Fly by Midnight (11 page)

“I felt a storm coming in last night. Thought I would leave it as a surprise.”

“How kind of you.” She crawled out of her bedding and straddled a branch while packing up her stuff. “What? No breakfast?”

“Hey, I haven’t been up that long. I’ll let you brew up some coffee for us this morning, learn how to use the stones for yourself. Add a little earth magic to your repertoire.” He grinned.

She tossed her pack to the ground. “No problem. I can do coffee.”

But the quiet morning didn’t last long. A noise in the woods caught their attention. A muffled rustling, followed by a growling sound, drifted from the trees. Ren scrambled to climb up the low branches. Three majestic white wolves with haunting icy-blue eyes prowled from the trees and surrounded them. “Looks like we have company.”

“What do we do now?” Honora could always fly out of the clearing, but she wouldn’t strand Ren up in a tree, literally. The wolves were between him and his snowcraft. “I can lure them back into the trees while you climb down and jump on the craft,” she said. “Bait and switch.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Honora flew down, snatched her pack from the ground, and took to the air. She made a few low, swooping passes to draw the animals’ attention and get them nice and antagonized. Who needed coffee when she had an angry wolf pack to wake her up in the morning? She made another low sweep, and the wolves chased her into the woods. She waited for the sound of the snowcraft, but nothing came. The wolves raced behind her, paws thumping in the snow, but there was still no sound from the camp. Concern welled inside her. Suddenly a loud boom of magic shook the trees, and a cascade of snow drifted down her back.

She jerked upward and launched her body through the air back to the campsite. Within minutes Honora saw another pack of wolves surrounding Ren. His back was pressed against a tree. They’d been tricked. The wolf pack had been divided all along, and the second group had come after Ren once Honora was gone. Clever animals.

Ren pulled two curved knives with glowing blades from his belt. The wolves charged, and he moved with the grace of a practiced fighter, slicing through the air with the magical knives extended as if they were part of his body. The wolves growled and snapped with razor-sharp teeth. He blocked and spun, avoiding countless bites. A wolf howled, taking a hit to the snout with the hilt of Ren’s knife. The animal was lucky it wasn’t the blade.

Honora dove directly at the alpha wolf, shoving him backwards with a blast of energy from her staff. She pulled up and circled back. Two more wolves advanced and attacked Ren, ripping through his coat with their sharp teeth. Up close, the animals dwarfed the guide. Like the crows, the wolves in the North were also larger than any she had ever seen before. But he sliced through the air with his blade, sending a sheet of sharp energy at the animals through their coats and drawing blood. The animals growled and circled him, but slowly eased away, not wanting to chance another attack from the wizard, who was turning out to be a seriously good fighter.

The wolf pack retreated.

Honora threw two more blasts at the alpha wolf, and he growled as he drifted away. The blasts weren’t meant to kill, but they were painful, like a punch of magic and a shock of stinging energy. Honora felt a wash of relief, but it was short-lived. She had a tense feeling this wasn’t over. The wolves had been organized, too organized. There had to be easier prey out there for a pack of hungry wolves.
Why attack us?

Ren stumbled to his feet and slipped the knives back into his belt sheath. He wiped sweat from his brow and smiled up at her, but his expression wavered. His attention jerked toward the trees, sensing movement. With a quickness that took her breath away, Honora saw a glowing arrow slice through the air from the tree line and pierce his suit right in the shoulder.

“Ren!” she screamed.

His body convulsed as he fell to his knees and grabbed the arrow. The shaft stuck out of his shoulder, blood spreading in a growing circle on his coat. Honora gasped and lunged forward, desperate to help him. She tried to run to his side, but a barrage of arrows filled the snowy clearing, forcing her to dive for cover in the trees. The arrows glowed with golden tips, a magical weapon of the forest. Her heart raced. She scanned the area, searching for the archer.

An earth witch dressed in a brown suede and fur coat cut close to her tall, lean body jumped down from her perch in a nearby tree. Her long hair fell in two woven braids that reached her waist. An enormous bow was hung over one shoulder, and a quiver filled with magical arrows was over the other. A thick hunting knife was strapped to her thigh. Even decked out in winter survival attire, she moved with a stealthy grace, prowling closer, at home in the wild. Dangerous as an animal, she notched another arrow and aimed it at Ren.

