“You’re not getting away with this.” It was a cliché, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I already have. Checked on Luna recently? I understand she’s about to take a turn for the worse.” The phone went dead. Spike was still yowling, and the other rose goblins were picking up the cry, creating a chorus of chirps and snarls.

“Toby? What’s going on?”

I dropped the phone. “Oleander’s coming,” I said numbly. “We’re too late.”

“What are you—” May began, but I was already running for the hill. Answering her didn’t matter. What mattered was getting to Luna before Oleander did; what mattered was finding a way to haul this situation around to a happy ending before it ended all on its own. There was no time to think.

There was only time to run.

Spike raced ahead of me. It was all I could do to keep it in sight, scrabbling for balance whenever the loose dirt of the hillside rolled beneath my feet. I fell twice, catching myself on hands that felt more and more like ground hamburger. We were skipping the normal leisurely assault of the summit; this was a full-on siege, and for all I knew, we were already too late.

Spike keened, and more rose goblins flashed out of the trees, joining my escort. They covered the hill in a flood of thorny bodies, yowling as they charted the fastest path to the summit. It always helps to have native guides. We halved my best previous time, taking small paths and hidden shortcuts I’d never seen before. I was scratched and dirty when we reached the top, and blood was seeping through the bandages on my hands, but we were there. The rose goblins flashed through the pattern to unlock the knowe, darting over, under, around and through as they forced their way inside.

I wrenched the door in the oak open as soon as it appeared, racing inside with the rose goblins at my heels. The hall was still deserted. I skidded to a stop, looking down at the goblins that thronged around me. I’d never seen so many rose goblins before. “Find Luna,” I said, gasping for breath. “Find Luna, Spike.”

My goblin rattled its thorns and turned, taking off into the depths of the knowe. Its family followed, and I ran after them, struggling to keep up. My sneakers were coated in mud, and they found no purchase on the marble, slowing me down. The rose goblins stayed in front of me, keening their distress and doubling back when I fell too far behind. They knew that something was wrong.

I knew Shadowed Hills, but they knew it better, and they knew where Luna was. I followed, and prayed we weren’t already too late.

The rose goblins stopped at a filigreed silver gate set against what looked like a solid wall. I knew that gate; it was one of the gates people didn’t try to pass without an engraved invitation and possibly a formal escort. There were very few restricted areas in Shadowed Hills, and that meant it was best to respect the ones that existed. The enchantments used to lock the doors didn’t hurt, since they made it practically impossible to violate the restrictions by accident.

I’ve always done my best to serve Shadowed Hills, and I’ve always believed the knowe could understand that. It was time to test that theory. I kept running.

The brick dissolved just before I would have slammed into it, allowing me to stumble into the private quarters of the royal family of Shadowed Hills. I stopped to catch my breath, looking frantically around. The room I’d broken into was actually a small, carefully tended garden ringed with marble benches. Cobblestone paths circled a decorative fountain before branching out to mark the way to two smaller, freestanding versions of the silver gate. The sky overhead was pristine gold, studded with two small green moons—a Summerlands sky.

Connor was seated on the edge of the fountain with his head in his hands, letting the spray wash over him. “Connor!” I shouted.

His head jerked up, eyes widening. I’ll give him this: he didn’t waste time. I’d just burst into a place I wasn’t supposed to be, panting and trailed by a dozen or more rose goblins. He didn’t bat an eye as he stood, asking, “Toby? What’s wrong?”

“Where’s Luna?”

He must have seen something in my eyes that didn’t allow for debate. He pointed to the gate on the left, saying, “In her room with Sylvester and Jin. Are you okay? How did you get in?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I started down the path. I was suddenly, unspeakably tired, and I wanted nothing more than to call a five minute time-out and huddle in his arms. Sadly, not an option. “I have to go save your mother-in-law’s life.”

“What?” He stood, falling in behind me.

“Oleander’s on her way.”

Connor made a choked noise somewhere between a gasp and a seal’s startled bark. “That isn’t possible.”

“There isn’t time to explain,” I said, and froze as the leaves in the hedge behind him began rustling. The rose goblins keened a high, warning tone, alerting me to the danger I’d already spotted.

Sometimes speed is all that saves us. The world comes down to action and reaction, physical science becoming all-too-physical reality. I was braced to run before the archer behind Connor finished standing. It was a man I didn’t recognize, tall, thin, and scarred, with ears like a bat’s. He was one of Faerie’s shock troops, nothing more, and it didn’t matter, because he was also the one holding the crossbow.

My knives were strapped to my waist; I’d never reach them before he had time to shoot. Fighting wasn’t an option, and with Connor standing between us, neither was running away. He’d try to save the day if I gave him the chance, and he’d fail. He wasn’t made to be a hero.

I was. “Connor, look out!” I dove forward and slammed my shoulder into his chest, forcing him to the ground. He made a small, startled sound as he fell, reminding me of the last time I tackled him, just a few years and the better part of a lifetime ago, in the darkness of Goldengreen.

The momentum of my leap dragged me down with him. I’d moved fast; Connor was down before he really realized what was going on. I didn’t move fast enough.

The first bolt hit my left shoulder, penetrating just below the scar tissue left by a long-dead assassin’s bullet. The arrowhead wedged against my collarbone, seemingly without encountering any resistance from my flesh. The second bolt hit lower, sinking even deeper before hitting bone. There was barely time to turn my head, see the shafts protruding from my shoulder, and realize I’d been hit. Then the world exploded in pain, like acid flowing into my blood.