Shadow Magic (31 page)

“’Twas easy, child. I just watched your mother.”

Lily stifled a sudden spike of sadness. She’d relied so much on Mary her whole life and hadn’t really noticed. It was like air—you never think about it but need it more than anything. You only miss it when it’s gone. “You’ll take care of things here when I’m…when I’m not around?”

“What nonsense is that? I’m coming with you. Never heard anything so ridiculous.” She patted the ring of keys hanging from her belt. “It’ll be a relief not to carry these anymore. Let the steward run things from now on.”

Lily squeezed her nanny’s hand. “Thank you, Mary.”

Mary added a few more pins to the folds. “Heard a strange thing this morning. The guards were all in a flutter. About the sultan’s son.”

Lily put on her most nonchalant expression. “Oh?”

“He’s escaped.”

“Gosh,” said Lily. She glanced down at Mary and met a fierce, accusing gaze. She decided to inspect the ceiling. For cobwebs and such. “That
is
strange news. Look, I think the cleaner’s missed a bit.”

Mary continued. “Disappeared.
Poof
, like a cloud of smoke. The jailer’s beside himself. Swears he saw the young K’leef reading a book at midnight. Then, at dawn, he brings breakfast and the cell’s empty.”

“K’leef is a sorcerer. He might have used magic.”

“You know as well as anyone that the cells are barred with cold iron. No magic can get in or out.” Mary shrugged. “And he took Thorn with him. Thought you might want to know.”

“Really? Thorn and K’leef have left? That is news. To me. Because how would I know that? At all? I think it’s—
ow!
”

“Sorry, did I stab you with this little needle? Oh, dear. My eyesight isn’t what it used to be.”

“You’re a horrible old woman.”

Mary took out a small wooden amulet and dangled it in front of Lily’s nose. “Thorn left this behind. I wonder why.”

Lily laid it on her palm and drew her fingernail over the delicate acorn design. Thorn’s dad had made this. It was a single piece of wood, its surface oiled and shiny by constant touching. It meant everything to Thorn, and there was no way he would have forgotten it. She held it up. “Put it on me.”

“Lily…”

“Please, Mary.”

Lily lifted up her hair as Mary knotted the string. The amulet rested just below her neck, where everyone could see it. “I’m glad they got away,” she said.

Mary frowned. “It won’t do either of them any good. I saw Tyburn gallop off an hour ago.”

“He’ll have a hard time catching them. They had a night’s head start.” Lily paused. “That’s assuming they left around midnight. Not that I would know anything about that.”

“Those boys won’t get far, Lily. Them escaping like that only makes things worse.”

“I doubt it. K’leef’s due to be executed tomorrow, remember?”

Mary paled. “You’re right. Maybe they
will
get away. Let’s hope so.” She collected a fistful of pins from the dressing table. “Now turn around. We need to fasten your train and only have eight hours left to do it.”

“T
hat’s the third patrol in as many hours,” said K’leef. “Do you think they’re looking for us?”

“What kind of fool question is that?” Thorn answered. “Of course they are.”

“But you planned for that, right?”

Thorn twisted around. “How come it’s suddenly all up to me?”

“I’m a noble, Thorn. I delegate.”

“You mean pass the hard work down to us peasants?”

“Well…yes.”

They lay in a ditch thirty yards off the main road, eyes on the Black Guard horsemen galloping past. Thorn rested his chin on his fist as he watched the horses kick up leaves and mud in their haste and disappear around the bend.

“They’re headed south to reinforce the crossing points,” said K’leef. “How are we going to get out of Gehenna now?”

“I don’t know. Yet.” And why had he stolen Gabriel’s horse? The beast was so white it practically glowed. If any of the horsemen had even glanced to the right they’d have spotted it, standing among the trees and utterly failing to blend in with anything.

He’d stolen it to spite Gabriel. Which now seemed pretty stupid. He’d stolen Thunder to spite Tyburn. Which made him stupid twice over.

He glanced up through the canopy. The sun was out, rare enough here, and tipping over to the afternoon. Another two hours and the shadows would lengthen; another hour after that, darkness would hurry down out of the sky. Their head start had evaporated into nothing.

That was the problem with escaping at night. Sure, you could creep out without being seen, but you had to move slowly. Galloping through woods in the dark didn’t promise extra miles; it promised a stumble, fall, and broken neck.

“We need to venture farther into the woods. Stay away from the road.” He got up and brushed the leaves off his tunic.

“But that takes us farther from the crossing.” K’leef gathered his gear and remounted the white horse. “I studied the
maps
of Gehenna once. The only way across the river is Bone Bridge, and it’s at the end of this road.”

“And it will have fifty guards on it. No, we stay southbound and cross the river downstream. Either we find a boat or just wade across.”

K’leef shook his head vigorously. “I can’t wade across. What if I fall in?”

