Free Princess of Thorns by Unknown Page B

gathering before leaping off the rock and waving his torch at the nearest knot of birds. The vultures hiss and grunt as they hop away from the crackling flame, but they don’t go far, clearly determined to stay by my side until their master orders them to leave.
    “Get moving or I’ll burn the lot of you!” Niklaas shouts.
    “No, don’t!” I knock two birds out of the way with my staff as I hurry to his side, bones aching with the fairy magic that compels me to choose mercy whenever possible, even when it comes to carrion-eating creatures. “They’re innocent.”
    “Innocent?” he asks, keeping an enormous raptor at bay with the tip of his sword.
    “They’re only animals, loyal to the one who’s fed and magicked them. They don’t know any better.” I snatch the torch from his hand and hurl it into the pool, plunging the woods back into darkness.
    “What did you do that for!”
    “It will make it harder for them to follow us.”
    “It’ll also make it harder to find our way back to the camp!” Niklaas growls, sounding like the kinsman of the birds grumbling all around us.
    “I can use my staff to keep to the path.” I reach for him in the dark, finding his chest with my fingers and following his arm down to grasp his hand. His palm swallows mine, making me feel absurdly small, a fact I immediately resent.
    “Come on. Let me lead you.” I give his arm a tug. Thankfully, after a moment of resistance, he allows me to guide him away from the spring.
    I tap the stones in front of us, using my staff to find the easiest route to the large boulder where Niklaas and I drop hands to climb over before linking up again on the other side. Behind us, much croaking and hissing and flapping of wings ensues, but none of the birds seem inclined to follow us just yet. Vultures don’t care for flying at night. Hopefully that will buy Niklaas and me some time.
    “What the devil happened back there?” Niklaas asks as I find the path and aim us back toward the petrified forest. “Did they all come down from the trees at once, or—”
    “I don’t know. I think I … fell asleep,” I mumble.
    “You think you—”
    “I fell asleep!” I snap, cheeks burning. “And when I woke up there they were.”
    “You could have drowned,” Niklaas says in his big brother tone, the one that reminds me of Janin when she chides me for forgetting that even a fairy-gifted human body has its limitations.
    “I know,” I mutter through clenched teeth.
    “You could have been killed. Killed by your own bath before you—”
    “I know! It was foolish. It won’t happen again.” I debate dropping his meaty paw and letting him find his own way back in the dark.
    “It will be a miracle if I manage to keep you alive. Flaming ridiculous,” Niklaas scolds, but the way he squeezes my hand makes it clear his temper is coming from a place of concern, and I feel bad for snapping.
    “Thank you for coming to help me,” I say softly.
    Niklaas acknowledges my gratitude with a grunt. “I can’t see a damned thing! Are we even walking in the right direction?”
    “We are. We’ll be back to the horses in a few minutes.” I pick up my pace, relying on memory and the shadowy outlines of obstacles along the path as much as my staff. I have a good eye for ground and rarely forget a trail once I’ve traveled it. “There should be enough moonlight in the clearing to saddle Alama and gather our things.”
    “We can’t ride now. The path to the grasslands is too steep to travel at night.”
    “We have no choice,” I say. “An ogre battalion could be on their way. Ekeeta can communicate what her creatures see to her Captains of the Guard.”
    “More magic?”
    “No, it—” I break off when my staff finds an obstacle in the trail. “We’ve reached the fallen log. About three hands in front of you.” I climb over and wait for Niklaas to do the same before hurrying on. “It’s not magic. Ogres of the same clan have a telepathic