Emeline inched forward past Dada and Fish, peering inside the cavity. Then she gasped: there was a smooth silver pole running vertically through the hollowed wall.
“I am the king’s brother, Irwind,” Innish said shortly. He tore more stones from the wall, making the hole wide enough to step through. “Those fool Theurgists let my Ithin out. We are all responsible for…so much destruction…”
He reached inside the hollowed wall and grabbed hold of the pole with both hands. Then he slid down into the darkness, out of sight.
“Innish!” Dada cried out. They all crowded around the hole and stared down into the shadows. He was gone.
“Innish is the king’s brother?” Aladane exclaimed.
“How can he be?” Dale asked, looking back at Dada and Fish. “Wouldn’t the king know?”
“Maybe he doesn’t recognize him,” Emeline murmured. Irwind had run away to the Outer Lands years ago—or so the story went.
“ ‘His Ithin’?” Fish said, bewildered. “He’s just gone mad, Bird. He’s babbling!”
“Look at this pole, Fish,” Dada said quietly. “How did he know about this?”
“Maybe he’s been snooping around! I don’t know!”
“How could he have his own Ithin?” Dale exclaimed. “Does that mean he can control them?”
Dada rubbed his face, staring down after Innish. “Irwind was a scientist…an inventor,” he muttered. “Maybe…”
Emeline listened, thinking rapidly, gazing down into the secret entrance to the grove. If the guards were flooding it, then all the trees and plants would be wet.
Wet vines wrapping themselves around an Ithin’s head…
One form of magic battling another…
Reese was down there fighting monsters, and she could help. She could help! If she followed Innish—whether he was who he claimed or not—she could be there in an instant.
Without another thought, she grabbed on to the pole and threw her legs around it.
“Emeline!” Dada roared. He grabbed her by the sleeve, but she yanked free. Then she loosened her grip and she slid, surprisingly fast.
The silver was perfectly smooth and she dropped like a stone into nothingness. The others shouted down after her, their voices echoing. It was more like falling than sliding; her skirts flew up around her and her hands burned against the pole.
In a moment, she had landed, her feet striking dirt. Dizzy, she glanced upward and saw only darkness. She couldn’t hear the others calling anymore.
Before her was a large hole full of sunlight and she crawled through it, wincing at the burns on her hands. The stones of one of the grove paths lay in the dirt before her, and she followed them, hearing the water hoses in the distance, and smelling the fresh, frightening scent of the woods.
The age-old dread crept into her bones and she shivered. The tree branches blocked out the sky, and there was a mist in the air she knew must be from the hoses. Water dripped from the branches overhead and she stepped in a puddle, soaking her foot. Everything was quiet. There were no birds chirping, and she saw no one.
Where were the knights? Had they already destroyed the Ithin? Or been destroyed by them?
She heard a distant cry and gasped, her heart hammering. Every instinct told her to run away, to find a door and get back inside, but she was here to help Reese. She steeled herself and hurried toward the sound, walking off the path. Her boots sank into cold mud and she opened her arms to shake out her damp cloak.
A movement on either side made her freeze. She saw only dripping branches…but some of them were twisted toward her.
She dropped her arms, afraid to breathe, and the branches moved back, springing drops of water into the air. Her breath came out in a rush as she realized what had happened. She hadn’t even been trying! The energy was boiling inside her, right below the surface.
Slowly, she reached out an arm toward the trees, and a single branch stretched toward her. It cracked and groaned as it came.
There might be monsters in the world, but she had magic too.
She rushed forward again, faster, deeper and deeper into the woods. She went with her hands outstretched, and the branches followed, splintering and crunching as she passed. The power danced through her, crackling like lightning, thrilling and frightening at once. She felt like she was moving in a dream.
Then she saw a shape in the gloom ahead, lying in the mud—a figure in black armor. She froze, staring at the fallen knight in absolute horror.
But relief came quickly. It’s not him! The figure was too thin.
She stepped closer, breathing again. The knight’s helmet was askew, but not enough to see his face. His breastplate was battered, crushed inward. She realized the design was of two crossed blades.
Gundan. Pride of the city of Endan. Dead.
The breastplate had been beaten in right over his heart. They eat the hearts of men. An Ithin had tried to tear out his heart!
She reeled away from the dead knight. Would Reese’s armor not protect him?
She could hear herself panting now, and she closed her eyes and leaned against a tree trunk, trying to calm down.
There was a distant clang of metal on metal. Her eyes snapped open. A deep voice roared, and she ran toward the sound, plunging through mud and undergrowth, slogging through wetter and wetter grass. She could hear the hoses rushing, not far away now.
Then she heard Reese yell, heard the crack of his whip. She plunged through a cluster of soaking bushes and saw him. He was fighting a creature wrapped in a tattered, hooded cloak. The thing was nearly his height, but it was hunched over, its hooked forearms protruding from the cloak.
An Ithin.
It lunged and snapped its jaws, slicing at Reese’s shield with a horrible, metallic sound. It struck again and again, in strangely jerky movements. Reese kept putting ground between them, struggling to crack his whip.
“Reese!” Emeline screamed.
