Page 99 of The High Mountain Court

The blue witch’s eyes were closed, but her face tilted up to the window where Remy watched. Remy didn’t know how honed the witch’s Sight was, but if she was powerful, she might have Seen the outcomes of this ambush already. Remy would need to change things up to stay ahead of the blue witch. She could not choose whatever decision came first to her mind. She needed to pick the second option, then the first, then alternate. It was a trick that she had learned from Heather to keep ahead of the blue witches’ Sight. But Remy would have to take the blue witch out if they had any hopes of escaping them. Remy could lose the soldiers in the woods, but she wouldn’t be able to outrun the blue witch’s Sight.

A sudden punishing blow landed at the back of Remy’s head as she collided with the stone floor. A guard lifted his sword over her, and she threw out her magic, blasting his weapon out of his hand. Heavy boots shifted behind her. Watching Hale had distracted her. She tried to scramble to her feet, but his heavy boot stomped her down, and she screamed as her arm buckled under the force of the hit. She threw another blast of magic, the pain amplifying her power. The soldier fell backward.

Remy leapt up. Her left arm throbbed with pain. She thanked the Gods it wasn’t broken.

She let it hang limply at her side as she looked behind her. A dozen Northern soldiers stood on the landing opposite her, swords in hand, waiting. The one she had toppled stood and smiled at her, wiping blood from his mouth. They trapped her against the wall. Her first instinct was to run up the stairs to her left. So she didn’t. She flung out her hand and toppled the archway to the back of the waiting soldiers. Three fell under the heavy rocks, but the others turned. Remy feinted toward the stairs upward, and the soldiers moved in the same direction. Instead, Remy spun, running downward. She knew in one more flight the crumpled stairway below would trap her once more. Heavy armor clanked, following her down as she darted to the left.

She sprinted for the open window, holding her breath, not giving herself a chance to think as she willed her legs faster. And then she leapt into nothing but air.

She free fell, the wind whipping her hair. The world slowed as she calculated her trajectory toward the fir tree out the window. She prayed its branches would hold her as she braced for impact. Pine needles assaulted her as she smacked into the tree. Her injured shoulder screamed at her as she tumbled past several more branches. She caught herself with her one good arm.

She darted a look at the window. The Northern soldiers watched her, mouths gaping. They were all weighted down in heavy armor. None would dare to make that jump.

She clambered across the branches to another tree, deeper into the forest. She decided to cross two more before climbing down. Then she remembered the blue witch and changed her mind, climbing across one more branch and making her way to the forest floor.

She needed to get to Hale and her bow and arrow still with the horses. She needed to get to the amulet too. She wished she had heeded Hale and taken it for herself. Her magic was already fatigued, and she had little left in her.

Circling the temple clearing, she took a deep breath and tiptoed through the woods. She listened to the shouts from the top of the temple. The soldiers were shouting to the ones on the ground that they were clearing the stairwell. That it would take time.

She heard everything: their armor clanking, the branches creaking as more soldiers bashed through the woods ahead, leaves rustling under their feet.

Then she heard a shout: “We’ve got the prince.”

Remy’s heart stopped.

Moving on silent feet, she neared the woods behind where they had tied their horses. She ducked behind a spiky shrub and peered above it. Like she was a bloodhound for that ocean scent, she could smell Hale through the forest.

Hale sat bound and gagged against a tree trunk, surrounded by three guards. His head slumped forward, blood trickling down his forehead. Remy zeroed in on the sound of his slow heartbeat and steady breaths. He was unconscious but alive.

Another two Northern fae rummaged through the horses’ saddlebags. Remy’s bow and quiver of arrows remained untouched, tied to her pack. Her fingers itched for it. One soldier pulled up the long chain of the amulet of Aelusien.

Remy clenched her teeth together, watching as the soldier whistled to a male standing in the tall grasses by the temple. His silver hair and flowing cerulean cape told Remy he was the unit commander. The commander nodded to the amulet.

“Good. Keep looking for the ring,” he ordered. Another soldier stepped up to him. “Let’s hear it.”

“Twenty-two injured, eight dead,” the male said. “We’re waiting to hear the final numbers from inside, they’re still digging them out.”

Remy grimaced. She had done that . . . well, some of it. Most of the death count was Hale’s. The enormity of his power confronted Remy once more. He had taken on a complete unit of trained fae soldiers and almost escaped.

“Go get that blue witch. Everything she predicted has been wrong,” the commander snarled. “King Vostemur will be most displeased to hear of her failing.”

That cruel snarl said enough. They would either kill the witch or make her wish they had killed her, through no fault of her Sight but because Remy knew how to outwit it.

“Have you found the red witch yet?” the commander mused, looking up at the open window Remy had jumped out of.

The witch. . . did they still not know it was her? How could that be? She was in a fae form using red witch magic . . . But people only saw what they wanted to see. The High Mountain fae were gone. They believed it was Raffiel, not Remini, who lived. They were hunting her as a red witch, not as a princess.

“She fled through the trees, but we’ll find her, Commander,” the soldier replied.

They would start tracking her scent any minute. The soldiers could scent her from there if they thought to try, but they assumed she was long gone. They did not think a little witch would double back on an entire unit of fae soldiers. She probably should have. Hale would have wanted her to. But she could not leave him behind.

Never.

The battle had thoroughly depleted her magic. She wondered if she could get to the amulet. She reached out with a tiny thread of power and felt for the amulet’s chain in the pocket of the soldier still digging through the saddlebags. Nothing responded. Not a hint or a tug. They had charmed the amulet against such things. It would have been far too easy to reach it if a red witch could have simply floated the necklace across that poison lake and into their possession. Remy chewed on her cheek. What was her plan? Should she try to grab Hale and drag his limp body on top of a horse, all the while fending off a dozen trained soldiers?

It would be easier if he were conscious. No. She needed her bow and arrows. She could pick them off from the safety of the trees, buy them some time until Hale regained consciousness.

She reached out her thread of power again. It took all her focus to loosen the leather cord around her bow without notice. Her magic held it in place like nothing had happened while she untied the quiver. She closed her eyes, holding the sensation of what she was trying to achieve in her mind. Toppling walls and trees seemed impressive, but making small, intricate movements was much more draining. The weapons hung in the air as if the cord still secured them.

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