from here.” Ashra tossed her head anxiously, her feet pawing at the empty air. Without Scout, her razor-sharp wit had all but disappeared, and now she was almost polite.
It was terrifying.
“We can try to go around the back. If we stay in the shadows…” Torz suggested half-heartedly, but even he didn’t have any faith in that plan.
It hadn’t worked before. Ariston had sent his soul stealers after them the last time they’d gotten too close. But Trey had seen her, as they fought the demons off. Scout was in there, and she was alive. She had been dancing, unaware of him only a hundred yards away. Ariston had been so distracted watching her that he hadn’t thought to send his soul stealers after them until she’d finished and collapsed on the floor.
Dancing. That was it. “We wait until Scout dances.”
Ashra had already explained that Ariston would force her to dance because it would soothe the Taraxippus and the souls. He’d never liked noise, Ashra said, and their constant wailing had to wear on him after so many hundreds of years. When she danced, she held them all enthralled, even Ariston.
Torz glanced at Ashra, and she snorted. “Your rider might be useful yet.”
They got close enough that they could see into the castle’s many windows, but not close enough that Ariston could sense them and send his demons. It also wasn’t close enough that Ashra could talk to Scout, and it wasn’t close enough to see anything except a toy-size version of the girl he loved when she moved into the center of the floor. They spent the day in the shadows, watching. Scout did not dance. Long into the night, Torz and Ashra took turns sleeping while the other kept watch.
But Trey didn’t sleep. He rarely blinked. He ran his fingers against the leather bracelets on his wrist and prayed he’d have the chance to add another.
An entire day passed. Torz left to find food, they ate, and Trey watched. And prayed. And begged her in his mind to keep fighting, to not give up. And in his sleep-deprived brain, he started having conversations with her. “Scout? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you must hate me. I know I deserve it. I pushed you too far. But if you could just not give up on me, then I promise I’ll get you out of this.”
Sometimes, he imagined her answer. Sometimes, he didn’t like her answer. Other times, it wasn’t so bad. “Trey,” she would say, her sea-foam green eyes glinting mischievously. “When have I ever needed someone to get me out of anything? Just give me time. I’ll get myself out.” He imagined stroking her long, silky curls. The feel of it against his rough fingers. She’d lay her head against his shoulder and wind her fingers through his, and he could listen to her breathe and know she was alive.
“She’s up. She’s stretching. That means she’s going to dance, right?” Ashra’s voice held more hope than Trey had heard in all the days they’d been trying to figure out how to get Scout out.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” He remembered the last time he’d seen Scout stretching. In the gym, in school, a lifetime ago. She’d hated him then, more than she did now. She'd enjoyed watching him make a fool out of himself in front of the entire football team and the drill team.
Now both those teams were probably all trapped inside the castle with her. Kasen and Cole, Trey’s two best friends. Coach Cavenaugh. Kamille, Scout’s drill coach.
“She’s dancing. Let’s go.” Ashra’s wings snapped out, and she leaped into the sky, soaring silently through the mist, clinging to the shadows. Trey ducked low against Torz’s back as they followed her. She went high, fighting her way up, far above the reaching turrets of the castle, and then over the top and down the other side, inch by inch, her wings rocking her back and forth against the current. It took too long. Trey knew Scout had to be hurting. She couldn’t dance forever. They had to hurry.
“Hurry, Ashra. Hurry.”
It was terrifying.
“We can try to go around the back. If we stay in the shadows…” Torz suggested half-heartedly, but even he didn’t have any faith in that plan.
It hadn’t worked before. Ariston had sent his soul stealers after them the last time they’d gotten too close. But Trey had seen her, as they fought the demons off. Scout was in there, and she was alive. She had been dancing, unaware of him only a hundred yards away. Ariston had been so distracted watching her that he hadn’t thought to send his soul stealers after them until she’d finished and collapsed on the floor.
Dancing. That was it. “We wait until Scout dances.”
Ashra had already explained that Ariston would force her to dance because it would soothe the Taraxippus and the souls. He’d never liked noise, Ashra said, and their constant wailing had to wear on him after so many hundreds of years. When she danced, she held them all enthralled, even Ariston.
Torz glanced at Ashra, and she snorted. “Your rider might be useful yet.”
They got close enough that they could see into the castle’s many windows, but not close enough that Ariston could sense them and send his demons. It also wasn’t close enough that Ashra could talk to Scout, and it wasn’t close enough to see anything except a toy-size version of the girl he loved when she moved into the center of the floor. They spent the day in the shadows, watching. Scout did not dance. Long into the night, Torz and Ashra took turns sleeping while the other kept watch.
But Trey didn’t sleep. He rarely blinked. He ran his fingers against the leather bracelets on his wrist and prayed he’d have the chance to add another.
An entire day passed. Torz left to find food, they ate, and Trey watched. And prayed. And begged her in his mind to keep fighting, to not give up. And in his sleep-deprived brain, he started having conversations with her. “Scout? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you must hate me. I know I deserve it. I pushed you too far. But if you could just not give up on me, then I promise I’ll get you out of this.”
Sometimes, he imagined her answer. Sometimes, he didn’t like her answer. Other times, it wasn’t so bad. “Trey,” she would say, her sea-foam green eyes glinting mischievously. “When have I ever needed someone to get me out of anything? Just give me time. I’ll get myself out.” He imagined stroking her long, silky curls. The feel of it against his rough fingers. She’d lay her head against his shoulder and wind her fingers through his, and he could listen to her breathe and know she was alive.
“She’s up. She’s stretching. That means she’s going to dance, right?” Ashra’s voice held more hope than Trey had heard in all the days they’d been trying to figure out how to get Scout out.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” He remembered the last time he’d seen Scout stretching. In the gym, in school, a lifetime ago. She’d hated him then, more than she did now. She'd enjoyed watching him make a fool out of himself in front of the entire football team and the drill team.
Now both those teams were probably all trapped inside the castle with her. Kasen and Cole, Trey’s two best friends. Coach Cavenaugh. Kamille, Scout’s drill coach.
“She’s dancing. Let’s go.” Ashra’s wings snapped out, and she leaped into the sky, soaring silently through the mist, clinging to the shadows. Trey ducked low against Torz’s back as they followed her. She went high, fighting her way up, far above the reaching turrets of the castle, and then over the top and down the other side, inch by inch, her wings rocking her back and forth against the current. It took too long. Trey knew Scout had to be hurting. She couldn’t dance forever. They had to hurry.
“Hurry, Ashra. Hurry.”
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