Page 85 of The Blood Queen

But we’re not in the battlefield anymore.

Forres is just ahead of us. My brain stutters, righting itself in a few heavy heartbeats.

This is where we entered the town.

So the army is through those streets, on the other side of the ruined buildings.

And the stags are—

Alyth grabs my arm. “Come on!”

Noise reaches me. The army is in a tear, shouting, booted feet stomping. Beyond the village, flames lick up to the sky. The High Blade’s tent.

“Come on!” Alyth says again, and we bolt into the forest behind us.

The stags are still waiting for us. They’re standing, pawing at the ground and filling the air with huffs of impatience, like they know we’re running on borrowed time. Literally.

I leap onto the back of my stag, and Alyth mounts hers.

“Where are we going?” I ask as I grip the stag’s neck.

Alyth wheels her stag to face away from the village. “A portal. We’re—”

An arrow flies out of the woods. Soldiers scream, a warbling war cry.

We don’t hesitate.

Alyth kicks her stag, and he vaults into the trees. Mine follows.

The High Blade’s army can’t possibly keep up with magic stags, can they? We’ll lose ’em. We have to.

The stags gallop over hills and through more barren woods until Alyth yanks hers to a stop next to a series of squat standing stones. It’s late night still, but the moon’s all aglow, lighting up the clearing like a beacon.

The stones don’t glow.

Before I can say anything, Alyth curses, her stag pacing agitatedly, feeding off her tension. “The portal’s dead,” she says without looking at me. She must be able to feel the magic somehow. Or the lack of it.

She kicks her mount again and tears off without pause.

I follow.

It’s all I can do.

If she cuts the High Blade’s thread on the loom, she’ll die.

So she’s not gonna be the one to cut that thread, then, is she?

Those women have been stalking us for days. The number three here and there, repeating in the wisps, in the spiders, even in the coals in the brazier. Three, three, following us, trying to tell us something, get our attention.

Trying to tell us that there’s another way. A way that doesn’t end with Alyth dying.

Some fires are destined to burn themselves out.

Pretty sure this was always gonna be my fate.

Pretty sure I’m more okay with it than I should be.

The stags slow again, leading us up to a single flat stone. I can tell it’s still alive, and not just because it’s glowing.