Rick didn’t wait for an answer. He headed through the doors, closing them quietly behind them. He needed to draw Alyse’s attention away from the prisoners, away from the other magicians. He wouldn’t use the camouflage spell now until necessary. He pulled his hood over most of his face, and pulled in his hands so not to reveal his true color. He wished for a black cape instead of his red one, yet this one was dragon-red, Nomi-red. Wearing it made him feel like the dragon and dragon princess were there with him.
Around every corner, every building, he expected to bump into the star-cloaked Alyse. She was there, somewhere. He felt her. He was sure she felt him as well. For a blink of an eye, Rick wished Thram was there, too. Thram would be able to detect where his mother was and be able to distract her. He would also probably die as a result.
He ran hard for his distraction, past a few bushy Spikonians who hardly glanced twice at the red streak. He was now set on what he would do. The armory. He would spin and cast every sword, dagger, ax, and lance into the ceiling and high into the walls. When those who came tried to enter at the noise, he would let loose the cry of a banshurebar to terrify them even more.
The Spikes were a superstitious lot. It would make for a great distraction. Yes, he will have brought his promised ghosts for Segan’s rescue after all. He only hoped it would be enough. He’d also pile the shields into a tower, set to crash on any trying to snatch one. Then, camouflaged, he would dart his way through the soldiers and through the city. By that time, the prisoners should be outside the city, and the rest of the Farhnerians escaping with them.
He’d only just started the weapons flying when someone opened the door. Rick sent three shields into the doorway, blocking the entrance. He crashed, clanged and clattered the weapons together before sending them deep into the ceiling and walls. Judging by the commotion outside, the escapees wouldn’t have enough time. The door shields shook. Rick released the cry of a banshurebar, startling even himself with the piercing sound. He nearly fell to the floor and covered his ears. Silence reigned when he finished, but even so, it wasn’t long before the banging on the door began again, as well as banging on the back and sides of the armory. The Spikes had proved braver than he’d anticipated. And he was surrounded. They were attempting to break in from all sides. He needed to give the prisoners more time.
He spotted an anvil and forge and straw and coal. He sang up hammers to pound the anvil and sparks flew. He sang louder and sparks arched onto the straw. He pulled the straw next to the wooden wall and let the banshurebar cry loose again. He hoped he could keep the Spikes out until the fire was going strongly, as long as he didn’t choke on the smoke himself.
Everything was silent now, both inside and out, except for the crackling of flames climbing the inside wall. He backed away from it, moved close to the door, covered his mouth and nose with his cape and waited.
Crash! The door shields gave way and two Spikonians tumbled in, crying out, “Fire!” as they coughed. Rick covered himself with the camouflage spell and slipped out of the armory, running as fast as he could towards the road to the Quits.
From high above the town came a scream. “No! They’re escaping! Stop them!”
It was Alyse’s voice.
The voice sounded like it came from a high tower, only there were no high towers in the city. Ricky kept running.
“Get them. Get them,” Alyse cried from somewhere, but she could be seen from nowhere. It didn’t really matter where she was, Rick realized, so long as the Queen’s Guard heard her, and obeyed her orders.
He caught up to the tail end of the escapees, with Bertran holding onto two of the weakest and urging on the ones in front of them. They weren’t far from the edge of town, but it seemed a great distance to go yet. Two men jumped out at them from either side.
“Stop!” Rick yelled at the four as he drew his sword. “You may not touch them.” Bertran hesitated and Rick shouted, “Keep going!” placed himself between the escaping prisoners and the enemy. “Do you know who I am?” Rick asked the Spikonians.
“You are a dead man,” one replied.
“It can’t be,” came a familiar voice. “I know who you are. You’re my best friend in the whole wide world, coming to rescue me.”
Rick glanced up at a second story window and saw Iggy, the miller’s son, leaning out so far that Rick thought he would tumble right out.
“I’m coming, Ricky. I’m coming,” Iggy said, and ducked back into the house.
Rick looked at the Spikonian and shrugged. There was no way he could leave his friend behind. His brother Victor would never forgive him. Neither would he forgive himself. Too many Farhnerians had already been lost because of delays. He wasn’t going to let Iggy be one of them.
The soldier facing Rick pulled out two swords from the sheaths on his back and came at Rick. From his practice fights with his Spikonian brother-in-law, Rick was able to block and dodge the first attack, but three other soldiers came at him, all armed.
“Rixete!” he shouted. The Spike attackers each dropped one of their swords, but then used two hands to keep hold of the remaining one.
“We are immune to magic.” A toothless Spike threw back his head and laughed. “She was right. We are immune to your spooky woo-woo.”
Iggy threw a tin plate from the doorway. It bounced off the laugher’s head. The guard narrowed his eyes at Iggy—who had more plates in his hands and obviously wasn’t afraid to use them.
Two soldiers ran towards Rick while the one closest to him took another swing.
“Rixete! Rixete! Rixete!” Rick yelled.
They paused, gripping their swords tighter. Iggy threw the last of his plates, and ducked into the house again. Rick held his ground. Four against one. Not terrific odds. He’d probably die here, but maybe this would give the escaping Farhnerians time to get away. As long as the Farhnerian soldiers protected the escapees, and the magicians worked their magic, there was hope.
