“Faster!” Laska shouted.

  Al let out a piercing whistle, urging the beetles to their limits. The entire wagon shook violently as he spurred them on.

  “Come on, Goro! Gora!” he yelled, standing in the driver’s seat, black hair whipping in the wind. “You heard the sergeant—faster, my babies!”

  My heart hammered, adrenaline surging with every jolt of the carriage. The forest around us blurred into dark smears as the massive beetles thundered forward. Behind us, a pack of monstrous shapes gave chase, closing in beneath the swinging lantern light.

  Fern, can you see anything? I thought, panicked.

  The teenager was screaming, terrified, inside my mind.

  ‘I—I can’t look!’ Fern shrilled back.

  I cupped my ears reflexively, but that didn’t help block out his screams inside my mind.

  At least stop screaming! Damn, Fern!

  I forced myself to look out at our pursuers. Six beasts. Six horrible, monstrous beasts, each with six long legs and six soulless black eyes, moved unnaturally, like sharks on land, toward our carriage. Their elongated snouts bristled with rows of teeth and coarse black fur. The beasts began to communicate. They yapped sharply to each other as they surrounded the carriage. Their demonic trumpetlike barking made my skin crawl.

  “Burning hells, those are some angry lichwolves, huh?” Captain Hopsander called over his shoulder. “Don’t stare too long if you value your sanity!”

  The wagon rattled over bumps, but the beetles pulled us faster than the beasts could sprint. Against Hopsander’s warning, I glanced back. Obsidian eyes, three on each side of their long skulls, glowed in the dark like hungry coals. Down their spine, a tangled mass of feelers twitched, and claws on their forepaws looked long enough to shred metal. They were like cosmic, multi-eyed demon-dogs.

  A shriek pierced the air. One of the gray-haired twins cowered against her sister, trembling. “Sora, calm down,” the other girl—Rinka—whispered, patting her. A thin burn scar lay across Rinka’s cheek, briefly visible when she looked up and caught me staring. She quickly covered it with her hair.

  “Shut her up, Rinka,” snapped a gaunt white-haired boy. He turned away from the huddled sisters, scowling. “Cinders are supposed to kill these things, not get chased.”

  Well, he’s . . . delightful, I thought to Fern, brimming with sarcasm.

  Before I could speak, Ruriel—the indigo-haired boy who seemed too cool for all this—stuck out a foot, nearly tripping the gaunt teen. “Lucius,” Ruriel said in a heavy accent, “shut that prissy mouth or I’ll toss you out to the dogs.”

  Now, him, I like, I decided.

  Lucius shot back up, glaring at Ruriel. But Hopsander’s deep croak cut them off. “Children, remain seated lest you fall out.” He grinned wide, but it felt like a threat. They sat, tension thick in the air while the lichwolves outside continued to slam their bodies into the carriage.

  Hopsander pulled out a small, egg-shaped metal orb with a thin wire coiled around it. He spun the orb faster and faster until it whistled, then jerked his arm in a fluid motion. The dart shot out to the side—and crushed one of the lichwolves’ skull with pinpoint accuracy. He let out a low laugh and shot a wink at Lucius.

  “How’s that for killing things, lad?” Hopsander said while he began swinging the rope dart again.

  Al was laughing too. A small repeating crossbow sat in one of his hands and the reins in the other. His crossbow had an odd chamber affixed on top, firing bolt after bolt with impressive speed. He picked off one of the beasts that ventured too close to the beetles.

  “Keep steady, my lovelies!” Al hollered, whistling. The two giant beetles—Goro and Gora—responded with whistling chirps of their own, plowing onward.

  Sergeant Laska was something else entirely. She was a snowstorm. Frost clouded around her mouth, her eyes glowed bright sky blue, and her sword flashed. She sliced down any creature that dared lunge at the wagon’s back. One smaller lichwolf snarled and leaped at her after, managing to clamber onto the rear bed of the carriage. But Laska’s stoic gaze didn’t waver. She swung once, severing its head so cleanly I barely registered the motion. There was no blood; instead, the stump where the head had been was frozen solid. The body tumbled off the wagon and into the dirt.

  ‘S-she’s a monster,’ Fern murmured, briefly forgetting his terror.

  They all are. They have to be using some form of magic, right? What was that?! I said, stunned at the Cinders’power.

  One of the titan-beetles let out a challenging roar, deliberately drawing the wolves’ attention away from its partner. Its horn glinted in the moonlight, flinging one of the beasts aside.

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  “All right, enough playing,” Hopsander barked. “Laska, use it!”

  She nodded, eyes flaring bright. Icy crystals escaped her lips and crept up her face. “Yes, Captain.” Her short black hair stood on end like frozen thorns. She muttered something under her breath, stepping onto the wagon’s rear railing with her sword raised. Blue light coated the blade, cold air dancing around it. In a swift arc, she swung, releasing a surge of frigid energy that blasted the pursuing pack. Several froze mid-charge, letting Al snipe any that remained. Pained howls echoed down the road as we pulled away.

  I exhaled sharply, feeling my hands shake as I loosened my death grip on the carriage railing and the hidden dagger beneath my shirt. The lichwolves didn’t continue their pursuit, and we were finally given a moment to breathe. The air filled with everyone’s ragged breathing.

  “That was too close,” Lucius muttered. “Some Cinders, letting them chase us that long.”

  Next to him, Zenobia scoffed. “Watch your mouth, Lucius. Did you not see their perfect accuracy? Or that attack Sergeant Laska did?”

  “Oh, calm down, blondie,” Lucius hissed. “Kissing their asses, are we?”

