in the road, Merlin followed along as Owain and Dybris changed their direction.
“The magister’s wagon is here,” Owain said, “and Trevenna’s at the reins.”
With the shouting in the woods growing louder, they dashed toward her.
“Trevenna! We have the Stone!” Dybris called. “We need your wagon to take it away and destroy it.”
But Trevenna was weeping and didn’t seem to hear. Merlin looked back just as the torches of the druidow burst onto the track.
Dybris called once more. “Vortigern has slain the High King! We need your help.”
“Vortigern? Slain the —”
“Yes!”
“Take it. Go!”
They heaved the Stone into the back of the wagon, and Dybris climbed in after it.
Trevenna stepped down and stood helplessly on the side of the road.
“Come with us!” Owain implored as he helped Merlin clamber to the front seat.
“I follow my husband,” she said, and she walked off into the dark forest, away from the oncoming torches.
An arrow whizzed past Merlin’s ear as Owain turned the horses southward, then slapped the reins on their haunches. Off they bolted, but Dybris yelled as a druid grabbed the back of the wagon and pulled himself over the rail, clunking into the box.
“He has a knife.” Dybris called. “Do something!”
“Take the reins!” Merlin yelled.
“I’ve never driven horses!”
“Then here’s a blade. Take care of him.”
“Me?”
There was no more time for talk as the druid climbed forward and raised his flashing knife toward Owain’s back. Then the wagon hit a hole and lurched to the side. The long steel blade jabbed into the padded wooden seat.
Merlin smashed his elbow back and connected with the druid’s stomach while Dybris tried to wrest the knife from the man’s hand.
But the druid pulled free and raised his knife for another strike.
Owain leaned forward. “Get him!”
“God forgive me!” Dybris called as he plunged Merlin’s dirk into the druid, who screamed and fell backward onto the covered Stone.
The road snaked downhill, and Owain slowed the horses so they could manage the first curve. “Throw him out.”
Dybris hesitated. “I should help him.”
“We need to go faster,” Merlin said, for even with his weak eyesight, he could see the dark woods and hillside floating with scores of torches.
“Not fair … they’re not taking the road.”
Owain gave a short, dry laugh. “What’d you expect? Throw the druid out.”
Merlin climbed to the back and helped Dybris heft the body over the side of the wagon.
“Will we make it?” Merlin asked when he returned to the front.
Owain snapped the reins faster. “If we get to the bridge first. Do I smell smoke?”
At the back of the wagon, a sizzling sound rent the air. Merlin turned and saw the tunic covering the Stone catch fire.
“Y-mo!” Owain shouted and whipped the horses into a frenzy as they descended the hillside for the final run leading to the bridge. Smoke trailed behind, and more flames began to shoot from the Stone.
Merlin gripped the rail. “The wagon’s burning!”
“As long as we make it to the smithy.”
“The smithy?” Dybris asked.
“Where’d you think we were going? We’ve got to break the Stone.”
“But we’re —”
“Hold on, here comes the bridge!”
With a shock, the wagon hit the wooden planks and began vaulting over the bridge. Merlin’s head pounded as the ancient timbers groaned, and one of the wagon’s wooden rear wheels came down with a shattering crack.
The horses pulled the wagon beyond the bridge and a few paces more, but the wheel was broken and sent spokes and splinters flying. They tipped, and the horses plunged to a halt.
Behind them, the hillside swarmed with torches.
Natalenya thrashed the reins until Plewin moved again, as fast as she would go. Eastward Natalenya traveled until she rounded the bend toward the road that led to the ruined abbey. From there she descended toward the stream. Below her, the hillside across the valley was filled with torchlight.
She tightened her grip on the reins. She wanted to turn the wagon and go back, but Merlin was counting on her, so she flogged the mule until the wagon bumped down the slope.
Wait! Was that a bonfire on this side of the bridge? No, it can’t be! It was her father’s wagon on fire, and the horses were running off. Merlin and Dybris were waving at her.
But do they have the Stone? Yes! It was at the center of the flames, and the wagon was broken.
“Natalenya!” Merlin shouted as he and Dybris ripped a board from Tregeagle’s wagon. “We have to get the Stone into your wagon. Circle around and drive Plewin alongside.”
“Where’s Uther?” she called.
Merlin choked out