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“The path ahead is smooth, and look.” Galen points to the crowd, just visible above the high walls. Their attention is focused further ahead. Someone, maybe many someones, are beating us. “No time.”
Galen drops to one knee, his face creased in concentration.
“But— Then—” Words die on my tongue.
Thick vines spring out from the side of the cliff, braiding together and reaching across the void. Without thinking, I step back. My foot slips on rubble.
Lysandir moves in a blink, grabbing my arm to steady me. “Careful.”
A humorless laugh echoes from my chest. Right. Wouldn’t want to die being clumsy.
“That’ll do.” The prince’s words have barely left his lips before he scoops me off the ground.
I clamp down on a scream as he runs out onto the vines with me over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. Galen follows.
My eyes clamp shut. Lysandir leaps.
A silent prayer still rings through my head as we thump onto solid ground. I’m back on my feet before I can fully process what just happened.
“Come on.” Galen races ahead as I watch his magical vines crumble to leaves and drift down into the darkness.
No going back now.
I race after the men, skidding down the slope to where they wait. Both look around the bend, not paying any attention as I nearly stumble the last few feet to the landing.
“What is—” I start.
But Galen pulls me into his arms and clamps a hand over my mouth. What the heck? I squirm against him until his harsh whisper fills my ears. “Shh.”
He points ahead. I go utterly still, breath catching in my throat as I take in what they’ve seen. A large feline—twice as big as a lion—lumbers just ahead, hissing and roaring up at the crowd.
It hasn’t seen us.
Yet.
“Torch it?” Galen whispers as he lets me go.
The prince grimaces but nods.
“You can’t,” I hiss.
Both men stare at me like I’ve grown a second head.
I plant my palms on my hips, staring them down. “You can’t kill it.”
“I doubt it shares your sentiments,” Lysandir says.
Nausea churns in my belly. Maybe not, but killing for sport, for no benefit but our victory, feels wrong. Hunting for food is one thing. I still didn’t exactly like it when Dad would bring home deer or ducks when I was a kid, but at least it was done to put food on the table. But this…
“The crowd has it distracted. We sneak by.” I point to the side nearest us, behind the creature’s back.
The prince’s scowl deepens. “Should it turn on us, I won’t hesitate.”
Fine. No point in arguing, especially when it’s clear he won’t budge on this.
The crowd increases their antics, jumping up and down and shouting at the beast. They’re on our side, and I’ll take any help I can get. We sneak as fast as we dare down the side of the wall, the prince in front and me squished in the middle. The courtesy isn’t lost on me, nor is the fact that they’re going at my pace.
If I wasn’t here, no doubt they’d have used their magic and zipped on by.
