Page 124 of The Pumpkin Bride

“A lost cause with you as an opponent.” Bram hefted another rock. “Paloma, fetch him.”

In a clattering flurry of hooves, Paloma rushed Kevin. She collided with his legs as Bram’s rock thumped against his chest. The simultaneous blows knocked Kevin from his feet. With his blood pumping, Bram scrambled toward the downed knight.

One kick sent his sword spinning across the courtyard.

Bram lifted Kevin by his pauldrons, then lifted him into the air. Oh, the sprite had indeed done him a service in granting him this form. For all the times the orc’s body had felt like he was wearing ill-fitting garb, today he delighted in the fear its speed and strength struck in this small-spirited man’s eyes.

“What’s the matter, Kevin? Afraid I’ll treat you the way you’ve treated me?”

Kevin’s nostrils flared. “What do you want? Set me down and name your price.”

Bram gritted his teeth, his under tusks aching to know what it felt like to go for the thick pulsing vein in Kevin’s neck. Since his true love arrived on his doorstep, he’d achieved his heart’s desire. Withal, he had but one regret.

“I want the time I missed with Marigold back, you wretched cur.”

With superhuman restraint, he twisted Kevin ’round, then squeezed his thick green arm around the knight’s neck until he collapsed like a marionette with cut strings. Alive, but no longer a threat.

Unlike Crispin and the autumn sprite under his control.

“Coby!” he bellowed. “I’ve need of you!”

Chapter 38

With the folded note tucked inside her corselet, Marigold fled into the forest with a basket of cakes, cookies, and comfited pumpkin seeds. They might’ve jumbled as she ran, but she couldn’t slow down. Not with Kevin threatening to force her return to Crispin and accuse Bram, known to all of Harvest Hollow as Jask Bone-Cracker, of kidnapping her.

They’d believe it, too.

Why else would a princess betrothed to the—yuck—winsome Prince Crispin live at Grimroot Farm? Saints, she had to get to Grindlethwack first. Tonight was the full Hunter’s Moon, and upon sunrise, the autumn sprite would slumber until next year’s equinox. It was entirely possible for Crispin to ask the sprite to unmoor Bram from the farm so the guard could throw him into Dreadmoor. The prison was known to break spirits as well as backs. She couldn’t allow Bram to rot there.

She needed to free him from this curse.

Impossible? Maybe. But she’d accomplished a lot of impossible things since she’d been in Harvest Hollow, so honestly, what was one more? She jumped over the brook rather than run upstream and cross at the bridge. Her ankle rolled under her as she landed. Not exactly a hero’s leap, but she’d limp on.

“Princess, on the prince’s orders, stop.” A stranger’s voice reached her at the goldcap tree, along with the unmistakable sound of swords being drawn.

Crispin’s knights had infiltrated the Windfall Wood.

Stop? Never. She didn’t slow, nor did she look back. Halfway to the Lantern Oak was no time to be snatched up by these ruffians. Princess Marigold Ashford was far too busy.

With a flick of the fingers, she snapped herself small again.

“Dammit,” the knight swore.

Hidden in the tall grass, she caught her breath. Small as she was, she’d evade the knights. Except . . . small as she was, it would take a week to get to the Lantern Oak. Perhaps she hadn’t thought this through.

The grass swayed with the movement of a skulking stalker.

Shite, shite, shite, she really hadn’t thought this through.

“Princess, you’re surrounded. This is foolish.”

The ground underneath her vibrated as steps grew closer.

The swaying grass in front of her parted. This might be how things end for her. The size of a mouse in a forest on the way to bargain with the autumn sprite. She cowered against a rock as a pink nose surrounded by white-and-orange fur emerged from the grass.

“Fuzzle!” she squealed.

The cat twitched his ears as he nosed her small basket.