“Uh-oh,” Razor commented, and Grimalkin vanished.

The ground shook again, this time accompanied by an angry rumble that seemed to echo through the orchard. Puck grimaced and raised his hands.

“Oh, come on! I wasn’t even trying this time.”

The rumble turned into a roar as a few yards away, one of the trees shook violently, shedding apples everywhere, then began to rise from the ground. Dirt and apples tumbled away as a huge gnarled face pushed itself up from the grass, glaring at us with glowing yellow eyes. With a creaking and groaning of massive limbs, the creature stood up, towering forty feet in the air: a tangled giant of roots, moss and tree branches, its arms dangling past its stumpy legs to brush the ground. The apple tree was perched on its head, still shedding fruit that bounced off its massive body, and it would’ve been comical if it wasn’t completely terrifying.

Puck groaned and leaped from the branch, pulling two daggers as he landed beside us. “You know, you guys have got to learn to share!” he called up to the monster looming over us. “I bet it would really cut down on those ugly stress wrinkles!”

The giant roared. Stepping forward, it smashed down with a huge, bristling fist, and we all dived aside. The limb struck the earth like a wrecking ball, sending dirt and apples flying and making the ground shake.

Scrambling for shelter, I pulled Kenzie around a tree and pressed back into the rough bark, panting. She squeezed close, hands clutched in my shirt, shaking. “What now?” she whispered.

“I don’t know.” I drew one of my swords, though I wasn’t sure what I could do with it. Hack at the giant’s ankles, maybe? It would be like trying to cut down an oak with a pocketknife. If the oak was dancing around. And trying to step on you.

The giant rumbled and stepped closer. We sidled around the trunk, watching as the creature moved between the tree aisles, crouching and peering over the branches as it searched for us. At one point, it passed right by the trunk we were hiding behind, making the ground shake as it stepped close. Kenzie hid her face in my shirt, and I wrapped my arms around her, feeling her heart pound until the giant moved away.

“Ethan! Kenzie!”

Keirran’s hiss caught our attention. The prince crouched behind another tree, sword drawn, beckoning to us. With a quick glance at the giant to make sure its back was turned, we bolted from our hiding place, crossed the open aisle and dived behind the trunk with Keirran.

The giant spun, creaking and groaning, as if it sensed we were close. With heavy, laborious steps, it began trudging toward us.

“I hope you have a plan,” I growled at Keirran, feeling the earth tremble as the thing behind us got closer. “Right now, ‘run like hell’ is looking pretty appealing.”

Keirran nodded. “On my signal,” he said, his blue eyes hard as he watched the giant’s progress. “Puck will provide the distraction. When it comes, run as fast as you can and don’t look back. And let’s hope it hasn’t called its friend.”

“Oh, great. There are more of them.”

A massive foot smashed down a few yards from the trunk, and the tree rustled and hissed, dropping apples everywhere, as the giant parted the branches overhead and spotted us.

It roared in triumph. But at that moment, a screaming flock of ravens erupted from the branches, flying in the giant’s face. With a bellow, the monster lurched back, swatting at the birds, which swooped around him, pecking and cawing. Keirran leaped to his feet.

“Go!” he yelled, and we didn’t need encouragement. Bolting from our hiding place, we tore across the field, hearing the giant’s angry bellows grow fainter as we ran.

Of course, nothing was ever that easy.

About two hundred yards or so from the first giant, I was just thinking of slowing my all-out run to a jog, when we went up a little hill and the enormous bulk of a second giant rose up out of nowhere, howling as it saw us.

Dammit.

We changed direction and kept running, but instead of lashing out at us, the giant plunged its thorny claws into the ground as we passed. The ground shook, and gnarled roots erupted from the earth, curved and wickedly barbed like the giant’s fingers. They shot out of the grass in a shower of dirt, trapping Kenzie between them, a cage of spiky wood and thorns. She screamed as the fingers began to close around her, like a fist crushing an egg.

“Kenzie!” I whirled, swords flashing, sinking one blade into the tough wood. The edge bit deep, but didn’t cut through, and I yanked it out to hack at it again. Kenzie had fallen to her knees as the roots closed around her, thorny talons stabbing in, ready to crush the life from her. I could barely see her through the cage of branches now, and desperation flared up to suffocate me.

“No!” I screamed, and at that moment, the claws stopped moving. They trembled, shaking and groaning, as if straining against a force that held them back. I didn’t pause to wonder about it. Raising my arm, I slashed down with all my strength, shearing through one of the talons, snapping it off. A few more hacks, and there was a space just large enough for Kenzie to squeeze through. I could see her, lying on the ground, curled up to escape the wicked points of death stabbing in from all sides.

