you?”
The helmet swung toward me. “You’re it,” he repeated, sounding somewhat unsure.
“You said that already.” I tried to ignore the Riders circling us. My small, screaming urge toward self-preservation wasn’t making it easy. Everyone has a little voice that tells them when they’re doing something stupid. I’ve gotten very good at ignoring mine over the years. Spike’s hissing was harder to ignore. Well, Spike could take care of itself. “So what now? Are we supposed to start hunting you? If that’s the case, I want your horse. My feet are tired.”
“What are you doing?” hissed Quentin. “Stop teasing them and run! I’ll hold them off!”
“Sorry, but no,” I said. If I was going to die, I wasn’t going to do it cringing. Not in the middle of my most spectacular failure yet. “You couldn’t hold off my cats. What the hell are you doing coming here unarmed, anyway?”
“But—”
“No buts. Here.” I turned, pressing my candle into his hands. The Riders saw him when he wasn’t the one holding it. Hopefully, this could change the game. “Hold this for me, okay?”
“What are you—”
“You can get there and back by the light of the candle. Remember that.” The Riders had shifted focus, becoming less concerned with Quentin and more interested in Spike and me. The candle was working, thank Oberon. “Well, boys? Are we gonna party or what?”
“You will come with us,” their spokesman rumbled.
“That’s a good line. I’ll have to remember that.” I had them confused; they weren’t used to having children talk back without tears. I might be able to get past them if I ran now. That wouldn’t help Quentin unless I could count on the candle, and I had to be able to count on the candle. If he didn’t move, he should be all right.
“One more thing,” I said, trying to project a bravado I didn’t feel. The Rider leaned forward, and I bolted, running for the gap between the two nearest Riders as fast as I could. They turned, but not fast enough to stop me; they were used to defiance, not actual, coherent thought. I shoved past their horses and ran for the forest, not looking back. If I could reach the woods, I might survive. If I survived, there was a chance. If there was a chance, everything could still come out okay.
The hoofbeats began almost immediately. It sounded like they were all following. Good. That would give Quentin time to get away and finish what I’d started. He was a smart kid, and he did well in Tamed Lightning, and he could do it, if he was clever. He could get out. You can get there and back by the light of a candle, after all. The first spear thudded into the dust a few feet in front of me. I stumbled but kept running, forcing myself toward the forest. Blind Michael probably wanted me alive but that wouldn’t stop them from hurting me. Changelings can survive a lot of damage, and fae magic can heal almost anything. I didn’t trust them to play nice.
The second spear hit me in the back of my left thigh. The momentary pain was followed by a disturbing numbness that spread down my leg, locking my knee into place. Suddenly off-balance, I staggered and fell.
Spike jumped off my shoulder and turned to face the Riders, rattling its thorns and keening in a high, warning tone. It was a display as brave as it was stupid. They would crush my poor goblin and take me anyway. I wanted to tell Spike to run, but I was so tired all of a sudden; the numbness was spreading upward, making it hard to think, move, or breathe. Poison. Damn it, Luidaeg, is there a law that says the Firstborn can’t play fair?
The Riders formed a half circle around us, weapons at the ready, and stopped. Only a half circle? I forced my head up, and found myself looking into the trees at the forest’s edge. We’d almost made it. Oak and ash, I’d been so close . . .
I let my head fall back down, closing my eyes. I was tired. I was so very tired, and the weight of the spear jutting out of my leg seemed great enough to crush me. I heard Spike running past me into the trees, thorns rattling. Good. At least one of us was going to get out of this alive. It was making a shrill keening noise as it ran, like it