The Hunter threw me to the ground, my face in the crumbling leaves beside the trail. I pushed myself to my knees, but a heel between my shoulder blades shoved me down.
“Curse it again and again,” the voice growled over me.
More footsteps as other Hunters joined us.
“She is untouchable,” said another, more human voice. But it didn’t comfort me. I could hear the growls threading their voices. And through it all was the panting, as if they were wolves just finished running.
My breath came in shallow gasps, fear so tight I could barely breathe, the boot on my back pressing my face into the leaves.
I began coughing, inhaling dust and crumbled leaves.
Hands pulled me up, but I remained doubled over, tears streaming down my cheeks as I gasped and coughed.
As soon as I could breathe, the Hunters tied my hands behind me. “March, Princess.”
They led me through the forest at a grueling pace, offering no help except to pull me to standing whenever I fell.
At first I looked for nettles, thinking I could dive into them. But the Hunters would not be fooled again and led me clear of the nettle patch I’d run through earlier. A stinging tingle had begun in my hands, though I couldn’t be sure whether that was from the nettles or the too-tight binding around my wrists.
A wisp of wind curled around me, and I looked up as if I could follow it out of the forest. The moon was rising. In two more nights, it would be full. The following morning, the six years would be completed.
I shuddered. That meant two days with the Queen.
She’d only needed one to destroy our lives.
I stared at the moon, willing it to grow fuller as I walked. I needed my brothers!
I couldn’t face the Queen alone.
What evil would she work this time? I stumbled to a stop, paralyzed.
“Move!” growled a Hunter.
I couldn’t. Breathe . . . breathe.
A shove from behind. So vicious that I stumbled forward.
Run.
It was as if every prayer I’d sent out into the night had been gathered up—image by image—and this was the reply. It wasn’t till the Hunter shoved me again that I understood the command: Run toward the Queen.
No. I shook my head. I can’t. I’ll fail. I’ll fail and they’ll all die.
It’s time. Run toward her.
I waited for the fear to break, for my terror to ease. It did not.
Run!
I took one step. The fear didn’t break, but it did not grow stronger.
Another step.
Another.
You are that turning point, Ryn. I knew it the moment I saw you. You will turn this story.
And then I was striding toward the castle, walking so fast that the fear couldn’t catch me. I looked up at the moon and felt the anger wax inside me.
I’d run from her for six years. I’d taught Carrick to run. And that would have been fine if my own heart hadn’t been fleeing. I’d run once more, but this time I would meet the Queen, not flee her.
She would not hurt my brothers or take Carrick.