He whirled his whip around the Ithin’s neck suddenly and yanked it to its knees, but then he jerked his head up to see Emeline. The Ithin grasped the whip in its claws and pulled. Reese stumbled forward.
She threw out her arms at the nearest tree and its branches swept down. The wood smacked into the Ithin’s head as she swiped across the air, and she could almost feel the physical blow in her arm. The creature tumbled backward, Reese falling with it; he let go of his whip quickly and leaped to his feet.
There was a white-hot anger inside her. Tree branches beat the Ithin bodily, rolling it across the ground until the wet grass rose up and twisted over it. The thing hissed violently, clawing at the plants, and Reese snatched up his end of the whip. He jerked it tight as the Ithin rolled in the opposite direction—tearing its head clean from its body.
Emeline gasped as the Ithin’s head flew through the air—it landed with its fangs still gnashing. The headless body kicked and writhed on the ground.
Out of nowhere, white sparks shot out of the head. Emeline stumbled back. Reese swore. The Ithin’s hood came off as the head jolted and writhed on the ground, and the round, insect-like face lay exposed, its giant eyes blank and dark. The fangs fell apart and were still.
Then the tree branches slowly withdrew, the bark crackling as they settled. Reese stared at Emeline a moment and then he ran toward her, yanking off his helmet.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
He caught her up in his arms, and she kissed him without thinking, all her relief pouring out at once. He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her back, almost roughly; it set her whole body on fire. The world disappeared in a rush of dizzying warmth.
But then he pulled away and glanced around them quickly, shoving his helmet back on.
“Innish says he’s Irwind, the king’s brother,” she told him in a rush. “He showed me a shortcut into the grove.”
“Irwind?” Reese exclaimed. “Innish is Lord Irwind? What madness is that? Are you sure?”
Emeline nodded, breathless. The Ithin’s head sparked again, and she turned away, shuddering. Water was puddling around their feet.
“Reese, he called the Ithin ‘his,’ ” she added uncertainly. Reese grimaced and stared down at the monster lying in the mud.
“I always knew Innish had a secret…but I can’t believe it,” he said quietly. “He’s been my best guard for a whole year.”
sudden rustling broke out behind Emeline. She turned to see something spring from a tree—a mass of claws and a ratty cloak. She shrieked, but Reese swung his black shield in front of her and knocked the Ithin into the groundwater. He lashed his whip around its neck and broke it, just as another one slithered into view behind him.
Emeline swept out her arm and the nearest tree slammed its branches into the creature. The Ithin fell, and she whirled up several vines, flinging them around it. Hissing and snapping its fangs, it jerked its way toward her, crawling in the water. Then Reese slammed the edge of his shield down on its neck, slicing the head right off. Water and sparks flew.
Emeline wheeled to face the next one, but for the moment, everything was still.
“You should be in the tower,” Reese said sharply.
“I came to help you,” she insisted, and his eyes widened.
“To help me?” His voice was both angry and admiring.
“Look, the grove is really flooding now,” she pressed, as the muddy water visibly rose. Her feet felt numb inside her boots. “That’s why I knew I could help. Everything is wet.”
“Emeline,” he said, his voice catching in his throat. “I don’t want you to help. I want you safe in the tower.”
“I’m staying here!” she told him, clenching her fists. “I’m the one with magic, remember?”
He started to argue, but then he grabbed her arm, looking down at their feet. The water was inching up toward her knees.
“We should both go back,” he said quickly. “The water will stop the rest of them.” He scooped her up off her feet, her cloak dripping back into the dark water. Then he started off through the trees, brandishing his shield before them. All of her senses were strained, anticipating, dreading the next Ithin to appear.
Suddenly, an Ithin loomed out of the shadows. She screamed; Reese froze. She expected it to lunge at them—but it didn’t move. It stood there like a statue, its claws protruding crookedly from its cloak. Neither she nor Reese breathed.
In the dim light, she couldn’t quite make out its face. Did it not see them? It was drenched and streaming water. Was it dead, then? Did they die standing on their feet?
Reese took a cautious step forward as Emeline’s heart pounded. The Ithin was still. He took another step and then another, both of them staring at the inanimate creature.
Then Reese started to run again. Emeline twisted to look back over his shoulder, bewildered. Dead or alive, the Ithin did not follow. Turning back around, she realized she had no idea which direction the King’s Hall was, but he was splashing through the wood with assurance. They came to an opening in the trees and she saw that they were at the fork in the path with the fountain.
Without warning, a hissing Ithin sprang out before them. This one was alive for sure. It jerked forward and backward, as if confused and angry—steam burst from its head and it spasmed, struggling in the water.
Reese set her down quickly to fight, but she waved at the undergrowth and it swelled up, tripping the creature. It crashed into the groundwater, sparking and smoking. Reese stared down at it in disbelief.
“Are they machines?” he demanded.
Emeline shook her head, not comprehending. Her mind spun for a moment as Dada’s last words came back to her: Irwind was a scientist, an inventor….
Reese took her hand and they plunged onward, sloshing through the water. Soon they were passing windows with colored glass, some with faces pressed up against them. Emeline recognized the dining hall.
