Page 95 of Heart of the Summer Queen

“Get down!” he roars.

In the next instant his arms lock around me, dragging me to the ground. He leans into the frozen bark of the tree behind us.

The sky explodes with the thundering of wings.

A murder of crows, each with icy feathers, storms across the stars. Dread coils through my stomach. I press into Elaric as far as I can, seeking to make us as small a target as possible.

Looking up, I watch as the crows search the sky, glimpsing their forms between the leaves high above us. I pray the shadows cover us. That the creatures don’t delve into the trees...

They circle back, flying over us. But then they continue onward, out to sea. The beating of wings fades into the distance.

“Do you think they’ve gone?” I whisper to Elaric once the sky empties. Our meager hiding place is far too exposed. Yet moving now risks being spotted if they return.

But before Elaric can respond, a caw rings from behind us—much too loud and near.

I risk leaning out just far enough to glimpse a lone crow perched on a branch several yards away. Its head swivels as it inspects the crystalline forest.

Its glare rakes toward us. I jerk back.

“Don’t move,” Elaric whispers, breath tickling my hair.

I turn rigid in his arms, not even twitching.

If that crow swoops near enough to notice our forms, Isidore will know precisely where we are. For all we know, she could be seconds behind her scouts.

Then we’ll be forced to confront her without a plan.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Right now, we can only rely on luck.

Elaric must sense the fear pounding through my veins since his arms tighten around me. Or maybe it’s just his own trepidation.

Wings beat.

The crow whirs toward us.

I clutch Elaric’s tunic so tightly the fabric’s coarseness burns my palms.

The crow flies past us without slowing. Its cry fades into the woods.

thirty-four

We bolt through the trees, though neither of us is certain which direction we should take. We’re too lost in the trees’ depths to make out the contours of the land. And yet, we dare not stop moving, in case Isidore is scouring Eruweth for us this very moment, her crows having returned fruitless from their search.

The terrain veers sharply uphill. My strides falter, thighs burning in protest. Elaric is forced to slow his pace lest he lose me in this glimmering maze. I try quickening my steps, but the stabbing in my muscles intensifies.

“I can carry you,” Elaric offers.

“I doubt that would be wise,” I say, letting out a ragged breath. Talking and walking uphill is no easy feat, especially when one has fought a sea serpent barely an hour ago. “If Isidore finds us while I’m in your arms, how will you take the Ruposley quickly enough to restore your magic and fight her?”

“It would be fine if I carried you on my back.”

“Even so,” I say, “it would leave us vulnerable.”

He dips his head, reluctantly conceding.

We walk for perhaps half an hour more until the sharp incline levels, allowing me to better match Elaric’s tireless strides. But my relief fades as the trees begin to thin, leaving us exposed should Isidore’s spies return.

Yet we have no choice but to continue on. Isidore knows precisely where we landed thanks to Elaric’s magic, so turning back isn’t an option.

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