the heavy bag before it struck him square in the face. The leather and mail together weighed nearly twenty pounds, and he fell backward to sprawl on the ground. “Ow!” Wiping his face, he found a red streak on the back of his hand. His nose was bleeding.
The look on her face said that she while she had acted on impulse, she hadn’t intended to have quite that effect, but she said nothing. Will got carefully to his feet and then shook the bag at her using one hand. “What the hell was that?” he demanded.
“It’s yours,” she said stubbornly. “I was giving it back.”
He drew back his arm as though he would throw it at her. “How about I return it the same way?”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Try me,” he growled, making as if he was about to do just that. Isabel turned and started to run, but he threw the heavy bag at her feet, causing her to trip and fall. Quick as a flash, he leapt after her before she could get back up. She beat at his hands where he held her dress, but he refused to let go. Shifting his grip, Will caught her shoulders and turned her over, pinning her down on the hard road.
She glared up at him, her eyes staring daggers of hate through him. Will froze. Their faces were only inches apart, and his anger was draining away. He could feel her breath against his lips, and he wanted to—a drop of blood dripped from his nose onto her cheek. Embarrassed, he sat up, pushing her away.
They studied each other silently for a minute, and then he noticed the scrapes on her arms. She had hurt herself during the fall. Will pointed with one finger. “Your arm—I’m sorry.”
“Your nose is worse,” she replied.
“No apology?”
Her expression was one of apology, but the words didn’t come out. “I can’t,” she said at last. “I was raised not to.”
Will used his sleeve to pinch his nose shut and tilted his head back. “Are you even human?” he asked with a nasal twang.
Isabel ignored his insult. “That’s the first time anyone has ever laid hands on me. You could die for that alone. Do you realize that?”
“Add it to the list of my crimes.”
She held up one hand, fingers outstretched, then began ticking them off, one by one. “Unlicensed wizardry, possible warlock, and assaulting a—” She paused briefly. “—a person of high station.”
“You forgot one,” said Will. “Aiding a fugitive.”
“A fugitive?”
“My grandfather was a wizard too,” he explained.
Isabel’s eyes grew curious. “You never told me his name.”
“No. I didn’t,” said Will, giving her a mock grin. “Just as you’ve never told me yours. Your real name.”
“Fair enough,” she replied. “Are you going to add desertion to the list?”
Will nodded. “I’m deserting Lord Nerrow, the army, and you. That’s why I’m not keeping the armor.” He noticed a fleeting look of pain as he said the last part. “But I’m not deserting Terabinia. I’m going back to do what I can, since it appears the country is about to deprive me of life and liberty anyway.”
Isabel pulled up her knees and settled her arms over them. “Do you have a plan?”
“A vague one,” he admitted.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to Barrowden.”
The look on her face clearly spelled out how stupid she thought that was. “You can’t get there. You’re going to desert the army only to run into the arms of the Patriarch’s forces. They’ll kill you.”
He didn’t say anything.
Her expression turned hopeful. “I could protect you.”
She’s daft, thought Will, but when he spoke he took a more direct approach. “I’m not your servant. I never will be.” No matter how much I might want to be.
“You’re determined to do this?” He nodded. “And you have a way to get there, some secret you haven’t shared?” He nodded again. “What will you do there?”
“Sneak into their camp and set fire to their supply warehouses.”
“You couldn’t get in,” she challenged.
Will lifted his chin. “I got into their camp before and slew their commander. I can do it again.”
“Another secret?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she went on. “If it’s some trick of wild magic like you used on that dying man, there are some things you should know. For a wizard, your magic is your life. Keep using it as you have been, and you’ll be dead in a few years.”
“I know that,” said Will. “But my grandfather was quite old. I think I’ll