A ball of fear exploded in Honora’s chest. “No!” she screamed, and launched herself from her hiding place, soaring at the witch, tackling her to the ground. The bow flew from her hands with a thump into the snow. Honora and the witch tumbled to the ground and scrambled in a thrashing of arms and legs. The earth witch kicked and spun Honora around, pinning her to the ground, but she bucked and threw the witch into the air. Honora raced forward, grabbed the back of the witch’s head, and shoved her face into the snow.

When she looked up, Ren was gone. Only a bloody stain in the white snow was left as a reminder in his wake. The trees rustled. Relief flooded over her.

He’d escaped.

The witch reared up and elbowed Honora in the stomach, causing her to double over and gasp for breath. The attacker grabbed her bow and took off running after Ren into the woods. Honora had given him a few seconds’ head start at best, and now he was on his own. She sunk down to her knees, catching her breath. Her body tensed as she realized she wasn’t alone.

11

A
twig snapped. Honora spun around, but the clearing was empty. Cold air pierced her lungs. Her lips trembled. The fight had left her tense as a spring. She lifted off the ground, found a perch on a tree limb, and scanned the area. Heavy footfalls approached. She felt a subtle vibration as the tree she was standing on shook. Someone was coming. The pine branches parted around a huge wizard.

His hands were thick and coarse, knuckles bloody and split. He carried a staff—a thick piece of carved wood the sized of a sapling. A plume of smoky breath passed through red lips, a pipe clenched between his teeth. He had a thick head of black hair and a heavy beard that trailed down to his belt. His clothes were mottled green and brown leather and looked like the forest had grown on him. In fact, on closer look, his beard and hair were woven with lichen and moss. His eyes were silver and shone hard as diamonds.

Honora had found the Woodsman. Walking by his side was the largest white wolf she’d ever seen. Fear pulsed through her. There was still no sign of Ren, and she hoped that, even injured, the experienced guide could survive on his own. But she had a choice to make and hoped she wouldn’t regret it. Fighting her desire to help Ren, she decided to follow the Woodsman. She took flight to keep up with him, navigating the crowded treetops as he moved assuredly through the forest.

Below her, she heard growling. The wolf stopped and pointed its snout in her direction. Honora hovered about twenty feet off the ground in between the tall pines. The Woodsman’s silvery eyes focused on her like a scope. She didn’t have a chance to hide. Flying or not, it was time to face the earth wizard.

“I’ve come seeking a powerful wizard,” Honora said, lowering before him. “Are you the Woodsman of the North Station?” Her throat was dry.

He pulled the thick handle of an enchanted ax from a sheath attached to his back. His gaze pierced her like an arrow. Tentatively, she flew closer, lowering herself to his level so they could talk. “I mean no harm. I ask for an audience. Just a few moments of your time.” Honora bowed her head in respect.

He lowered the ax and fished something out of his pocket. He swung a cord around and around, raised his arm, and threw the trap right at her. She jerked upward, dodging the snare that was made of two wooden balls connected by a string, meant to tangle and trap prey in midair and bring it down. Young witches and wizards in the city called them whippers and used them when training or fighting.

Honora flew a safe distance from the Woodsman. No way was she giving up yet. “I’ve come with an urgent message. I’m looking for an important wizard, Jonathan Rainer. It’s imperative that I speak with him. The safety of Everland depends on it. Perhaps he’s a friend of yours?”

“I have no friends,” he said gruffly.

Not if you keep throwing dangerous objects, you won’t
.

He held his ax high, pointing it at her, and a strange coil of sounds spooled from his lips. The rich earth magic rolled off his tongue and a bolt of energy flew from the head of his weapon. Honora jerked out of the path but was too late and took a hit of magical energy. Her entire body froze in midair, and she dropped to the ground, landing with a thud on the snowy forest floor. Pain jolted through her body. He hurled his ax toward her, and the magical blade rung with a piercing sound in her eardrums. She recovered instantly, forced to dodge the weapon. He missed, but just barely, the edge of the blade shredding the pack right off her back. One inch closer and she would have been sliced in half.

Frustration and anger fueled her. She just wanted to talk, not kill each other, but fighting worked too, if that was what it would take. Honora dodged another spell and took cover behind a huge trunk. Her pulse quickened. When she peered around the tree, she saw the Woodsman barreling toward her.
Enough.
She spun out from behind the tree and charged, leaping at the last second and somersaulting over his head. Landing on the ground, she pulled her wand from her sleeve and shot a series of stinger spells, hitting him in the leg. The Woodsman lurched forward, grabbing his thigh before regaining his footing.