The thought suddenly reminded her of her family. She had counted on them being safe in the tower, but now a terrible realization struck her:
Dada was much more likely to have followed her.
Is he in the grove?
Emeline stared back behind them as Reese pulled her along, making for the archway that led to the first corridor. Its doors were closed tight against the rising groundwater.
Without warning, Innish stepped out onto the path, drenched to the bone, his limbs and beard dripping. He stood nearly as still as the inanimate Ithin, and in his eyes was a mixture of awe and fire that she had never seen. He wasn’t looking at them; his gaze was directed behind them.
Fear flooded her.
“There she is,” Innish said in a hushed tone. “The original.”
Reese and Emeline spun quickly. Her heart stopped at the sight of the weird thing that struggled through the water behind them.
It was an Ithin, but it was smaller and rattier than any she had seen. Its cloak and hood were totally unlike the others’: They looked more like an outer layer of flesh or hide than cloth. Its claws were clicking together and its head was weaving side to side. Its huge eyes were not blank, but bright and roving, taking in all three of the people in front of it.
Just as Emeline realized that its movements were fluid, not jerky and stiff, she was struck with a horrible stench. Rotting flesh! The smell that Dada and the others had described! She couldn’t breathe and Reese gagged.
It was like some ancient tomb had opened up—a tomb for something unnatural…but old as the land and sky.
Dark magic.
There was a magical spring deep inside of Emeline, but this thing was magic in and of itself. The difference struck her with a certainty that took her breath away.
Reese crouched as the creature writhed in front of them, not stiff and clumsy, but liquid like a shadow. She fought the instinct to run as it snapped its jaws at them and hissed. Even its hiss was different from the others’: It was much louder, and it sounded like many terrible voices whispering at once.
“Innish, what in the kingdom have you done?” Reese roared.
Before Innish could answer, the Ithin lunged forward. Reese’s whip cracked just as fast, stopping the creature midway. It hissed again and clicked its claws.
Frantic, Emeline summoned the grass beneath the water. It shot upward, wrapping around the Ithin’s legs; the monster let out a gurgling cry and fought against the wet, clinging grass.
“That’s right, trap her!” Innish shouted.
Reese slashed his whip around the Ithin too. The grass and whip tangled around the creature, and it cried out again, an eerie, strangled scream. Emeline shivered, her blood running cold.
All at once, the Ithin threw itself forward and crashed into them, knocking them down into the water. Emeline caught a muddy mouthful before she struggled to her feet.
Still snarled in the grass, the Ithin was on Reese’s chest, wrestling with him. Its claws found the skin between his helmet and his neck, and blood sprayed, shockingly red. Innish shouted from somewhere nearby. Desperately, Emeline flung up whatever plants she could command from the water.
No! Don’t kill him!
Then a shovel swung through the air, knocking the Ithin off the knight—it was Dada, looking wild with terror. Reese staggered up and clapped his hand on his wounded throat.
The hall doors were open; Dada had come flying out of them, brandishing the first thing he found. Fish rushed out behind him with his bullet-gun, just as two more of Irwind’s Ithin emerged from the trees. He fired at the first one, and Emeline’s ears rang with the sound. The Ithin’s left eye flashed and exploded; it dropped stiffly to the ground as Fish aimed at the second.
“Get inside!” he roared. “Come on!”
But the real Ithin turned toward Dada,
hissing and shrieking, its horrible stench thick in the air.
“No!” Emeline shouted. Panic smothered her as he stepped back, gripping the shovel, the monster advancing. She heard Fish fire again and curse; heard Reese roaring something she couldn’t make out.
I won’t let you hurt Dada!
With all her might, she strained her arms at the nearest tree and heaved—not at its branches, but at the base of its massive trunk. Energy snapped through her, searing the air, tearing at the soaked, twisted roots beneath the ground.
Not Dada! Never!
Her hair rose from her scalp, heat swallowing her up.
The great tree groaned and rocked forward, tilting wildly toward the Ithin. Irwind and Dada cried out at the sight, just as Reese slashed his whip across the Ithin’s back. The creature gave an ear-splitting screech.
Emeline pulsed with the enormous effort…with the incredible force of the magic. She felt as if she hovered above the ground. Wonderful and awful, it was too much; her muscles were screaming. It was impossible. She couldn’t do it—could she?
With an explosion of shattering bark, the tree fell. It smashed down upon the Ithin with an impact that shook the entire grove, sending a wave of groundwater into the air.
She collapsed into the filthy water herself, streaks of light across her vision. There were shouts and two more gunshots. Then Reese and Dada were grabbing hold of her arms, pulling her to her feet. Bless water, they were both still alive.
She stumbled as they ran for the doorway, pushing past the giant network of tree roots exposed to the air. She glanced back at the trunk across the path and saw nothing of the Ithin underneath. It was gone.
Then she was dimly aware of being suddenly inside, of Reese slamming the doors shut. He shoved a thick bar down across the handles to lock them.
The group of them stood there for a long moment, in shock. The corridor was flooded from all the water that had come in; Emeline stared down at the tiles blankly.
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