Page 146 of The Shadow Wand

Sixth Month

Valgard, Gardneria

I cling to Lukas’s hand as we rush uphill through the woods, sticks and brush scraping against my cheeks and arms, desperation fueling my steps. Thewhooshof wingbeats sounds from above, and I duck as three sapphire forms shoot by overhead.

More Vu Trin dragons!

Lukas adjusts our course, and I do my best to push through a painful stitch in my side, my lungs feeling like they’re full of glass shards as we run, the red beadwork on my skirts repeatedly catching on brush and tearing away whenever I yank up my hem to free my steps.

The roar of dragons and theboomof explosions coming from the direction of Valgard’s ports spike my pulse, my heart attempting to punch a hole through my chest as we pick up our pace and Lukas meets my panic-stricken gaze with a steely look of his own.

We rush over a road that cuts through the forest, then sprint back into the wrathful trees as another explosion sounds. I keep hold of Lukas’s hand as we run up a wooded hill, then down a steep embankment where I briefly lose my footing and Lukas catches me as I start to skid.

After righting my balance, we dart toward a hemlock grove, and I startle and slide to an abrupt stop alongside Lukas as a hooded Gardnerian figure emerges from the shadows of the towering evergreen trees—a young man with a severe, elegant face, blistering urgency in his pine green eyes.

Thierren!

He motions us forward, and we follow him into the hemlock shadows and around a large, rocky outcropping to find three horses saddled and ready to go.

Mahogany-haired Malthorin Thoroughbreds. Built for sustained speed. Travel packs hanging from their sides.

Thierren tosses Lukas a stuffed sack, which Lukas deftly catches then pulls clothing out of and hands a simple black woolen tunic and dark riding skirt to me.

“Where are Sparrow and Effrey?” I ask. “And Aislinn?”

“Safe,” Thierren reassures me.

“Put these on,” Lukas directs as I take the clothing. He gestures with a sweep of his finger along his face. “Wipe off all that face paint. And get rid of the jewelry.”

“What happened?” Thierren asks Lukas, seeming rattled, as Lukas throws off his own silk red-embroidered tunic. There are weapons strapped all over Lukas’s body. More weapons than he had on last night, most of them Noi rune blades marked with glowing sapphire runes on their hilts. And his extra wand with Noi runes worked into its ebony wood is sheathed against his side.

“The Vu Trin took out the entire estate,” Lukas harshly recounts to Thierren, his jaw set as he pulls on a plain woolen tunic.

I turn away from them, yank off my Sealing tunic, hastily throw on the new one, and wipe off my makeup with the discarded tunic as another explosion sounds in the direction of the city.

“Vogel survived,” Lukas says to Thierren, giving him a quick, portentous look as I tug on the long riding skirt under my Sealing skirt. “He knows what Elloren is. And he suspects she’s alive. He sent out a search spell.”

Thierren stills, as if he’s been physically hit with this information. “During the day?” he asks, low and weighted as I tug off the Sealing skirt.

Lukas nods, his returning look one of such grave import that it spikes my urgency as I quickly remove my glittering ruby earrings, necklace, and hair decorations and shove them into my pocket.

“We need to get Elloren out of the Western Realm.” Lukas draws the rune-marked wand from its sheath strapped just under his tunic’s side. “Andfast.” He turns to me, his eyes blazing with purpose. “Pull up your sleeve, Elloren,” he says, his tone brooking no argument. “I’m going to create another shield just under your skin, to make it difficult for the Vu Trin to track you, as well.”

Wordlessly I draw back my sleeve and hold out my forearm to him.

Lukas presses the rune wand’s tip to my skin and murmurs a spell in the back of his throat.

A stream of thready blue lightning flows from his wand’s tip and forks around my wrist and up my arm, tickling my skin as the thin, forking veins crackle over me. Then Lukas goes to one knee and lowers his wand to the forest floor, angling his head down as he murmurs another spell.

Another flash of blue lines courses from his wand’s tip. They fan out over the forest floor in a glowing net that courses in the direction we came from, the lines vanishing almost as quickly as they were sent out.

“What was that?” I ask Lukas.

“Noi anti-tracking sorcery.” He rises and surveys the forest floor. “One of the runes on the wand is precharged with it.”

His knowledge of mixed magery is like a door to the unknown thrown open. “You need to teach me how to do all of that,” I say, insistent.

Lukas flashes me a look of approval. “I will,” he promises as he pulls up the side of his tunic, flashing his glimmering-green skin in the dark gloom as he resheathes the wand.

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