“It’s as if sheenjoysbeing contrary,” the prince muttered with a shake of his head.
“Monpira,” the Wolf answered. “I have a connection there who might help. He could take us to the outpost for San Cirilo.” The Wolf made a sudden turn left, down a tunnel Risa swore hadn’t been there moments before.
“A fellow outlaw?” Javi’s eyebrows lifted in question.
The Wolf regarded them with the one eye Risa could see from beneath the cover of her hood. “It depends on who asks.”
Risa was in no mood to play the Wolf’s games. She was tired of walking, she was hungry—the fish soup a salty memory—and she was wary of being underground in a tunnel they were decidedly lost in.
“Fine, and if somehow Javi’s long-lost great-uncle can’t help—”
“Might be a cousin, though I still can’t be sure,” Javi interjected, more to himself than anyone.
“—then how are you supposed to get us to—” Risa growled with exasperation as the block in her mind stopped her mid-speech. The word had slipped away again.
“Madros?” the Wolf supplied.
Thatwas it. The thing that had been bothering Risa, even when she couldn’t remember what it was. The ease with which the Wolf could say that word, the way it never went missing or slipped out of reach, the familiarity of it in the Wolf’s mouth.
“How do you do it?” Risa asked, advancing on the outlaw. Javi followed and tried to pull her back with a gentle hand around her good elbow. “We can’t even say the word. Not since Spearbelly. But you can.”
The Wolf shrugged but refused to look at Risa. “I do not know.”
“You seem to know nothing at all. Not even how to get out of this stupid maze. We’ve been walking for hours!”
At this, the outlaw huffed, “You need not worry,” but her voice sounded strained. “I have crossed dozens—no, scores—of times before. This is no different.”
How could that be when the world was practically closing in on them?
No, it actually was. The walls pressed closer, the ground beneath their feet humming with a deep, churning rumble. Inch by slow inch, with the torches flickering wildly.
The tunnels were shrinking.
The horses noticed and bucked in protest. Torches at the farthest end of the path snuffed out, one by one, urging the darkness closer. Brunie yowled at the encroaching danger before leaping from Risa’s shoulder and disappearing into the unfathomable depths.
“Oh, gods,” Javi started, staring at the two of them with panicked eyes. “I’m going to die here.”
The torches continued to flicker out, and the few that remained lit cast long, distended shadows across the too-close walls. Dread washed over Risa as she realized her curse had struck again, and she would be its final victim.
“We’re all going to die,” Risa realized aloud.
Naivete had made her believe that her bad luck would never take her down with it.
There was so much she hadn’t gotten to do. She would have liked to see the rest of the world. To break her curse. To hug her parents without being concerned that doing so might seal their demise.
Her eyes fluttered closed as the tunnels threatened to crush them.
A voice rang out: “Oh my, I think I can help.”
The walls stopped shrinking. The torches flared back to life. And before Risa stood a radiant woman with silver hair aglow like a shimmering curtain of constellations. Her bright eyes were the same color as her hair, two twinkling stars plucked from the very fabric of the night sky. Luminous pale skin glimmered in the flames, as did her resplendent white gown sewn from moonlight, which draped over her svelte body. There was not a hair out of place or a blemish upon the woman’s smooth skin, let alone a wart or crooked nose to signal her witchiness. It was difficult to look straight at her shining visage, and when Risa could manage staring for longer than a few seconds, she felt the same heat of magic race across her skin as when Brunhilda threw spells.
The horses shied, frightened by the sudden appearance of a glowing person. It wasn’t every day that they ran into the human equivalent of a firefly.
“Nowthatis definitely a witch,” the Wolf declared. She rested her hands on the hilts of her daggers.
The witch reached with a long, slender finger and tapped Risa’s forehead.
Her heartbeat slowed. The panic that had been building in her chest ebbed at the cool touch, replaced with relief. Even her dislocated shoulder felt better. She stared up in awe, unable to tear her gaze away until the witch turned and allowed her to break from the shimmery thrall.
