Marcus’s eyes darted toward the village and locked on the cloud of dust billowing from the main road. He knew it could only be one thing: horsemen. Without a word, he grabbed Sage’s arm, leading her back to the horses.
“Don’t tell anyone we were here,” Willow advised. She looked at the girl. “It’s a secret.”
“Which way to the pond?” Sage asked, mounting her horse.
The woman pointed into the distance.
“You’d best get inside,” Christian advised, guiding Willow to their horses.
The woman nodded, her brows furrowing with concern. She grabbed her daughter’s hand, ordering her to drop the frog. They hurried into the apothecary shop.
Marcus squinted at the cloud of dust slowly unfurling in the distance, drawing closer with each passing moment. Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach. “Who is it?”
“It has to be my father,” Christian answered as they started down the path where the woman had signaled. “We shouldn’t all take the same path. If we split up, we have a chance of misleading them. Willow and I will enter the forest from this direction.”
“We’re not splitting up,” Raven insisted.
“We’ll meet up in a moment,” Christian promised.
“No,” Raven said firmly. “We arenotsplitting up.”
Sage and Willow exchanged glances.
“He’s right,” Landyn assured her. “It will be well. We’ll all come together at the pond.”
Raven set her jaw and glared at the circle of family, her blue eyes flashing. “No. We stay together,” she stated resolutely. “I’m not losing my family again.” With a determined stride, she headed for the edge of the woods and swung herself onto her horse’s back.
It was a bad move, Marcus knew. They would easily be tracked.
Landyn rode after Raven, ducking beneath the branch of a tree. Christian and Willow followed.
Sage stopped at Marcus’s side. She gave a tiny, helpless shrug. “I guess losing Father hit her harder than I thought.”
Marcus shook his head. “Losing you and Willow was much harder for her.”
Sage lifted her eyebrows in contemplation before spurring her steed after the group.
Marcus picked up a branch from the ground. He swiped at the terrain, erasing their footprints. As the sky grew dimmer, he stepped into the forest’s shadows. He led his horse through layers of red-orange leaves. Thin trees stretched high above into bare branches.
He looked back at the town. A large squadron of men charged down the street. Marcus disappeared into the tree line.
Clarissa raced out of the shop, her eyes scanning the road. There! Across the dirt street, she saw it—a small green frog hopping away. She sprinted towards it and scooped it up before the thundering sound of hooves filled the air. She quickly ducked into the shop, holding her frog firmly in her tiny hands.
The door flew open as a dozen men clambered in. Her mother turned to face the doorway, her welcoming smile bright.
A man with black armor surveyed the room and stopped before her.
“We have every plant you could—” she started, but he interrupted her.
“Have you seen three men and three women? All with swords,” the man demanded.
Clarissa scowled, thrusting out her lower lip. She didn’t like the man. His tone was mean. She clutched the frog protectively to her chest.
“No,” her mother said. “There have been no visitors in two days and definitely not such a big group.”
Clarissa huddled in a corner, stroking the little frog.
The man leaned close to her mother, his voice low and intense. “Are you certain?” He removed a burlap bag from his traveling cloak and weighed it in his hands. He held it out to her mother, the coins inside clinking.
