The Bear staggers, succumbing to his wound. Fox seizes his chance. As the Bear lunges, Fox drives the spearhead up towards his neck.
That’s when Garrick slices his knife along my collarbone.
I let out a piercing scream, which causes Fox to whip his head round in alarm – just in time for the Bear’s gleaming brass knuckles to pierce his chest.
The crowd erupts, but all I can hear is ringing silence as the Bear drags his fist down, slicing Fox’s skin to ribbons.
Fox stares at the blood pouring from the puncture wounds. Swallows.
Then falls to his knees.
Suddenly Garrick lets out a howl of pain. I look down to find Scout, her teeth sunk deep into his calf. Adrenaline surges through me, the sensation as potent as magic. I barely know what I’m doing before I’ve done it. Raw instinct kicks in and takes control.
I drive my hips back into Garrick’s groin. As he doubles over, I whirl round and thrust my wrists up to meet his knife, severing the rope that binds them. Then I pull Silverclaw from my boot and launch myself into the pit below.
The impact shudders through my joints, but the pain barely registers. My eyes are trained on the Bear. He’s looming over Fox, fist raised, ready to deliver the killing blow.
But he doesn’t get the chance, for I’ve already plunged my dagger into his back.
Hot blood spurts on to my face. The Bear roars in agony.
My heart beats loud in my ears as I look up at the Baron – at the man who conflates brutality with merriment, the man who saw me as nothing more than a prize to be won. His face is flushed with shock, and his monocle dangles loosely from its chain.
I grip Silverclaw’s hilt and twist hard. My hands are shaking but my voice is steady.
‘Nobodywinsme.’
37
Blaze
The Bear is dead before he hits the ground.
There’s a crunch as he falls flat on his face, my dagger sticking out of his back. His eyes are blank and staring, and the ghost of his last scream is still etched on his face. He lies with his arm outstretched, hand curled into a fist. The brass knuckles gleam in the torchlight, the inlaid row of bear teeth all dripping blood.
The noise from the crowd sounds distant and distorted, as though I’m in a dream. The Baron is apoplectic with rage, hollering at Garrick, who is utterly incapacitated – rolling on the wooden platform, clutching his bleeding leg. My stomach lurches as I place one foot on the Bear’s spine and yank Silverclaw free.
Fox’s jaw is clenched tight, but choked, rasping sounds fight their way out of his mouth. I kneel in front of him to inspect the wound. It’s bad. The skin on his chest is shredded right down to his navel, the flesh torn and streaming. I can only hope those incisors didn’t penetrate deep enough to puncture an organ.
‘Can you stand?’ I yell over the din.
Fox nods dazedly and grits his teeth as I help him to his feet. He doubles over, then staggers, drunk with pain.
I spot a flash of copper darting among the crowd.
‘This way.’ I pull Fox over to the portcullis. ‘Time to climb.’
He places one foot on the bottom rung, glances up and swallows. It’s barely ten feet yet it might as well be a hundred.
I take the lead and look back when I reach the top. Fox’s golden skin is ashen, with sweat beading on his forehead. Every movement looks excruciating. Twice he appears to almost lose consciousness. I haul him up the rest of the way, gasping with the effort.
‘Seize them!’ cries the Baron.
Those nearest to us begin to close in, then shrink back as I brandish my dagger. But I can’t fight off an entire province with a single weapon. We’re entirely surrounded. And if we reveal ourselves now, it’ll have all been for nothing.
Suddenly the crowd begins to part down the middle as people throw themselves aside to make way for something racing towards us at speed. My heart leaps as the air rings with the unmistakable clattering of hooves.
Cedar.