“So what? You just swim to the bank.”

“Swim? When would I have learned to swim? I grew up in the desert, Thorn.”

“You are not making this any easier.” Thorn mounted Thunder. He jerked the reins and faced into the deeper woods. “We’re wasting time.”

The ride took longer than Thorn had planned, and the sun was dipping behind the horizon by the time they reached River Styx.

K’leef sat on the white horse, staring at the churning white waters. “I’m not crossing that.”

“I’ll admit it is a
little
fast-flowing,” offered Thorn.

A tree trunk, ripped off the bank somewhere upstream, spun past and smashed against the rocks that jutted across the river’s width. The crack of the shattering wood was louder than mountain thunder.

K’leef gulped loudly, and his horse skittered back from the bank. Its eyes rolled with terror, and it pulled fiercely against its reins.

“That horse is just like Gabriel,” said Thorn. “Spoiled and a coward.”

K’leef managed to bring it under control and brought it next to Thunder. The black warhorse stood as immobile as rock on the river’s edge, but Thorn felt a tremor through his flanks. Thorn patted his neck. “You can swim that easy, can’t you?”

Thunder snorted. It sounded like a
maybe
.

K’leef searched along the bank. “Let’s try farther down. Maybe we can find a kindly fisherman with a boat. Or a couple of beautiful mermaids to carry us across.”

“We ain’t got time. Lily said the ship sails tonight. We’ve got two hours, maybe three, to get to Port Charon and find my dad.”

“If it
is
your dad.”

“It makes no difference. We cross here. Throw me your reins and I’ll wrap them around my saddle pommel. Thunder will lead. You just hang on.” He nudged Thunder forward. The horse hesitated, then slowly, carefully, picked his way down the bank.

The noise of the river was deafening. It shook Thorn’s bones, and the water was freezing cold. He gritted his teeth as Thunder sank in farther, down to his chest. Broken twigs and branches flew past, and the horse fought against the fury of the current and the uneven, stony riverbed. Thunder slipped and neighed as he struggled to regain his footing. Thorn gasped as water crashed over him. He shook it out of his eyes and panted. His fingers were locked around the reins. He looked back.

K’leef sat pale and terrified on the white horse that was tossing its head and tugging to break free. It bucked and K’leef bounced up and down on the saddle. Then he caught Thorn looking at him and gave a grin that did nothing to hide the terror in his eyes.

White foam blinded Thorn, but he reckoned they were about twenty yards across. Another fifty to go.

Maybe sixty.

“Thorn!”

K’leef’s shout came too late. The panicked white horse had pulled back hard on the reins. Thunder whinnied, slipped, and fell, taking Thorn under with him.

The water roared in Thorn’s ears. Its weight was crushing, and all he could do was grip Thunder’s saddle. His hands locked around the pommel as Thunder floundered. A branch whacked his back; Thorn gasped and swallowed water. The swift flow threatened to drag him off Thunder.

Thunder burst up through the surface, Thorn barely hanging on, coughing violently.

“Thorn! Help me!”

Soaked and bedraggled, Thorn swung around.

The white horse was swimming back toward the riverbank. Without K’leef.

Thorn heaved Thunder around as he spotted K’leef, spluttering and half-submerged, clinging to a rock. Blood ran down his face, and his fingers were slipping off the water-smoothed stone.

Thunder plowed into the worst of the rapids. Legs braced wide, he put his muscles and his warrior heart against the endless attack of the water. All Thorn could do was hang on, whispering encouragement. Thunder’s legs trembled with the effort, and they were still yards from K’leef.

Thorn looped the reins around his left hand and dropped off the saddle.

The force of the water threw him against K’leef’s rock. It knocked him this side and that, and Thorn felt his arm being torn out of its socket. He spread out his other arm as far as it would go. “Grab it!”

K’leef, worried about letting go of the rock, hesitated for just a moment before throwing his whole body toward Thorn. Even then their fingers barely met.

But that was enough. Fingers hooked together, then locked into a solid grasp.

Thunder didn’t need telling. The indomitable warhorse fought the raging river, dragging both boys closer and closer to the riverbank.

It seemed like forever, and just when Thorn thought he couldn’t hold on anymore, pebbles scraped his knees and he felt the relentless pressure of the water recede.

They were out. Back to the bank they’d started on.

All strength spent, they crawled out on their hands and knees. K’leef collapsed face-first into the ground with a long, pitiful moan. Thunder shook his mane and then sniffed at the grass and settled down for a snack.

Thorn wiped his face. They’d lost the white horse. He looked across the river. The bank opposite wasn’t that far away, but they couldn’t reach it.

He’d never get to Port Charon. They were trapped on this side and, sooner or later, they’d be caught by one of Tyburn’s patrols. His dad would take the ship south, unaware of the killers waiting for him back in Stour.

Once again, Thorn had failed.