“Please, stop! I just want to talk!” she yelled in exhaustion. She doubled over, her lungs burning. The brutal cold had stiffened her body, making it harder to fly. “Give me a second.”

His eyes glowed, and he bared his teeth like an animal. After digging in his pocket, he stretched his hand out to her, holding a collection of ragged teeth and fangs in his palm. Through his cracked lips he uttered a spell and threw them at Honora’s feet. Smoke and bone rose from the snow, growing and spreading until the skeleton of a bear reared up on its hind legs. The skeleton bear roared, its sharp teeth glistening. Its claws scraped through the icy ground as if it were butter. Stunned, Honora stumbled backwards, awe and fear racing through her.

Honora thrust her body, but she couldn’t get enough lift to fly out of the way. She scrambled, her feet slipping on the slick snow. She pushed back on her butt, but the bear galloped toward her with astonishing speed, shortening the space between them in a few bounds. She threw spells at it, trying to knock it off course, but it kept coming. Her body pitched forward into a snowdrift. She lifted up into the air, moving any way she could, making pathetic swimming motions through the air. Her feet skidded, unable to navigate the snowy terrain. The skeleton bear galloped after her, its bones grinding in a sickening rhythm.

Barnaby screamed from the sky above her. She glanced over her shoulder right as her familiar dove at the bear, snatching at it with his talons.

Unable to outrun the magical creature, Honora knew she had to break the spell. Her mind raced with ideas. The magic was strong, but it wasn’t flawless. All spells had a weakness, and staring at the huge skeleton gave her an idea. “Steal a bone! Steal a bone!” she yelled to Barnaby. If he could get one of the bones, the structure would collapse, or at least she hoped so. The bear stopped in mid-gallop, roared up, and swatted at the owl. Honora leaned against a tree for support. There was no way she could get close enough to the beast. Her rest was short-lived, because the bear refocused, sniffed the air, and raced toward her. Needing to fly, lifting off the ground through screaming muscles and burning lungs, Honora rose high into the pines until she breached the forest and reached the clear blue sky.

The cool air washed over her sweat-drenched face. Barnaby made another pass but couldn’t get close enough to the bear to snatch a precious bone. They were trapped in the sky.

The wolf howled, and the bear roared. The Woodsman charged, shooting spells from his staff. His arsenal of earth magic was too much for her. He paced the ground beneath her. Exhaustion overwhelmed her. Unable to maintain her altitude, Honora slowly sank.

“Are we going to keep fighting, or will you listen to me?” she asked. She couldn’t keep this up, but she couldn’t leave.

He stood on an outcrop of rock, watching her with his shining silver eyes.

“Everland needs your help. I need your help.”

He tilted his head, and his gaze shone hard, without pity or kindness. Not a good sign. He made an arcing motion with his staff and whispered a spell she couldn’t hear. Something was coming. A sticky substance welled up on the pine needles that brushed her body, clinging to her suit, weighing her down. The more she spun, the more the sap stuck to her and the heavier she got.

“No!” she screamed. She tried to fly out of the sticky mess but couldn’t. There were too many branches, and they were all suddenly covered in the substance.

Her body grew heavy. Panic pulsed through her. She kicked and screamed, trying to keep her elevation, but she couldn’t fight it. The weight was too much. Her limbs were glued to her side, and she plummeted like a stone to the forest floor. Her back thudded against a tree when she landed. She gasped for breath, the impact knocking the wind out of her lungs. She sprawled on the snowy ground like a bug trapped in amber. Grabbing a handful of snow, she rubbed the icy clump over her suit, trying to wash off the sap. What she couldn’t wipe off stuck in freezing clumps.

The Woodsman towered over her a few yards away, the ax held in one muscular hand. Her entire body trembled. She rose wearily to her feet, ready to face him again. He raised his arm; the enchanted ax head glimmered. The blade was mesmerizing. It was a beautiful weapon. He reared back and threw it. The ax soared with such violent force that Honora knew this was the end, unless….

She had only one chance left.

“Hazel’s Heart!” She yelled the activation spell and her shield sprang to life.

