Spring (Evermore Academy #2) - Audrey Grey Page 0,130

hide our scent—and a wrist-mounted crossbow that comes with a sleeve of iron-tipped bolts.

To murder orcs and trolls with, obviously.

Mack chooses a sword and a magical torch that lights on command. Along with being greedy and stupid, orcs and trolls are supposed to be scared of fire.

Choices made, we leap to the other side. The stench hits me first. Sulfur, mud, and rot. Mack drags up the new map, and we quickly plan out the course before surging ahead. The giant oak and elm trees must have been glorious once, and a few still retain their vibrant array of golden and orange leaves.

Most, however, are in various stages of death, their beautiful foliage carpeting the forest floor in wet, decaying piles.

The troll musk was genius, and we manage to sneak nearly all the way to the second portal before our sweat washes the musk away. An orc bellows to my right, the sound coming from a mound of branches and leaves. The orc’s nest.

Falling into our positions, we slash and fight our way to safety. The dying forest fills with the sound of our classmates doing the same. We pass a few of them. Little by little, Mack and I gain ground until I spot the flickering gleam of the next portal through the underbrush.

There’s no doubt which season awaits us next. The flames of the portal are bright orange and a strong, hot wind blows from the other side.

“Summer Court.” I inhale deeply. “It smells like . . . smoke.”

“The burning savannah.” Mack takes a step back from the portal, brow furrowed.

Just like me, mud splatters her clothes, leaves and twigs caught in her hair. Dark, oily specks of orc blood fleck her face—but I don’t dare tell her.

“Is that as bad as it sounds?”

“The weather is hot, windy, and dry, and fire sprites inhabit the grasses, which means wildfires are a constant.”

I frown. “Is there any nearby water?”

“There’s ponds but—they’re spread out. I don’t see how those could help us.” The hesitation in her voice is alarming.

“Does anything else live in the grassland?”

“Rabbits, maybe a few griffins from the nearby forests. They hunt the rabbits.”

Griffins. I remember the last griffin. How it helped me.

She wipes at her face, unknowingly smearing the orc blood. “What are you thinking?”

“Mack, I’m going to ask you to do something that seems, well, suicidal.” Voices ring behind us, along with the bellow of an orc. We need to hurry. “But I promise, I’ll explain it all later, okay?”

She nods.

“We’re going to make the griffins carry us over the fires.” Ignoring her alarmed scoff, I press on. “We need a rope and a dagger each. Once your griffin grabs you, tie the rope to its ankle. When we’re over the water, we cut the ropes. Got it?”

To her credit, she only gapes at me for a few seconds. “How do we make them drop us over the water?”

“Just . . . trust me.”

She nods, if a bit tensely, and we grab our supplies and leap into the Summer Court portal.

The burning savannah is an endless swath of knee-high grasses that stretch across the gently rolling landscape. Smoke engulfs much of the air, and flames move across the hills at will.

What I think at first are sparks are actually fire sprites dancing above the inferno.

Mack checks the map. “There’s a body of water near the portal.”

“Any landmarks you can give me?” I ask.

She squints. “Looks like . . . an island in the middle.”

She shows me the image. Once I’m sure I have it committed to memory, I nod to the long rope coiled in her hand.

“This better work,” she whispers, quickly tying it around her waist.

Once my own rope is cinched around my stomach, I put my hands to my mouth. Mack looks at me funny as I perform the rabbit call, a trick learned hunting in the woods by our house.

Almost immediately, two shadows sweep across the burning grassland toward us.

Mack’s eyes squeeze shut. “Titania save us.”

I clench my dagger between my teeth, grab hold of my rope, and try not to panic as the sound of their huge wings pummeling the air grows louder.

A shadow falls over us. Mack shrieks as the first griffin grabs her by the shoulders and jerks her into the air. A half second later, my griffin strikes. Its claws catch in my uniform as it drags me into the sky like I weigh nothing.

The feel of the ground hurtling away from me is terrifying. My stomach flip-flops