“Should we go help her?” Nate asked.

“I see a Sub on the way,” Lindy said. She brandished her tranquilizer pistol. “Is it time for this?”

“Probably,” Nate said. “I guess we can wake him up if the Gate isn’t in the backpack.”

Lindy dove down nearer to the boat, keeping well away from the boom. Nate darted down to fly beside her. She took aim and fired twice.

Howling, the hermit turned the sailboat sharply. Setting aside his model boat, he opened a weathered bin on the deck and retrieved a compound bow. As the Hermit hastily nocked an arrow, Lindy veered up and left, Nate up and right. Climbing as quickly as possible, Nate saw the Hermit release the arrow, but he couldn’t follow where it went. Looking urgently at the other Jets, Nate saw that nobody had been hit.

But the Hermit did not stop shooting. He fired arrow after arrow. The fourth took Risa through the thigh.

All four of the Jets broke off the pursuit and climbed straight up. Once high enough to feel safe from further arrows, they huddled together in the night sky. Risa grimaced in pain.

“Take her back,” Nate told Chris.

He looked pale, but nodded. “What about the Hermit?”

“We’ll keep after him,” Nate promised. “But Risa needs a doctor.”

“Do I take her to a hospital?” Chris asked.

Nate shook his head. “Try Jonas White first. Some of these magicians have healing abilities. Even if he can’t fix her, he’ll know what to do.”

“You okay?” Lindy asked, a hand on Risa’s shoulder.

“It hurts,” Risa replied bravely through gritted teeth.

“Go,” Nate said. “Hurry.”

Chris took Risa’s hand. “Can you fly?”

She gave a quick nod.

The two of them accelerated rapidly, racing back toward Walnut Hills.

“Think she’ll be okay?” Lindy asked.

“I don’t know,” Nate said. “Hopefully the arrow didn’t hit an artery or something. One thing is for sure—this isn’t a game. That Sub who got swatted found that out as well.”

“Do we keep after him?” Lindy asked.

“I think so,” Nate said. “But we need to keep our distance. He’s playing for keeps.”

“I hit him with at least one dart,” Lindy said. “I saw it connect.”

“I hope it takes effect soon,” Nate replied.

The sailboat had moved away while they talked. Nate led the way down toward it again. Before long he came close enough to see the Hermit on the deck, blowing on the sail of the model. The compound bow remained close at hand.

The Hermit showed no sign of dropping unconscious. Perhaps Lindy had missed after all. Or maybe he was immune.

Nate felt unsure how to proceed. He wanted to claim the Gate so he could stay close to Jonas White and rescue John and Mozag. But he didn’t want to get himself or Lindy killed by an arrow. How would that benefit anyone?

Lindy flew near to Nate. “Two Subs closing in,” she informed him.

One of the Subs shot up from the water and onto the deck of the sailboat. Nate recognized him as Drew. Instead of leaping at the Hermit, he had simply come aboard. Crouched and completely dry, he remained half the length of the vessel away from the Hermit.

“Get off my boat,” the Hermit warned. “Stop pursuing me. I won’t ask twice.”

Edging forward, Drew produced a truncheon that looked like a miniature baseball bat. Nate had toyed with some similar truncheons at the training facility.

Setting aside the model sailboat, the Hermit grasped his bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. Drew dove over the side of the boat at the same time as Pigeon burst out of the water from behind the Hermit. As the Hermit swiveled to face the new threat, Pigeon ignored him, lunging instead for the model sailboat. The Hermit had barely set his arrow to the string when Pigeon brought both hands down on the intricate model. The actual sailboat buckled and shattered, catapulting the Hermit into the water.

“Way to go, Pidge!” Nate shouted. “What’s going on now?” he called to Lindy.

“The Hermit is heading straight for the nearest shore,” Lindy replied. “He has the backpack. He dropped the bow to swim better. Pigeon and Drew are after him. He keeps fending them off with his hands and feet.”

Lindy flew along, pointing down at the water, and Nate followed unquestioningly. He got his pepper spray ready. The shore drew steadily closer.

“Pigeon and Drew keep harassing him,” Lindy reported. “The Hermit is fighting as much as he’s swimming. He still has his backpack.”

They reached the shore and the Hermit emerged from the water with Pigeon and Drew in close pursuit. But they didn’t stay close for long. On land, the Hermit was at least twice as fast as the two boys. He dashed away into a stand of trees. The Subs stayed after him, but they lost ground with every stride.

Lindy flew over the treetops, still pointing down at the Hermit as she had while over the water. “He’s fast,” she told Nate. “Some of the undergrowth is pretty dense, but he just charges right through it.”

At the far side of the trees, the Hermit sprinted into a field. Lindy looked over at Nate expectantly.

“Let him gain a little more distance,” Nate said. “I don’t want the Subs catching up. We’re going to win today.”

They tracked him across the field, over some rough terrain, and into a field beyond. “The Subs gave up,” Lindy said, looking back. “They’re returning to the water.”

Nate swooped down. The Hermit’s speed might seem impressive to somebody chasing him on the ground, but Nate could have flown circles around him. Once he came too close to miss, Nate discharged the pepper spray. The Hermit collapsed, writhing and shrieking.

Nate and Lindy landed a few yards away from their quarry. Back arched, tendons standing out, the Hermit rocked from side to side, making strangled sounds.

“We have more,” Nate warned. “Don’t make us use it.”

Still in agony, the Hermit waved a hand. “No more! No more. My skin is very sensitive.”

Seeing how pathetic the Hermit now looked, and hearing the anguish in his voice, Nate felt a little guilty for spraying him. “You shot our friend,” Nate said.

“Only after you chased and shot me,” the Hermit countered, his voice strained, his legs twitching. “How dare you blame me?”

“We need the Gate,” Nate said.

Scowling, the Hermit sat up and jerked open his backpack.