Chapter Thirty-Three

By morning, Dorian’s fever had returned. He sat shivering as we urged him to eat. Taking the spare cloak from my bag, I wrapped it around his shoulders. It fit tight, but at least it’d keep him warm.

“We need to get moving again,” I said, worried about whether or not my brother would be able to travel. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He gave me a shaky smile. “I’ll be fine. The sooner we’re away from here, the better.”

Pudge shot me a concerned glance, and I shrugged. There wasn’t much choice. If we stayed, the earl would track us down. And I didn’t want to end up back in the dungeon. Because next time, I feared we wouldn’t escape.

Dorian stood, legs wobbling beneath him. He reached for a nearby tree to steady himself, then started to push his way through the overgrowth.

I stared after him, watching him stumble along. My eyes burned with tears to see him in pain. To see what the humans had done to him.

“You coming?” Dorian turned to look at me. “I mean, you’re supposed to be the fast one, right?” A half-hearted grin formed on his lips.

Clearing my throat, I grabbed my pack and followed after him. “At least your cockiness is still intact,” I said.

Pudge laughed beside me, whistling for Grr to hurry.

“If we’re going to make our meeting point, we’ll have to pick up the pace. Honour and the others were expecting us a few days ago. So I hope they waited.” He held a pine branch out of the way for me.

“I know.” I frowned, then whispered, “He can’t move any faster. I’m surprised he’s even walking right now.”

“Then I’ll carry him,” Pudge said.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to agree to that.”

And he didn’t.

We hiked through brambles, up hills, and across streams and rivers for several days. Dorian pushed himself to the point of exhaustion. At night, I’d clean his wounds and force him to eat before he fell into a fitful sleep. Then I’d spend the rest of the time staring at the rise and fall of his chest, making sure he breathed. He needed more help than I could give him.

So the next day, when the clearing came into view, I felt my body relax. We’d made it.

Pudge scanned the trees, then turned to me. “I don’t see Honour. Do you?” he asked.

Grr went still, his snout raised, sniffing the air. Then my gaze landed on a boot sticking out from behind a tree. I moved closer to find Captain Bushwell lying on the ground with a dagger in his chest. Oh, Hag.

Before I could react, an arrow whizzed through the trees, striking Dorian.

He collapsed to the ground, the sharpened wood protruding from his shoulder.

“No!” I shrieked, rushing to his side.

Blood seeped through the cloak, drenching the foliage beneath him. He groaned, his eyes wide with pain. We were supposed to be safe. We were supposed to go home.

I leaped to my feet, biting back tears as I dragged him behind a nearby fallen tree.

Grr launched himself into the brush, snarling. Then I saw Vane and Birdie’s brother, Barthe, and Cray with several other goblins. They’d ambushed us.

Barthe notched an arrow, and it struck Grr in the back. He whimpered, falling in a tangle of thorns. My chest constricted, anger searing through me like a hot poker.

I ripped my dagger from its scabbard and, with a snap of my wrist, sent it spiraling across the clearing. The blade stabbed into Barthe’s jugular. He wilted like a bloodred flower beside Vane.

“You’ll pay for that, halfer,” Vane shouted.

Unsheathing the Sword of Avarik, I rushed forward. “You’ve messed with the wrong goblin.”

Vane staggered back, then raised his own blade. The two came together like a clap of thunder. I brought my sword down, and he maneuvered his up to block.

I spun, jabbing and striking at him. He continued to defend himself, backing away until he was pressed against a wall of brambles. Hostility ran cold through my blood, and I swung my weapon once more.

But Vane ducked, rolling away from me. I anticipated his move, and with a quickness I didn’t know I possessed, I jumped through the air, coming down right on top of him. With my blade pointed toward the ground, I plunged it into his chest.

A look of surprise flashed on his face as he twisted with agony. “You,” he whispered.

“Yes. Me.” I glared. “I told you someday I’d take you down.”

A drop of blood slid from the corner of his mouth, and his head tipped to the side. He was gone.

Swords clanked together around me, bringing me back to the reality of the situation. I watched Pudge take out two more goblins. But there were another three prepared to attack. Not wanting them to run, Pudge and I circled them, swords held high. And with easy movements, we finished them off.

I stared in disbelief at the carnage. We’d killed goblins. Our own kind. Why were they fighting us? Putting my weapon away, I hurried to Captain Bushwell’s side, my eyes burning with angry tears.

His lids fluttered open. “Ivy, you’re here.”

I dropped down beside him, touching his face. “Sir, we’re going to get you out of here.”

He raised a bloodied hand to mine. “No, it’s too late for me. Get the prince to safety.”

“We can’t just leave you,” I cried, leaning down so my head touched his. This was my mentor; he was supposed to be invincible.

“You have to, Ivy. The corruption r-runs much deeper.” He coughed, sputtering blood onto his chin and tunic. Then he whispered “Wayfarer” before he went still.

Wayfarer?

My jaw clenched, and I spun around to face Pudge.

Pudge dropped his weapon to the ground, having heard Captain Bushwell. He kicked it out of the way, then fell to his knees.

“I swear to you, I had nothing to do with this.” He tugged at the sleeves of his tunic, revealing more markings from the Hag. “My loyalty is to you and to the Hag.”

“Your brother was the only other person who knew we’d be here. Just like he was there when the humans captured Dorian. And your father—he wasn’t allowed in the meeting when the king announced I’m his daughter. Not to mention I found the Hag’s Crest in his blasted room. I—I think that’s why Captain Bushwell stayed back. He knew something wasn’t right.”

Pudge paled. “Dragon’s breath,” he said. “Ivy, I didn’t know. I promise you. You mean more to me than anyone, and I’d never do anything to hurt you. But are you sure Honour had something to do with this?” He stood, eyes pleading with me.

“Captain Bushwell would not lie to me about something like this.”

“Then Honour will pay for this. You have my word.”

His words rang true. He had been the one constant in my life.

“I believe you,” I whispered, then bent to gather his sword. Swallowing hard, I handed it to him, and, after a moment, I moved to check on Dorian and Grr. “They’ve lost a lot of blood. We have to get help.”

“First, we should hide the bodies.” Pudge gestured to Vane and his fallen comrades. “The last thing we need is for Honour to know we’ve figured things out.”

“Fine. Toss them in the river.” I hoped the fish tore them to shreds. They didn’t deserve any better. Captain Bushwell did, but right now, I didn’t have time to bury him. I gave him a silent promise that I’d send someone back for his remains.

Once we finished discarding the corpses, I bandaged both Dorian and Grr while Pudge made makeshift stretchers out of sticks and blankets. We needed a healer. And there was only one place we’d find one.

“We have to take them to the elves. We’re too far from home, and if they don’t get help soon, they’ll die.” I lifted Grr’s heavy body onto the stretcher. “Dorian is promised to their princess; they’ll have to take him in.” Or so I hoped.