Free The Spark of a Feudling by Wendy Knight

it, knocking her mother backward onto the steps.
    Vivian screamed, and the house burst into activity. Guards came running. The candles in the giant chandelier overhanging the stairs flickered to life as Richard appeared on the third floor landing. He stared down at them, distaste curling his lip.
    Ada didn’t care. She advanced on her mother, seething. “Do not ever threaten me again. Remember who it is you’re attacking next time you throw a spell at your own daughter!” she screamed. Without a backward glance she grabbed up her skirts and sprinted up the stairs.
    She threw herself into her room, closing the door behind her and collapsing against it. What had she just done? And why, oh why, did she not feel any remorse? Only this hatred, this burning anger. The flames in her blood refused to be calmed. She rushed to her armoire, digging out the cloak. She threw it over her shoulders and shoved her window open. This time there was no careful climbing and dropping. She leaped from the window, landing hard on her feet. She felt pain shoot through her legs and she fed off it, welcoming it.
    But it did nothing to quench the anger. So she ran. To protect those in the manor, she must leave. She sprinted through the darkness to the stables, to her father’s fastest horse. She grabbed a bridle as she ran past the hook on the wall. Leaping onto his back without even a saddle, she yelled. “Yah!” The big, black horse reared, nearly throwing her, but she clutched his mane in her hands. They burst from the stables and raced down the lane and she risked a glance over her shoulder as they galloped past the wide front steps.
    Richard stood motionless, watching her go.

Chapter Four
    Ada had no idea where she was going, but the fire in her blood seemed to be leading her somewhere specific, and she was fairly positive there was a battle wherever that somewhere specific might be. So she pushed the horse hard, giving him his head and ducking low on his back as they tore down the lane.
    Coincidentally, or not, in the opposite direction of London.
    They left the village behind. In the deepest, darkest hours of the night, they left all semblances of civilization and raced into the thick forest. It was dangerous here, and not because of the war. Highwaymen preyed on lone travelers, Ada had heard. Villagers were constantly asking her father for help in protecting them. As far as she knew, he’d never done it.
    But the flames. The flames were calling for the battle that she could only assume was somewhere down the darkened road, perhaps the next village over, perhaps farther, but she wasn’t going to stop until she found it. Her horse, despite having no magical abilities, seemed just as anxious as she was to be free, and he ran like the hounds of Hades were on his heels.
    If there were highwaymen, they wouldn’t be able to catch us an y way.
    The second the thought entered her mind, she cursed. Fate possessed a cruel sense of humor — whether or not there had been highwaymen ready to attack before, there certainly were now. When she saw the shapes blocking the road ahead, she wasn’t surprised. Or afraid.
    Annoyed. But not afraid.
    She slowed her horse, since the men were blocking the entire road. Her options were either to crash right into them, or try to go around and crash right into a tree. Neither looked feasible. “Well, look’it this. What a fine specimen of horseflesh.” The cockney accent was so thick, Ada had to strain to understand it.
    â€œFar too fine for the likes of you. Move out of the way,” she snarled.
    They erupted in boisterous laughter. Four of them, if there were none hiding in the trees. “And a little girl atop such a big horsey. Come down and play with us, little girl.”
    She grit her teeth. Why must she be so small? “Believe me when I tell you that you should really move out of my way before you get hurt.”
    More laughter. “What’sa