The Glass Arrow(92)

Brax begins to bark, a loud warning that ends in a snarl. Fear surges through me. I strain my eyes into the black, but see nothing. Then, Lorcan grabs my waist and hoists me up behind Daphne. One slap on the animal’s rump and we’re off, running full out through the forest.

It’s so dark, I can barely make out the trees as they whip by. Daphne ducks low to avoid the branches, and I cling to her body for dear life, the flex and pump of the horse’s muscles making it near impossible to keep my seat.

Shouts break through the rush of the wind in my ears, and I squeeze my heels harder into the horse’s ribs. The Trackers are close; I can almost feel their breath on my neck.

“Faster!” I urge, not just to Daphne, but to Kiran too, wherever he is. He must get the twins away. My mind turns to Lorcan, left behind with Brax, and I feel like a coward for leaving them, but I have to make sure the twins are safe.

A shot slaps through the trees, too far away to hit us. Another, this time closer. Guns. The telltale echo warns us an instant before the bullet whizzes past my thigh. A loud crack, and a bullet lodges into the trunk of a tree on our right, spraying splinters into my side.

Through it all, I hear the howl. Brax is close; he must be following us.

Daphne’s as low as she can get on the horse’s neck, and I’m pressed flush against her. I don’t turn back now. I can’t. The wind and the lowest branches catch my hair, ripping pieces away, searing me with fresh terror.

Crack! This one followed by a high-pitched yelp.

The cry sinks through right to my bones, and I can’t help it, I don’t even think about it.

I look back.

Just as I’m turning my head, the horse swings around a tree in our path. I slide off the side, Daphne’s cry in my ear. My fingers grasp for anything to right myself, fumbling over the thick wool saddle pad. Daphne grabs my knee just as the horse jumps over a fallen log. For one beat I’m flying, weightless and free. The darkness surrounds me. My arms spin like swinging ropes.

And then I crash.

I hit the log first. My hip connects hard, and the rotting wood collapses under my weight. I roll to a stop, my shirt twisted around my neck. The stars waver and grow dim.

My heart pounds, drowning out all other sounds.

The breath returns and with it, pain. It screams through my body like I’ve jumped into a fire.

“Clover! Aya!”

Who is that? Her voice is unclear. My mouth tastes like copper and my face is wet.

“Aya! Get up, get up!” Daphne’s looking down at me from atop the yellow horse. Foam drips from his muzzle as he chews the bit.

Brax. Panic makes me as strong as a Watcher. I leap to my feet, feeling my muscles flex. My eyes must be bleeding, because I see only red. I must go back for my wolf friend. I have to see what’s happened to him.

But I can’t.

I reach for Daphne’s outstretched hand and hoist my foot into the stirrup just as two more shots ring out.

A ferocious beast appears, black like the sky, fast as a hammer striking a nail. Its muscular chest rams into my body, sending me sprawling again. Its front hooves claw the sky. I scream, realizing I’m about to get trampled, and twist out of the way just as the hooves come down beside my head.

Another horse is coming. I feel the ground shaking with its approach. When I look over my shoulder, I see her. A chestnut mare with white rings around her eyes.

“No!” I shout.

Kiran’s come back for me. Alone.

The familiar twang of an arrow, and then the Tracker atop the black steed gives a muffled grunt and slides off the saddle, landing on the ground with the thud of dead weight. His horse bolts. From where I am, I can see the arrow rising from the right corner of the man’s chest, but when I look up, Kiran’s bow is still notched, and Daphne’s hands are empty. They’re both looking beyond me, and when I follow their line of sight I see another rider.

I jolt up, but stop myself from running when I see the long, dark jacket, stretching to the man’s knees, and the dirt-stained shirt peeking out from his collar.

Lorcan. He’s riding a Tracker’s horse. Before I can think of what this means, another yell comes from the woods. Lorcan turns in the saddle and releases a second arrow. Somewhere in the dark another Tracker falls.

Two, maybe three downed Trackers. All at Lorcan’s hand.

My father has saved us. Almost.

There’s one more. He’d been holding back, behind the other three. Now I see his light whipping away as he escapes towards Glasscaster. We have no time to wait. We must press on before he returns with more bounty hunters.

Lorcan nods at us then spins his horse around and tears after them.

Kiran dismounts and leaves Dell’s reins with Daphne as he approaches the body. He crouches, removing something from the dead man’s coat. As I move closer he crumbles it in his hands and rises to face me.

“You all right?” There’s something worrisome in his voice; it’s low and trembling, and when I’m close enough to look into his eyes I can see the fury there.

“The twins,” I say, grabbing his arms. “Where are they?”

“In a tree by the pond up ahead. They were well hidden before I turned back.”

Kiran doesn’t even attempt to block my path as I stare down at the face of the man who tried to trample me.

It’s Aran. His ferret face is frozen in shock. His silver hair is spread over the ground in long greasy points. I snatch what is in Kiran’s hand—a crumpled paper—and bite down on my bottom lip when I recognize my own face on the wanted poster.