Recurve

“Whatever will let you sleep at night, you go ahead and believe,” I snapped, straddling my legs, one forward and one back, to brace myself for his next attack.

His hand flicked, green glow flashing in a pulse that I didn’t recognize until too late. The ivy growing along the edge of the raised mound snaked across the grass and jerked me from my feet. I swung my spear, cutting through it, but not fast enough.

Granite swung his two swords in a cross-blade blow meant to remove heads. I knew. I’d seen him do it to the dummies in the training room. I threw myself backward, unable to take my eyes from the swords as they cut in front of my face, the tips of them nicking me under the chin.

I let out a yelp and tried to roll, but the vines crawled over me, tightening their grip over my arms and legs, keeping me from doing anything that might save my ass. Panic reared its ugly head, making me babble. “Granite, don’t do this. I can stop her. You’ll be free of your oath if she’s dead.”

He barked out a bitter laugh. “No, I won’t. Oaths hold until the person who made them die, Lark, not until the person they made them to die. I made an oath to her that I cannot break.”

Panic flooded me as he stood over me, one leg on each side, one sword raised up. “Goodbye, Larkspur.”

I shot a glance to the side, to see Griffin standing there. “Help me!”

“I told you, if you can’t touch your power when you really need to, you aren’t any good to the world. Save yourself.”

Everything seemed to slow down, the drip of sweat on Granite’s face falling in a zigzag line, the sword coming straight for my face, the point glittering in the sunlight through the trees.

There was no time to think, I just reached for the power, blasted through the blocks despite the pain, and took hold of it. There was only one thing I remembered how to do, the only aggressive tactic I’d ever used.

Beneath Granite’s feet, the earth exploded, sending him flying through the air, tumbling, his weapons falling from his hands. He hit the ground, rolled, and was on his feet looking at me with wide eyes.

“Impossible.”

I flicked my hands, best as I could tied to the ground by the ivy, and the trees around us bent backward, as if pulled by a huge rubber band trembling with the strain.

My eyes met his and he straightened. “I was wrong about you, you are stronger. You are not your mother.”

A tear slipped from my eyes. “Goodbye, my friend,” and I released the trees. The wind passing over their leaves and needles made a whooshing sound, and I closed my eyes a split second before they hit him.

Griffin stepped to my side, crouched and cut the vines away. I lifted my hands, and flicked my fingers, sending the vines away from me before he could finish. He half-tipped his head toward me. “Go after the queen. You have to release the fire, and you have less than five minutes before it will be too late for your father and many of your family.”

Five minutes. I sat up, pushed the sorrow in my heart away. Griffin was right. Cassava had slipped away while I dealt with Granite. My job as an Ender was to track down and execute traitors.

And there was only one traitor left in the forest.

Chapter 22

I counted as I ran, five minutes was three hundred seconds. If there had been any doubt in my mind that Cassava was done controlling the people, I was quickly dissuaded. I barely stepped off the raised mound when a group of people swept up and tried to surround me, their eyes glazed and chests heaving from the worms. I sidestepped them easily, their movements sluggish, at best. No matter how hard Cassava might be pushing them, their bodies were failing. They were dying.

I had to get to the cleansing fire and release it. And fast.

Two hundred twenty-nine.

Running, I dodged around the first group, keeping my spear tight to my side and pumping only one arm. I had to back track three times in order to get around bigger groups of people. I didn’t want to hurt anyone else, and I knew that it wasn’t really their faults anyway. Still, they were slowing me down and I cursed them for it.

One hundred eighty-four.

The Spiral rose in front of me, calling me to it. I ran up the steps and into the main hall, not pausing to look around. I knew where Cassava would be. The throne room, without a doubt, the seat of power, the place she wanted to make her own.

One hundred ten. I bolted in that direction, body slamming three people on my way there.

Seventy-one. I felt bad, and hoped I didn’t hurt them, but I had to see everyone who could be controlled by Cassava as an enemy. Which meant everyone.

I skidded to a stop at the edge of the throne room, my heart leaping into my throat.

Forty-four. Cassava sat on the throne, the fire pot in her hands. My father laid at her feet, his body splayed out, face down. Around her were her children, standing from oldest to youngest. Vetch, Belladonna, Keeda and Briar—the twins—and Raven. Briar and Raven were the only ones who looked terrified, Briar’s cheeks stained with tears as she clung to Raven’s hand, and Raven’s skin paled with shock. The others, grinned, their eyes holding the same wicked darkness their mother’s had. They were her children through and through. They wouldn’t help me face her.

Raven gave a slight shake of his head. I heard the unspoken words, though. They couldn’t get away, not even if they wanted to. But I still could.

“I’m not leaving those I love.”

His jaw twitched and he pulled Briar closer to him, away from the others, the division clear. Cassava glared at him. “I will deal with you two later.” Then she turned her eyes to me.