“How far is it to the center of the Woods?” he asked Viola.
“At least two days,” she responded.
“Do we have enough supplies?” Barclay asked. He hadn’t been prepared to travel, so his bags weren’t packed.
“We might, but we’ll never make it in time. Neither will Tadg.”
“We will if we run fast.”
Soon Barclay and Viola had bundled themselves in their heaviest clothes, thrown as many supplies as they could into their bags, and raced down the streets of Sycomore. Shopkeepers had decorated their storefronts with candy icicles and glowing Zapling lanterns. The town was loud with carolers and bell chimes and the hisses, caws, and growls of various Beasts.
It wasn’t until they reached the quietness of the clearingthat Barclay summoned Root. His black fur looked like smoke in the pulsing lantern light.
“It’s been awhile,” Barclay told him. Nearly two weeks had passed since he’d last brought Root to this grove, since he’d last summoned Root at all. Root let out a low huff, like he was well aware of how much time had gone by.
“Barclay…,” Viola said nervously. “What are you planning?”
Barclay knelt in front of Root and ran his hand through Root’s fur. “I’m sorry. I have a favor to ask,” he murmured.
Root’s dark eyes watched him, wary. If Root had trusted Barclay once, he didn’t anymore.
The thought made Barclay’s stomach clench with guilt, and even disappointment. It didn’t matter what Runa had offered him. It didn’t matter what Barclay really wanted. All that did matter was stopping Soren before what had happened to Barclay’s parents happened to others.
But another idea—a tiny, quiet one—pinched in the back of his mind. Runa had said that Marks could only be removed with a Beast of a higher class. She’d assumed because Root was a Mythic Beast, that was impossible.
But if they were about to confront Soren, if they were about to face Gravaldor… maybe that wasn’t quite true.
“It’s one last favor,” Barclay said softly.
Root must have understood, because his head sank lower.
“We need to find Tadg and reach the center of the Woods fast,” Barclay continued. “Will you take us there?”
Root let out a low whine, but then he nodded.
Swallowing down his feelings, Barclay climbed on top of Root’s back, between the bones of his protruding spine. He reached out to Viola. “Come on.”
Viola’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“Do you want to stop Soren or not?”
She took a deep breath and grabbed his hand. He hoisted her behind him, and she wrapped her arms around his stomach. “How fast will Root—” Her words turned to a startled shriek when Root took off.
Barclay and Root had run this fast before, but then Barclay had been too afraid of Soren to pay attention. As Root picked up speed, Barclay felt the exact moment he went hollow. When the wind whipped through him, through his skin and between his bones. When they moved so fast, the entire world went still around them.
They ran for hours. As they traveled deeper into the heart of the Woods, the blurry surroundings around them began to change. The white of snow became the reds of Autumn and the greens of Summer. Barclay’s Winter coat and layers of sweaters suddenly felt hot. The sounds of Beasts surrounded them. He could feel the roars and howls quake within his stomach, the screeches and caws echo in his ears. The air even smelled like the magic of the Woods, like the scent of the earth after it rained.
Eventually Root slowed to a stop within a grove. The trees around them were vibrantly green, drooping with long tangles of leafy vines, and insects buzzed within their canopies.
A small squirrel Beast, which had been busy digging in the dirt, froze as the Lufthund loomed over it. It made a squeak and fled up a nearby tree.
“Why have we stopped here?” Barclay asked Root.
Viola hopped onto the ground and shrugged off her coat. When Barclay followed her, Root let out a whimper.
“What is it?” he asked him.
“Barclay,” Viola choked, pointing at the ground.
