is your fault. You let the Corrupter and his Marked in.
Shoving the thought out of his mind, Killian glanced backward. Malahi was gaining ground. Her braid had come loose, and her golden locks trailed out behind her. Her amber eyes locked with his and she grinned, her expression fierce and defiant and honest. A fighter. So different from the façade she put on for her court. The face of the queen this kingdom needed. “Try to keep up, Princess!” he shouted, and dug in his heels.
Seahawk surged forward, plunging between an abandoned farmhouse and a barn. Both had been looted, broken furniture and mud-soaked clothing littering the yard. The barn had been partially burned, scorched planks of wood reaching skyward like blackened fingers. The gate on the empty pigpen swung open and shut, and against one of the posts sat an abandoned doll, its eyes seeming to track Killian as he passed. Where is its owner? he wondered. Is she safe with her parents somewhere in the South? Or is she trapped in Mudaire’s walls like all the rest?
Is she even alive?
Faster, he willed his horse. As if it were possible to outrun his own thoughts.
Malahi surged past him, racing toward a spot where the wall had crumbled. Killian kept straight on, Seahawk gathering herself beneath him and then vaulting the obstacle, her stride lengthening on the far side as they flew across the empty pasture.
One more fence stood between them and the road, and beyond loomed Hammon’s Rock, the granite glittering in the sun. There was a ditch between the fence and the road, and he tugged on the reins to slow his horse’s pace, not caring to risk her breaking a leg.
“I’m not going to let you win, Killian!” Malahi shouted, pulling alongside him. “And you’re cooking me lunch as my reward!”
“Malahi, slow down!” he shouted. “There’s a ditch!”
She either didn’t hear him or didn’t care.
His skin abruptly began to prickle, everything coming into sharp focus. “Malahi, stop!”
The wind stole his voice, carrying with it a fetid stench that made him gag. Gods, no!
“Malahi!” he screamed her name. “Don’t jump!”
Her head whipped around, and she sat back, hauling on the reins.
It was too late.
Her horse leapt the low fence, Malahi losing her seat and toppling backward, barely missing the wall as she fell to the ground.
Killian flung himself off Seahawk’s back as she slid to a halt, running to Malahi’s side.
“I’m all right.” She brushed away his hand as he tried to help her up. “My horse…”
A desperate, frantic whinny split the air. They both stumbled to the wall, leaning over the rough-hewn blocks of stone.
Filling the ditch between the wall and the embankment of the road was a river of black slime. And in the center of it struggled the horse, already up to her belly and sinking fast.
Malahi screamed.
Killian was already moving. He ran to Seahawk and extracted a length of rope from his saddlebags. Leaping over the wall, he slid down the bank to the edge of the blight, forming a loop, which he tossed over the mare’s head and drew tight. He scrambled back up the bank and over the wall, fastening the other end to his saddle.
Malahi caught hold of Seahawk’s reins, urging her to pull.
“Keep it taut.” Sprinting back to the wall, which was nothing more than rocks that had been stacked on top of one another, Killian shoved his weight against it, sending the rocks rolling down the gentle slope. He slid after them and pushed the rocks into the murk, swearing as they sank into the spongy earth.
The mare’s nostrils flared in desperation and exhaustion, her eyes rolling as she struggled.
“Easy, easy.” Killian stacked more rocks to create enough of a bridge that he wouldn’t sink himself, then picked his way out into the black flow. “I won’t let it have you.”
He stretched out his fingers toward the mare’s nose, reaching for the reins. The rocks were sinking beneath him, the sludge rising up his boots. “Come on, lovely. Try. You need to try.”
The horse stretched her nose toward his hand and Killian lunged, catching hold of the reins. “Pull!” he shouted, scrambling backward, lending his strength even as Malahi urged his horse on.
The mare squealed and struggled, and for a painful few moments Killian thought it was a lost cause. That whatever sickness the Corrupter’s minions had put into the earth was too strong.
Then the horse began to shift, creeping forward inch by inch. When her neck and shoulders