Still clutching Mavery’s hand, Ellice stretched her free arm upward. Just as Alain’s had done a moment ago, her hand reappeared long enough to grab the hem of Neldren’s coat. It wasn’t skin-on-skin contact, but it was enough. The veil overtook him, too.
A shot rang out. The coach had outrun the highwaymen, so they’d resorted to opening fire.
“Nel, grab Evrard and don’t let go!” Mavery cried.
Neldren groaned as he released his injured arm and grasped Evrard’s shoulder.
Another gunshot ripped through the forest.
A bullet passed through where the Evrard’s chest had been corporeal not even a heartbeat earlier.
Mavery looked to Alain again. He shuddered as he focused on extending the veil to the reins, then each of the four horses. But not once did she feel a pull against her arcana. He was channeling everything he had into this single spell.
“What in the ever-loving fuck?” the leader cried. “They’re gone!”
Mavery looked down. Though Alain’s spell hadn’t healed Neldren’s wound, his blood had turned incorporeal and no longer left a trail. The coach’s wheels and the horses’ hooves had also stopped leaving tracks.
“Stop the carriage,” she said.
“Are you out of your godsdamned mind?” Neldren barked. “They’ll close in on us!”
“Again, just trust me.”
Whether he actually did trust her, or he was simply following the first order he was given, Evrard pulled the reins. The stagecoach gradually rolled to a stop.
As Mavery had hoped, the highwaymen didn’t notice. They continued onward for a dozen or so yards before the two men stopped. Kella pressed on, charged past them at a full gallop. But when she realized she was the only one still giving chase, she yanked her horse to a halt.
“Come on!” she called to the other two. “They must be hiding in the shadows.”
“But I shot the shadow mage,” Bast called back.
“They must’ve had another one hiding in the carriage. Check the shadows again.”
“I did! I don’t know what made them disappear, but it ain’t shadow magic.”
“Then they must’ve kept going. If we hurry, maybe we can catch up and—”
“Andwhat?” the Nilandoren snapped. “For all we know, they’re out of the woods—and out of our jurisdiction.”
“But—”
“If you want to try collecting a toll in Corryn territory, be my guest,” the Nilandoren said. “But it’ll be your funeral.”
“It ain’t worth it, Kel,” Bast said. “They’re long gone.”
They both turned their horses around and trotted down the trail.
“Can’t believe I wasted an arrow on those bastards,” Bast grumbled.
Kella continued to linger in the center of the road. She gazed at the path ahead while her horse grunted indignantly. Finally, with a growl, she turned and followed the others. She led her horse through the center of the carriage, passing directly through Mavery’s incorporeal body.
Alain’s breathing was labored, his body trembled as he held the veil in place. Much too slowly, the hoofbeats and disgruntled voices faded.
“They’re gone,” Neldren announced at long last.
“Ellice, let go,” Alain rasped.
She released Neldren’s coat. All at once, everything—from the vehicle to the horses—turned solid again. Had Ellice not moved her hand, it would have become fused within the coach’s inner wall. The horses squealed at the sudden change, and the coach jostled as its wheels settled into the dirt. Out front, Neldren roared incredulous laughter while Evrard began to sob. Ellice opened the door, flung herself out of the coach, and swung up onto the driver’s seat.