The ax head slammed into the magical barrier with a burst of sparks, shooting a spiderweb pattern through the ward like cracked glass. The blade was inches from her face, but the spell held.
Just barely
, she thought. Her legs felt like jelly, but she stayed upright. No way was she going to collapse now.

The Woodsman glared as he and his white wolf familiar strode toward her. The wolf growled, showing yellowed fangs.

Honora barely moved. Her gaze trained on the Woodsman, she felt the ground shake as he stood inches from her and reached up to grasp the ax handle. His chest and shoulders were wider than Slader’s, and he was the biggest wizard she knew.

The ax shimmered when he freed it from the shield. The blade was covered in beautifully carved runes. The Woodsman stared at her with wonder. Her shield was toast. She muttered the counter spell, and what was left of the shield disappeared in a shower of sparks. There was nothing between them but air.

“Now is the end. You can’t fight me.” He showed no acknowledgement that she was a living, breathing witch. For whatever reason, she was the enemy here. Protecting the station was his sworn duty. There was no talking, reasoning, or explaining to be done. He had one mission—to keep her from the station, killing her if need be.

“I can’t beat you. I’ll fight for my life if I have to.” Her shoulders slumped. She was spent, outmatched. Ren was wounded in the forest somewhere, alone. Regret and heartache filled her. She would have to fight this last time on her own. She reached down and pulled the knife from her boot and crouched in a defensive stance.

Barnaby circled, screaming from the sky.

“There is dignity in a death well fought.” The huge wizard gripped his ax and swayed before her, waiting. Honora struck first, racing up in a full-force attack with a series of body blows. She spun around and dodged the hilt of his ax, sending him off balance. Her small size was an advantage against a much larger opponent.

“Tell me where Jonathan Rainer is. I came to help him,” she said. If he wouldn’t talk, at least he’d have to listen. A flicker of recognition at hearing the wizard’s name again made the Woodsman pause, and she pounced. She grabbed the ax with one hand, pulled him down to the ground, and flipped him over on his back. Next, she leapt on his chest and shoved her boot under his chin. “I think Wizard Rainer is in danger. I’m here to find and warn him.” She shook her head. “I’m not your enemy. I know who you are, and I need your help. You’re the warden of the wall, the Woodsman, and I give you my word, I’ve come in peace,” she said, her eyes begging.

The wolf growled, but Honora didn’t move. The Woodsman reared up and shook her off with ease, but made no move to attack her; instead, his expression softened. “You are brave and foolish, but strong of spirit.” He lowered his ax. “You are also right. I’m the Woodsman. No one seeks me. It’s my duty to protect the wall and to maintain the North Woods Station. I’ll accept your word for now, but I warn you, do not challenge me. Lie, and you will regret it.”

“Who was the other witch? Was she your guardian?” The image of the archer flashed through her mind. Her eyes narrowed. “She attacked my guide.” Honora felt a dull ache in her stomach when she thought of Ren.

“Yes, Alexis. She’s a very powerful and cunning fighter. I hope she hasn’t killed your companion. We’ll return to the station and meet up with her.”

“Where’s the wall? My map showed no magic.”

His barrel chest shook with laughter. “No magic. You’re a funny witch.” He rubbed his beard. “It’s all magic. Everywhere. You have to
see
it. The way we see it.” He tapped his cheek under his silver eye. “Your map was good, too good. You and your guide are accomplished trackers. Most never even find us, but you got too close. That’s why we came to
convince
you to leave, to keep you from finding the station.” The Woodsman was not exactly the warm and fuzzy kind of wizard.

Honora grabbed what was left of her pack out of the snow. “Can you help me find Jonathan Rainer, or have I come for nothing? I just need to know if he’s here,” she said. Warden or no warden, she had a job to do, and she was getting answers.

A horn blew. The Woodsman pulled her to her feet. “We must go now.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” The wizard slung his ax over his shoulder. The white wolf fell in stride as he walked toward the sound of the horn. “At least tell me where I can find my guide,” Honora implored. She needed to regroup, rest, and find Ren. “He saved my life back there when you and your pack of familiars attacked us. I’d be dead if it weren’t for him.”

“I will send word to Alexis to bring him to our destination. Dead or alive.” The Woodsman trudged through the forest, and she hurried to keep up. The Woodsman spoke a strange language that sounded a lot like growling. The white wolf barked and then darted into the forest. The wizard waved his staff, and the skeleton bear collapsed into a small pile of bones and teeth that he scooped up and put into his pocket.