BOOK 2: INTO THE FIRE

  Down, down, down Faustacon Mountain the companions hurried. The witches flitted this way and that, crisscrossing through the sky ahead of those still on foot. Hoxley led the way for Morell and the prince. When the drop-offs weren’t so steep, of which there weren’t many, she carried the two boys upon her back. The sound of her hooves against ice and rock as she slipped and slid was like that of a sword being sharpened.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” said the shadow girl from the confines of the prince’s pockets. “Idris was a fine man.”

  “Thank you for your words.” Prince Damron said, wiping an errant tear from the former of his eye as he held on to Hoxley to keep from being jarred loose.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

  “Nonsense!” offered Morell “If you hadn’t arrived when you had, those soldiers would have killed all of us and taken the prince! I’ve never seen anyone like you before!”

  “Nor I,” said the shadow. “I don’t know what came over me. As night fell, I felt free, no longer held fast by the confines of the prison that daylight fashions. I had to leave. When the spaces are too small, I feel crushed and bound. Please understand that for the time I was held in my desert prison I thought I might lose myself to madness.”

  “That’s understandable.” said the prince. “With all that’s happened I think I’m going a little mad myself. Girls made of shadows? Monsters grotesque made of ice and snow that appear out of nothingness? It is all too much to take.”

  “Then we can be bound in both friendship and madness, your highness.”

  “These are extraordinary times.” Hoxley said over her shoulder as she shifted her weight to keep from dumping her passengers. “Perhaps we all belong in a cage for loons. See here, the witches are returning.” Like three swift blots the witches swooped low to hover ahead of them. Ignatius removed his pointed hat which allowed locks of silver hair to catch the wind.

  “I have bad news.” He said. “Robert has scouted ahead and spied more soldiers marching toward the south ridges of the mountain.

  “What can be done?” she asked.

  “Continue this way, follow Siouxsie further down and then head north when the path is low enough. Robert and I will cover your tracks with our brooms to erase the traces. If we’re lucky, we’ll elude them, and they’ll continue all the way up the mountain and follow the tracks down the eastern side thinking we’ve doubled back. That should buy us at least half a day’s lead.”

  “And if we’re not lucky?” asked Morell

  “Then there could be more bloodshed. Hurry, Hoxley! move swiftly!” Ignatius said before he and Robert began heading up the mountain again, each flying low enough to drag the bristles of their brooms to scatter her hoofprints in the powder. When Hoxley began to get tired, the boys jumped off and ran alongside her. At the lower altitudes, trees began to appear again and the freezing wind lost some of its teeth against their skin. Siouxsie beckoned from just ahead, encouraging them to keep up. Caution was traded for quickness and each of the companions lost their footing more than once. Hoxley herself overcompensated a small jump and found herself face first in the snow before recovering and hurrying on.

  “Hurry.” Siouxsie whispered, waving her arms. The base of the mountain widened before them and they were no longer beset on each side by fatally steep cliffs. At the first opportunity, they slid down the hill on the north side to conceal themselves beneath the low hanging limbs of an evergreen. Its needles poked and scratched any skin that dared to be exposed. Moments later, Robert and Ignatius came swooping down the path to scatter the snow, erasing all trails before joining them in the prickly underbrush. They’d barely had time to cover themselves with their white blankets before the soldiers came into view. Prince Damron watched each of them, their armor emblazoned with his father’s crest…his crest. No one dared move a muscle or make a peep as four columns of men turned and began trekking their way up the slope. Morell even held his breath. So thick were the branches that one seemed to notice the companions gathered on top of each other just underneath. Had any of them taken a moment to scrutinize their camouflage, the companions would have been discovered for sure. More and more soldiers passed; twenty, thirty, forty, fifty more