From behind him came the sound of galloping hooves. He was getting surrounded. He realized in a flash that there was no hope for him, and Iggy would only survive if he hid in the house. Alyse would have commanded the soldiers to have no mercy, and to kill him along with all the magicians. It wasn’t the first time she’d killed magicians. Iggy was a lame boy, no danger to anyone, including himself, as long as he stayed hidden.
But Iggy appeared back outside with a new armload of pottery. A woman shouted from behind him and tried to wrap her hands around him. He slithered away from her clutches.
Just as the sound of hooves neared Rick, he took a knee and with a war cry, lifted his sword to block the expected downswing from the approaching horseman. The riderless pure white horse came to a stop at his side. It was not a horse.
“Neighbor!” Iggy cried from the doorway. “Good old Neighbor. I never thought I’d lay eyes on you again, girl. You’re looking whiter than I remember.” He hopped towards her.
At the sight of the war unicorn, the soldiers halted.
Ricky swung up onto Neighbor’s back, sheathed his sword, and pulled Iggy up behind him. Pottery cups crashed to the ground.
“The boy said, ‘Rixete’,” Neighbor said, aiming her horn threateningly at the men. Iggy tossed his remaining mug which hit a soldier on the arm, doing no damage.
Rick raised his hatchet, and he and Neighbor changed from two beings into the huge unicorn-warrior-man armed with a battle axe. Rick screamed a wordless battle cry to the sky. Iggy, still his regular size, screamed, too, but it was no battle cry. Two of the soldiers dropped their swords and ran. The other two charged.
Neighbor’s horn slid through the shoulder of one, and she flung him off. Rick’s battle axe smashed down on the head of the other. The two were alive, but weren’t rising anytime soon. The short-lived battle was over.
Rick and Neighbor both breathed heavily, expecting more soldiers to come at them. Iggy still screamed behind Rick, nearly as loud as a banshurebar. Neighbor pranced forward, and Rick checked between the buildings for more soldiers. Iggy finally shut up, but didn’t release his grip around Rick’s waist.
No one else showed themselves.
“We need to get to the others,” Rick said, Neighbor already spinning around as he spoke. They galloped down a dirt road and past shuttered windows, heading out of the city. Iggy slipped and slid behind Rick, first to one side, then the other.
The night seemed to be playing a trick on Rick’s eyes. He knew there was no wall around the city, yet there in front of them, blocking their way, was what looked like a wall. It grew taller the closer they got. Rick recognized it as a wall of thistles. He looked behind them. Many soldiers were coming now. They filled the entire width of the street, followed by more. In the midst of them, Alyse the Witch rode in a chariot. “Jump it,” he yelled.
“You are nothing but trouble,” Alyse said. It felt as though she’d whispered it in Rick’s ears, tickling his hair. She raised her staff, and a bolt of light hit a building on one side of them, then the other, narrowly missing them.
Neighbor gave a mighty leap over the newly formed wall. The sky exploded around them as Neighbor, Rick, and Iggy landed on the other side. They had made it, only slightly scorched from Alyse’s bolt of light.
Geoffrey and his men urged people away. It seemed as though everyone was together there, both rescuers and escapees.
“What happened back there?” Ricky asked Bertran.
“Apparently, the magicians abandoned the circling-the-city plan as soon as they spotted some Spikes coming out of the city, and so they started growing another nettle wall. It was contagious. Panicked magicians on either side of them joined in, and so on around the whole city. They allowed only enough nettle wall to let the prisoners through.”
Several of the former prisoners were by now doubled or tripled up on horseback or riding in the supply wagons. Rick galloped up the line.
“Victor!” Iggy cried as they passed his brother’s camp. Iggy tumbled off Neighbor and limped over to his brother who embraced him.
“Thank you,” Victor said.
Rick nodded. “I’ll check back later.”
King Segan rode beside Geoffrey.
“If you care for advice,” Neighbor told them, “I would suggest not returning to the Quits, as we do not know for certain how long the sleep spell will last. If they awaken, we’d be caught between the two Spikonian groups.”
“Where, then?” Geoffrey asked. “We can’t cross back into Farhner without a bridge.”
“Graelle said to go north,” Ricky put in.
“We are already north of Farhner,” King Segan said.
“Yes,” Neighbor agreed. “And City Brandt is too distant to reach.”
“She’s right,” Rick said. “The Spikes would catch us long before we reached there, and they could catch up to the others who split off from us. Even if Gaufrid and Jarvis made it all the way to City Brandt, the Spikes would demand King Perez give us up or go to war.”
“He would not go to war for you,” Neighbor said. There was a long pause. “Perhaps you should prepare to dig in and fight. If you choose a good defensive position, there is still hope.”
Even with the few Spike soldiers left in the city, vengeful Alyse was leading them. The nettle wall wouldn’t last long, even with the magic woven through it. Hope was not within their reach. They were going to be slaughtered.
“Graelle said to go north,” Rick repeated. North of Spikonia and Brandt was where Graelle had flown. North was where Graelle hinted other unicorns had gone centuries before, north and west.
“This is running from a fight,” Neighbor said.
“This is survival,” King Segan said.