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“But it doesn’t work on Sharpe, who’s a pureblooded fae,” Flint counters. “It’s the creatures made from magic versus beings who wield magic conundrum.”
“Do we even know if we’re dealing with fae?” Darius asks. “Salt is a common magical cleanser.”
“Pen, what do you think?” Urgency underlies Sharpe’s question.
I peer back over my shoulder at the cloaked horsemen, trying to see through the shadows that cover their faces to the riders hidden beneath, but I find no hint of features. For all I know, I’m riding at the head of a group of spirits.
The hoods shift to face me, black gaping holes that hold the weight of judgment.
A shiver of fear passes through me, and I face forward. “I can’t tell.”
“Keep moving, Pen,” Sharpe orders through the earpiece. “We’ll figure something out.”
As the conversation continues, Star’s head turns toward Clearhelm, and the horse veers in the same direction.
My heart lurches, and I gently force her head to face straight forward once more.
Relief sweeps through me as the horse returns to the middle of the road, and we ride past the turn.
The thunder of hooves behind us slows, and I look back at the horsemen to see them hesitating at the Clearhelm access road, the riders gazing in the direction of the city.
“Come on, assholes,” I whisper. “If you want a child to follow, you damn well better follow.”
They prance around in a circle before kicking back into a gallop to chase after us.
I face forward once more. “I’m leading them away, but I don’t know how many times I can do that.”
“We’re on our way,” Sharpe says.
My heart aches with the desire to protect Star, but if we can’t find a way to stop the Hunt, destroying their leader may be our only option. And that’s something Flint would never have been able to bring himself to do.
If I’m forced to make that decision, he might hate me for the rest of our lives.
“What about the Ward?” Darius asks suddenly. “Ultimate annihilation. Pure ley line magic. Nothing can survive that.”
“We survived that,” I remind him.
“No, you survived that, my lady. You just brought us along with you,” he corrects. “But you are a being of life and rebirth. The Wild Hunt is not.”
“It could work,” Marc agrees. “More than that, though, it’s the only viable option we’ve come up with.”
“Are you kidding?” Flint scoffs, his voice tight with panic. “How do you expect to get seven horses into an elevator?”
The numbing cold creeps farther up my legs. “Sharpe, can you use your power to shift the entire Hunt to the Ward?”
“You mean fold space enough to transport them all?” He hesitates. “It’s not like the couch trick, Pen. I’ve never transported a living creature before.”
“You have, you just don’t remember.” Desperation claws at me. “I know you can do it.”
“That’s a lot of faith to place on a life I’ve forgotten.”
“I believe in you.” The words hold both a plea and a promise.
“Wait,” Flint demands. “What’s the plan once we’re in the Ward? None of us are hitting that kill switch with you and Star trapped inside!”
“Go to the Ward. Close the door after Star and I are through the safety door.” My mind races, trying to figure out a way for us all to survive.
While I’m distracted, the horse abruptly turns around, and I almost fall off.
