The stallion reared. When he came down, his huge hooves struck fiery sparks.

Robin said, “We will run our hearts out together, dear love.”

Chapter Twenty

Afterward, she was never able to fully describe the experience of that ride.

There was a wild speed and so much magic, and the land sped past impossibly fast. Sparks from the stallion’s hooves lit up the night, and something in the wind laughed in response.

Terrified and freezing, she lay along the stallion’s back and clung with her knees while clenching her hands so tightly in his mane she couldn’t feel her fingers. She tried to look out at the landscape, but the air was too frigid, and tears streamed down her face. Eventually she gave up and hid her face in the puck’s mane while he raced along precipices and leaped over ravines.

Just when she thought she couldn’t hold on any longer and she might fall off despite Robin’s help, he surged up a long incline, past torchlit sentries, tents, campfires, and makeshift houses. Shouts rose behind them, far too late to stop the puck’s forward movement.

Finally Robin galloped up to a stone building at the top of a bluff. As guards ran up, one made as if to put his hand on Robin, and the stallion screamed a warning and reared in response, kicking out so violently the guards scrambled back.

Someone ran into the building, while Robin whirled to threaten off the guards that circled them.

“Stop doing that or I might be sick!” Sophie called out hoarsely as the world spun.

Baring his teeth at the guards, Robin stopped spinning.

Soon several more guards poured out of the building, along with a tall, auburn-haired woman in armor. “What is going on? Robin! Where have you been?”

“Away,” said Robin. “I have been away and trapped by evil.”

“I need to speak to Annwyn.” Sophie’s teeth chattered. “We came from Earth, and it’s urgent.”

“I’m Annwyn,” the woman said, crossing her arms. “Get down and say what you’ve come to say.”

That was easier said than done. The ground was so far away, and her fists had stiffened in Robin’s mane. “Robin,” she muttered. “Help me.”

Bowing his head, the stallion went down on his front knees. Sophie slid off his back in an ungainly sprawl. When she yanked her hands free, she tore long black strands out of his mane, but he didn’t complain.

She didn’t trust herself to get to her feet. Instead, she turned on her knees to face Annwyn and the circle of suspicious guards staring down at her. Holding out her shaking hand, she showed them the gold commander’s ring on her thumb. For the first time, she noticed the lion rampant on the head of the ring.

“Nikolas,” Annwyn whispered. Lunging forward, she knelt in front of Sophie. “Bring a cloak and a hot drink!” Annwyn turned back to Sophie. “Are you wounded? You have blood all over you. You’re insane to ride out in this weather dressed like that. How did you come here—and where is Nikolas?”

“I was wounded, but I’m healed now. We don’t have time for niceties. Listen.” Sophie grabbed her hands, and while Annwyn froze at her presumptuous touch, the other woman did not shake her off.

Words tumbled out of Sophie. Earth. A stray dog. The house. Broken passageway. Nikolas and the other men. The pub attack. Lycanthropes. Morgan.

She didn’t mention Ashe. That matter felt too private and raw, and it deserved its own telling, by someone other than she.

“Wait!” This time it was Annwyn who grabbed hold of her. “They’re here, in Lyonesse? You’re saying you found a way through?”

“Yes, but we might l-l-lose it,” she stuttered. Someone settled a fur-lined cloak around her shoulders, and someone else thrust a tankard of mulled wine into her hands. It was too hot for her frigid skin, and the tankard slipped through her clumsy, cold-numbed fingers to spill on the frozen ground. “Time moves faster on Earth than it does here, and when we left, Morgan was trying to tear down the house. He might destroy the way back if we don’t stop him.”

Annwyn swore, then said behind her shoulder, “Muster a force of five hundred. We ride within the next half hour.” As guards raced to do her bidding, she said sharply, “Puck! Your master is in an enchanted sleep, and we need to search for help from Earth. If we don’t get Oberon the medical attention he needs, he’ll die, and the idea of Lyonesse will die with him. Will you let us ride in your wind? I fear if we ride on our own, we will be too slow—and we will arrive too late again.”

The puck stood protectively at Sophie’s back. He blew in her hair. Robin owes them nothing, he said in her head. Because nothing is what they did for him.

She looked over her shoulder, into the stallion’s fiery eyes. Robin, you were hurt in your heart as well as in your body, and I understand how terrible that was. But sweetheart, not everybody could have known to look for you or send help. Not everybody abandoned you. The people in Lyonesse have been as caged as you were. Don’t let your hurt blind you to what is true and right, because if you do, Isabeau will have destroyed you. She will have won. Please don’t give that victory to her. You don’t belong in the cage of your abuser any longer. Choose to be stronger than that. Choose to be free.

The fire in the stallion’s eyes grew hotter, brighter. He said, And if we cannot get back to Earth, we can’t defeat her.

“Yes,” she said out loud.

The puck said to Annwyn, “You may ride in my wind, this once.”