  “Are all these soldiers here for us?” Morell whispered before Ignatius held a finger across his lips. The witch nodded to the affirmative and made the gesture to stay quiet before letting him go. The final file of troops passed and marched up the mountain. When the last were almost out of view, the prince began to get up before Hoxley pushed him back.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. “We should go.” He pulled himself out of her grip and began to move the limb out of his way when Ignatius reached out with both arms and snatched him back, wrapping one long arm around him to hold him while covering his mouth with the other. The prince struggled for a moment before Ignatius pointed past the limbs. It was then that the prince saw it; rear guards. Two men with scraggly unkept beards had been trailing the others. Each had a horn around their neck. Horns that could be blown to alert the others from a long distance should they find anyone worth looking for. The limb was still bouncing in place when the men were passing by. It was the same type of movement to catch the nearest man’s eye. He paused to watch the snow frosted limb rise and fall, even going so far as to stop walking an eye it suspiciously before drawing his sword.

  “What you got there?” asked the other.

  “Don’t know.” He said. “Could be something, could be nothing.” The man came closer, closer, until he was mere feet from the limb. The tip of his sharp sword gleamed in the morning light. Each of the companions held their breath in sheer panic that they’d be discovered. Robert produced a dagger before Siouxsie held a hand out for him to hold still. Everyone watched as she held one arm straight out at the man, grasping the droopy sleeve and pulling it wide. She made three small sucking noises with her tongue against the roof of her mouth to create a *NOOK* NOOK* NOOK* sound. When finished, the material all along the sleeve came alive, the cloth twisting and writhing on its own. Hoxley watched not knowing what to expect before it happened… just before the soldier was about to step on them, a flood of tiny bats came shooting out of Siouxsie’s sleeve!

  The man yelped and flailed in fear as he was accosted by miniature winged mammals a dozen at a time. He floundered and backpedaled as fast as his legs could manage before tripping and falling on his ass. His partner roared with laughter at his cowardice. The bats circled the man three times before dispersing into the nearby trees.

  “Haw haw!” The man pointed as he doubled over in mirth. “Looks like you found something for sure!”

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  “Shut up! Shut up!” The soldier said, obviously angry at having his pride wounded. “It was just bats!” He sheathed his sword before pushing himself up and brushing off his pants. “Stop laughing! It wasn’t that funny! Come on, we have to catch up to the others!” The other soldier laughed so hard that he had to wipe tears away from the corners of his eyes as he followed and continued to mock the man’s frightened expression. “I said shut your mouth!” Their footsteps and the one man’s giggling carried on until they were long out of sight.

  “Good thinking, little sister.” Ignatius said, pinching his sisters’ cheek. Looking around the group, the witch found the non-magic users to still have disturbed expressions upon their faces.

  “Where did all those bats come from?” Morell asked

  “Those are my bats. Siouxsie said with a smile. “I always have some on me in case I need them.”

  “Need them?” the prince asked “Why would you need to carry bats?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? To scare away soldiers who might be looking for us! Come on, I think the soldiers are gone. We should keep moving lest they come back.” Siouxsie and Robert emerged from beneath the tree limbs first to see if the way was clear. When they were sure, they beckoned for their companions to join them. The others stepped out to witness Siouxsie hold her arm away from her with her other hand pulling the cuff of the sleeve wide again. *NOOK*NOOK*NOOK* she sucked.

  The bats answered her call to swarm back and fly directly up her sleeve again. When the last ones were counted for, she lowered her arm. Hoxley looked upon her, half stunned as she approached.

  “Where did you get all those bats?” she asked the witch.

  “I’ve had them with me since we left Spellvale.”

  “Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

  “Not really.” She opened her cloak to reveal all the tiny brown bats snuggled against the inside. “They cling to my leather garments, so their little claws don’t scratch me. Would you like one?”

  “A bat?”

  “Yes,” Siouxsie said, plucking one and holding it in the palm of her hand for Hoxley to take. “Bats make lovely pets; they’ll eat fruit and swoop around at night and eat the little insects that try to nibble on you while you sleep. They’re quite trainable.” Hoxley held her hand up to refuse.

  “That’s a very generous offer, but I don’t know anything of bats. Perhaps it's best that you keep them as you know how to best care for them.”