“Kenzie,” I gasped, dropping to my knees and reaching an arm through the space. The cage shuddered, the talons moving a few inches, as if ready to crush the barrier holding it back. She crawled forward, wincing as the thorns snagged her hair and clothes, then reached out and grabbed my wrist.

I yanked her to me, through the space, as the cage gave a tremendous groan and curled in on itself, crushing anything that might’ve been inside. Gasping, we scrambled away from it as the fist sank into the earth again and disappeared, leaving a giant hole behind.

Keirran, standing a few yards away, collapsed to the ground.

Panting, we crawled over to him. He was still breathing, his chest rising and falling in shallow waves, and his blue eyes were closed. His skin was pale, his hair damp with sweat as if he’d run several miles. The color had faded out of him once more, the silver in his hair leached to white, an ominous gray pallor settling over the rest of him. Razor buzzed in alarm and bounced on his chest, tugging at his shirt.

“Master!” the gremlin howled, sounding distressed. “Master, wake up!”

“Keirran.” Shooing off the gremlin, Kenzie took his hand, and his eyes fluttered open. For a moment, the pupils were colorless, but he blinked, and they returned to their normal piercing blue once more.

“Kenzie, you’re all right.” Keirran’s voice was faint, but he offered a relieved smile, struggling into a sit. “Thank goodness. I tried to hold the roots back, but the giant was strong. I’m glad Ethan was able to get you out in time.”

“So that was you.” I remembered the way the fist had stopped moving, straining to close. It had been Keirran’s Summer glamour holding it back. “Dammit, Keirran. You can’t keep using glamour like that. You’re going to kill yourself.”

“Would you rather I’d let Kenzie be crushed to death?”

An angry roar jerked us upright. The giant had apparently opened his fist and found it empty, instead of the broken body it was expecting.

“Humans.” Grimalkin appeared in the long grass, tail lashing, glaring at us in exasperation. “Stop your infernal talking and run.”

A raven swooped overhead with an impatient caw, seeming to agree with the cat. Scrambling to our feet, we did.

Zigzagging between trees, we ran until we reached the other side of the field, marked by the inconspicuous wooden fence. With the giants still bellowing behind us, I flung myself over the railings, tumbling to the other side in the grass. Kenzie and Keirran were right behind me, and we staggered a safe distance away from the fence as the giants glowered menacingly from inside the field, before turning away and lumbering back over the hill.

I collapsed to the grass, panting, while Keirran stood with his hands on his knees, breathing hard, and Razor gibbered and bounced on his back, throwing insults at the retreating giants. Kenzie plopped down beside me, and I pulled her into my arms, listening to her heartbeat as our breath caught up to us. She leaned back against my chest, closing her eyes and wrapping one arm around my neck.

“I don’t think...I’ll look at apples the same way...ever again,” she panted.

“Oh, come on. You can’t be tired now.” Puck appeared from the long grass, shaking feathers from his hair. Tossing an apple in one hand, he crunched into it with a grin and winked at us. “The party’s just getting started.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

BESEECHING THE SUMMER QUEEN

“Well, there’s the Summer Court,” Puck remarked sometime later, nodding to a gap between the trees. In the distance, rising above a ring of brambles and thorns, an enormous grassy hill could be seen through the trunks. A pair of figures on horses trotted out of the bramble wall, which parted for them like a huge, thorny gate, and cantered away into the forest. “Home sweet home,” Puck said.

“All the entrances will be well guarded,” Keirran said, narrowed blue eyes sweeping over the landscape and the huge mound in the center. “And Titania isn’t expecting me. Even if you’re with us, Puck, they’re not going to just let us walk into court.”

“Walk in?” Puck snorted, giving Keirran a smirk. “Please. What fun would that be?”

“This way.” Grimalkin sighed, turning deeper into the woods. “Follow me. I will get you into the Summer Court without the trouble we are certain to run into if you follow Goodfellow.”

“Trouble? Me?” Puck gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look as we started after the cat. “I’m hurt, Furball. It’s like you don’t trust me or something.”

“Imagine that,” I muttered, and Keirran choked back a laugh. Puck frowned at us both as we trailed Grimalkin deeper into the forest.

“Here,” Grimalkin said a few minutes later, stopping at the bottom of a hillock. I blinked and stared down where the cat was sitting. A tiny burrow, just big enough for a rabbit or fox—or cat—to squeeze through snaked into the darkness. “This will take you where you wish to go.”