  She rolled her eyes, turning from him. Hopsander’s raspy laugh erupted, shaking the carriage. “Don’t be too rough on him. He’s just embarrassed that he was scared.”

  “I was not scared,” Lucius snapped, trying to stand.

  “Sit,” Laska ordered, forcing him back down with one hand. She glared at the rest of us. “Keep quiet till we make camp. We don’t need your whining attracting more of the beasts.”

  Mel, seated across from me, removed her metal glove with a sigh, then stuffed it in a small pouch. She seemed disappointed that she didn’t get a chance to use it. Next to me, Silas, who’d been hyperventilating through the encounter, finally got a hold of himself. I gave his shoulder a shake. “You good?”

  He nodded, eyes shining with an odd excitement. “They were amazing,” he whispered. I saw now that he couldn’t take his eyes off Laska.

  Oh lord, kid’s got a crush on the teacher. I laughed to myself.

  I too marveled at their prowess but dreaded how vicious the forest was. If these three were so powerful yet still anxious, how terrifying would the rest of this journey be?

  We fled through the dark for another hour before the wagon lurched to a sudden stop. The beetles chirped anxiously, legs scraping at the ground. Al cursed under his breath.

  “Sergeant?” he called, sounding concerned.

  Laska was watching the road behind us. “What is it, Corporal?”

  “The bridge . . . it’s gone.”

  She whirled around. “Gone? Quit joking.”

  “It’s gone. Completely destroyed.”

  Scowling, Laska jumped from the back. “Stay put,” she hissed at us, and walked around the carriage.

  Mel and I looked at each other for a moment, and then almost like we read each other’s mind, we both got up anyway. Silas too.

  “Hey! Hey, the sergeant said to stay put,” Zenobia said, her golden curls bouncing with frustration.

  The other kids got up and followed us out. As I got down, I heard Lucius.

  “Like I said before, Zenobia, calm down.” He laughed, hopping off the carriage. Zenobia reluctantly did the same.

  I walked with Mel up to the front of the carriage, and true to Al’s report, a wide canyon yawned ahead where a sturdy bridge should have been. Now only splinters remained on each side, the road ending abruptly. Cut-down trees and weeds framed the gorge, leaving no direct way across.

  Hopsander approached, rubbing his broad forehead. “What now, Sergeant?”

  Laska took a calming breath. “We continue on foot.”

  “You’re joking,” Lucius grumbled. “Walking? In the Dark Woods? That’s suicide.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Is His Highness complaining again?”

  He glared, but Al whistled sharply. “You heard the lady, folks—move!”

  Laska stalked to the cliff. “Grab your packs,” she ordered, ignoring Mel’s smirk. I collected my small sack. Lightcutter remained secured beneath my tunic, comforting me more than any armor could.

  Tevin, the large boy, kept muttering “amazing” under his breath as he watched Al unhook the titan-beetles. Al whispered to them, patted their shells, then nodded. To my shock, both beetles simply walked off the canyon edge, climbing down the rocky wall as if strolling on flat ground.

  “Whoa,” I breathed, leaning out with Tevin. The canyon dropped hundreds of feet, but the beetles navigated it easily.

  “They’ll meet us later,” Al said, rejoining us. “Come on.”

  We followed a rough path along the cliff side, navigating weeds and dead tree limbs snagging at our clothes. Laska led, Hopsander stuck to the center, and Al took up the rear. I ended up near Al, with Silas next to me. Moonlight bathed the opposite side of the canyon in a ghostly glow, revealing barren fields and jagged hills. Beyond them, a towering shadow loomed, bigger than any sort of mountain I’d ever seen on the horizon. The atmosphere felt . . . wrong.

  ‘Erik, this place is unsettling,’ Fern whispered.

  You’re not wrong, I thought. What the hell is that giant shadow thing?

  ‘I . . . I have an idea but . . . no . . . it can’t be. Could it?’ Fern said.

  Why, Fern? Why the cryptic words but no explanation? You know I hate when that happens in movies. Why can’t you just—

  My thoughts broke when, somewhere ahead, Mel began yelling at Lucius for walking too close to her. Laska’s patience snapped; she marched over and smacked them both on the head, hissing at them to stay silent.

  A rustling to our right froze everyone in place. Dry leaves crunched, and Laska’s eyes narrowed. “Quiet,” she whispered fiercely. “Worse threats than lichwolves lurk here.”

  Worse? My stomach tightened. I felt Fern’s panic rising again.

  Suddenly, a piercing scream shattered the silence—one of the twins again. By her feet lay a half-buried corpse, small and decaying. Its skin looked like bubbling latex, and its body was the shape and size of a child, but the face that of some sort of contorted goat monster. Laska’s eyes hardened. “Goblins,” she muttered. “We need to move. Now.”

  An eerie horn blast echoed through the trees, a hollow note that stabbed into my bones. We froze, hearts hammering. Then three more blasts rang out, each sharper than the last. I caught a glimpse of movement—dark shapes flickering between trunks. Dozens of small, gleaming eyes glowered back at us. Then . . . hundreds. A wave of bodies poured from the underbrush, chittering angrily.

  “Shit,” Laska hissed. “Captain, Corporal—defend!” She pointed, and Hopsander charged with Al toward the tree line. “Go now, recruits!” she barked, gesturing for us to run.

  We sprinted down the path. Another horn blast. More leaves shuddered as a swarm of goblins advanced. I stumbled into Silas, who collided with Tevin. We tumbled onto each other, and Tevin’s huge body pinned me down.

  I rolled out from under the tall kid and scrambled to my knees. A goblin’s face peeked from a bush, teeth bared into a wide, hungry, feral grin.