  “Perhaps you’re right.” Siouxsie considered before placing the bat within the confines of her cloak. “Does anyone else want a bat?” she asked as she looked around the group. No one took her up on the offer. “If you change your mind, I have plenty.”

  “Where will we go now?” the prince asked, looking to Ignatius and Hoxley for answers.

  “If we continue west, there’s a small friendly town called “Woodford” that’s not far away. It’s nestled on the edge of a forest.” Said Hoxley.

  “Do you think there will be an element of soldiers?” asked the prince

  “One can’t be sure.” She answered. “We’ll have to get close to get a better look. Although it may be hard since there are so many trees.”

  “I would suggest we send a pair of flying scouts, but the canopies will make things difficult to see anything. Come. We’ll make plans after we lay our eyes upon this Woodford.” Everyone followed Ignatius below the snow line and into the calm woods beyond. The air wasn’t cold here, blankets were stowed in their packs.

  “It’s peaceful.” Said Morell. “And that smell…what is it?”

  “Sweetgrass.” Hoxley told him. “Special grass grows here that holds the dew. It looks a darker color of blue sometimes. The smell in the air is sweeter here than any other place I know. If I closed my eyes, my nose could tell the difference between here and any other place, even the fragrant plains where I come from.”

  “I would like to see such a place.” Said the boy.

  “You’ll likely get your chance. You’re the least conspicuous of our group. Come on, let’s be away from here.” Tall, lush grasses swished around their feet as they made their path through the woods. The sounds of woodland creatures and songbirds were always near but just out of sight. Long beams of sunlight penetrated the canopy in gaps leaving them to navigate the hushed greenery amongst golden rays appearing and disappearing between the swaying limbs. Ignatius led the pack. Walking with purpose, his eyes watched every tree and cluster of underbrush for movement. His dominant hand never left its place resting atop the hilt of his sword still in its sheath. The witch’s stride was even and smooth beneath his cloak, making him appear to glide across the landscape as if floating on air without the aid of his broom. So long were his legs that every so often he found it necessary to pause and wait for the others to catch up before starting again. In time, Hoxley picked up her pace to a gallop to walk alongside him. Even she had to adjust her gait to stay by his side.

  “What do you think of Woodford?” she asked. “Could a detachment of soldiers be waiting for us?”

  “I take nothing for granted, Hoxley. It seems unlikely, but the prince’s uncle has proven his tenaciousness. It would serve us well to be cautious. I would do anything to keep you out of harm’s way…or any of those with us.” Hearing his words, Hoxley found herself guiding her steps a little nearer to his path. Ignatius noticed this and knelt down without stopping to snatch a yellow wildflower from its stem before carefully placing it in the nook above her right ear. “Beautiful things should always be kept away from harm.” Her face felt warm and the tips of Hoxley’s large ears and cheeks blushed a light pink. Nervous fingers played with the straps holding her wristlets as a distraction. “Remind me of your plans when this errand with the prince is finished.”

  “My plans?” she asked. “I thought I might continue with my deliveries and messages, but now? There’s so much turmoil that I’m not so sure what I ‘d do. Everything is in upheaval. What of Lord Baltus? Would he still have a bounty upon my head for helping his nephew escape? How could I ever hope to go back to the life I had before now if I have to wonder if there’s a sharp knife waiting for me behind every hedge and tree? Without a sound and final conclusion to all of this I’m not sure I have the ability to make plans. Too many things are happening.”

  “Sound observations.” He said. “I believe you may be right. If our descriptions are being passed along the land because people are looking for us then its very likely that the situation is the same for the witches in the group. Heaven knows the last thing witches need is more notoriety.”

  “Why is that?”

  “It all goes back at least five hundred years.” He said, thinking about it. “A long time ago some children set fire to a field outside a human village south of the old capital.”

  “That’s terrible! Why would they do that?”

  “No one can say, but it was dry that year and the blaze quickly spread. Before it could be extinguished, the fire burned many homes, killing a dozen women and children.” Hoxley gasped.