She could hardly see anything through her hair, but could feel Garin jostling him below, trying to pull them back in without toppling Lilac. “Stop it, you two,” she screamed, scrambling for purchase and steadying herself on the roof. “I’m going to fall!”
“You have one chance,” Emrys bellowed from below. “Don’t miss!”
With a final shake of her head, her eyes were clear—and she almost wished they were covered again.
Charging toward them through the mist was a stunning black and red carriage pulled by a single animal. The magnificent broad creature, long and off-white in coat, with two thick horns, was nearly the size of the cart itself, wide as two horses side by side. A woman with two long black braids stood in the driver’s box, steering the animal toward them, while another followed beside it on horseback, wielding a thick bow and arrow.
Her heart dropped. A retractable awning jostled along the left side of their cart, various charms and symbols swinging wildly in the wind.
“What does the market look like?” she yelled.
From behind her, Adelaide’s panicked shriek pierced the howling wind. “It’s the market, don’t throw it!”
The flame was nearly at the bottle; there wasn’t any time to deliberate.
“Lilac,” Garin commanded. “Throw! Throw it or we’ll get blown to bits!”
She arched her arm back, but another arrow whistled through the air, this time hooking the bottle in the opening. It flew out of her hand, whichgot soaked in the bottle’s contents and erupted briefly into flame. She shrieked, but it was lost to the wind as a burst of light and air exploded ahead of the carriage. Another shout from an unfamiliar male voice, screams from Adelaide and Giles, and a chilling unison of horse neighs were almost simultaneous with a deafening crash.
Then, Lilac was airborne.
9
Hands were fluttering over her when Lilac began to slip into consciousness. She couldn’t see anything, couldn’t tell if her eyes were open, but the hands… She knew they were Garin’s by the slow, steady breathing above her. She could feel them, but barely.
It was everything else she felt. Pain—excruciating agony—spread down her back, up her neck, and into her pounding skull. She could barely move her arms; she twitched a finger, or at least she thought she did. There was a loud exhale of relief above her. A hand lifted hers, cradled it, but a chest-shattering moan came from her mouth at the ripple of fire that it sent into her shoulder.
“Garin, don’ttouchher,” Adelaide snarled, her voice trembling and broken. “Don’t—” She trailed off, gasping. “I found him. Your driver.”
Then, the witch was silent. There were no discernible sounds coming from Giles or even Emrys.
“You hit the girl instead.” It was an unfamiliar, echoing female voice she heard now, off in the distance, cold and laced with blame.
“I shot him eventually,” a second voice replied. She was clipped, aggressive. Younger. It was the one she’d heard shout earlier, the horseback archer.
“He wasn’t even your target,” Adelaide shot from nearby. There were footsteps.
New fingers, soft and smaller, gingerly palpated her collarbone—then her sides, and the pain there was so great it caused Lilac to inhale sharply. She couldn’t do anything, couldn’t move to swat those hands away. Her gasps turned into sobs, breaths feeling much too shallow. Each time her ribs expanded and contracted, a jolt of agony ripped through her.
Adelaide cussed, backing away.
The first voice spoke again, low and apologetic. “I don’t understand. Our scout is never wrong.”
“Well, it was,” said Adelaide. “She’s not just agirl. She’s our queen.”
There was a moment of silence. “She tells no lies,” said the first voice to her counterpart. “Is she yours, blood drinker?”
“Yes—n-no.” His hands lifted off of her. “She is my charge.”
“A vampire and the mortal queen,” the second voice mused, growing closer.
Lilac tried to move, to sit up, to see. She felt herself blinking—at least she thought she was—but all she saw was darkness.
“Stay away.” Garin’s response was pure warning, his voice inhuman. “You’ve done enough.”
The shuffling slowed as it neared. “She is suffering from her injuries,” said the second voice. “We have nothing on our cart that will heal her momentarily, but you can simply offer her the kiss of death. She will be renewed.”
“No.” His answer was curt, leaving no room for protest. “She’s awake. She can hear us, I can tell by her pulse. But she won’t open her eyes. What is wrong with her?”
