.
