"What is there about fire that's so lovely? No matter what age we are, what draws us to it?' Beatty blew out the flame and lit it again. 'It's perpetual motion; the thing man wanted to invent but never did."
Ray Bradbury—Fahrenheit 451
Julianne is hidden in a tree when the captives come into view, huddled between the horsemen and barely visible even from her perch. Mo is the first one she spots, him and an old man lying in a cart being pulled by a horse. She can't see too well from this height, but she thinks there's a bit of color in his cheeks despite the blood crusting his shirt. That's his favorite shirt, but now it's ruined.
The group comes to a stop in front of the fallen tree, Firefox ordering four men to clear the road. Piper, astride his purebred horse, sneers down at the grumbling men like they're less than him because they can't afford silver noses or carefully sewn gloves. She's pretty sure any one of those men could knock the Piper out with one punch and she's just dumb enough that she'd offer a prize to see it happen. She doesn't, though, because her son needs his mother to be alive until he's eighteen.
Resa is careful not to look to the left of the road, but Mo allows his gaze to wander and his eyes catch with Julianne's. He bites back his smile, but she recognizes the faint twitch to his nose, the lop-sided rise of his mouth, and she need only close her eyes to picture the real thing in brilliant, vivid detail.
He passes a finger over his lips just like he used to whenever she told him secrets. Don't tell Auntie, but I left a feather in one of her books for her to find. A finger smoothed over his lips and a whispered Sealed tight as a vault, Juli. When she was four and still basking in the glow of having a mom, Mo had taken her aside and showed her the prettiest ring she'd ever seen. Don't tell Resa, but I'm going to ask her to be your mother forever. Julianne had passed her finger over her lips and whispered Not a word, Mo, I promise.
Now here they are, so close to a reunion that she can practically taste it. He's not strong enough to run yet and Resa will never leave him behind, so Julianne passes her finger over her lips just like Mo did. He dips his head in a slow nod so that the guards don't notice, then his gaze wanders back to Resa. Julianne's mom is shifting from foot to foot in impatience, the soles of her bare feet bloody and leaving imprints in the hard dirt. Perfect little footprints that lead all the way back to the inn. It makes Julianne want to storm up to Firefox and knock the bastard off his horse, make him hurt, but she stays in position and waits.
Below her, hidden by wild vines and nettles, Dustfinger whispers fire-words and snaps his fingers. The flames are subtle things at first, snaking slowly up the mossy trunk until, with another command, they leap up in high columns that send the four soldiers stumbling backwards and the horses rearing. The captives don't waste the precious time, all the able-bodied ones sprinting into the woods and weaving to avoid the bolts of crossbows. Dustfinger quickly steers the three children to the hollow tree Prince had discovered an hour ago while the women hide among the wild vines and the men climb trees.
"What are you waiting for," Piper roars. "Fetch them back!" His horse is shying away from the fire and his silver nose has slipped out of place, showing a mass of scar tissue that's inflamed. Some of the men try to venture into the forest, but Prince's bear gives out a warning growl that has them falling back on the road in alarm.
"It's the Night-Mare," one of them yells, pointing with a shaking finger.
"If you're seeing a Night-Mare in broad daylight, then perhaps you're touched in the head," Firefox snarls down at them. "It's just a fucking bear! Now, go fetch those prisoners or you'll have me to deal with." He does a good job of looking intimidating, but Julianne once saw him topple down the stairs with his cape flung over his head.
The men group tightly together and start forward again, only a couple hanging back to guard the remaining prisoners. The one standing watch over Mo glares down at him like this is all his fault and growls," Don't get any funny ideas, Bluejay."
"And what sort of ideas would those be," Mo asks, glancing up at the man. "Maybe we could compare ideas and cross out the funny ones." Julianne has to press her hand over her mouth to keep the laugh at bay, grinning all the same. "Once the funny ones are out of the way, I'd have to find out how to be faster than your crossbow."
"Oh, shut up," Firefox growls. Mo can't turn all the way around to look Firefox in the eye, but Julianne has an idea of which finger he'd hold up if he could.
Her smile dims as the soldiers breach the woods, huddled like chicks beneath their mother's wing. It makes her job easier at any rate. She lowers herself to the forest floor and begins to sprint, working with her partners in crime to draw the soldiers away from the prisoners. She calls out to them, singing bits of one of Fenoglio's Bluejay songs, and dances just out of sight until the men are so turned around they don't know which way is up.
"Better run," she whispers, high up in a tree again. Her voice nearly blends in with the rustling of wildlife. "Better run before I decide to catch you up in a web of bad dreams. You'd make a fine snack for a Night-Mare." The three that have followed her don't waste time in running back in the general direction of the road, their armor clanking loudly.
She waits until she can't hear anymore shouts, then drops to the ground and makes her way to the meeting point. Most of the others are already back, but Dustfinger is still gone. She doesn't have a chance to dwell on that for too long before Meggie is launching herself into Julianne's arms.
"Did you see them," she asks, tears welling in eyes already raw from crying.
"I saw them," Julianne confirms with a kind smile. "Mo's just as sarcastic as ever and Resa is so strong. You must get that from her, Meggs." She runs her finger over Meggie's nose just like Mo sometimes does, making her smile despite the tears. "We have very stubborn parents."
"At least we know where the two of you get it," Prince says as he comes over to them.
"What are you going to do with the players? They can't stay in these woods forever." His smile slips away like a ghost in the night, dark eyes gaining a hard light that looks so out of place on a usually happy face. The Black Prince has a face made for smiling, not cold calculation.
"I've advised them to join the other players encamped in Ombra. If nothing else, then the Adderhead won't strike them down for fear of offending Cosimo." If he notices the way Meggie ducks her head at the name, he doesn't comment on it. "I just came over to assure you both that I won't allow the Adderhead to hang your father."
"I don't think there's anything you can do about that, Prince. Not when the Adder is convinced that Mo is the Bluejay."
"Well, we both know he's not, don't we? I'll just have to convince the Adderhead he's got the wrong man." The realization isn't a slow blooming thing, it hits her like a brick to the face and she's left speechless as he slips away. In the year and a half that she's known him, he's never surprised her like this and his best friend is a trained bear. What the fuck?
"Why do you look like that," Meggie asks, scrunching her nose. "The last time I saw that expression it was because I'd accidentally messed up your favorite audiobook." Julianne remembers that day, but a screwed up Stephen King story doesn't hold a candle to the fact that the Black Prince is the Bluejay. "Juli?"
"What's wrong with her now," Dustfinger asks as he joins them. "Another crisis? Because I don't have the energy to deal with this one."
"I don't know. The Black Prince told us he knew Mo wasn't the Bluejay and then…. This." Meggie gestures at Julianne's blank expression, the concern in her eyes making Julianne do her best impression of a smile. By the looks on her companions' faces, it falls a little flat.
"What is it?"
"I'm pretty sure our darling friend wears a bird mask and does heroics at night," she finally says, forcing the words out with a wooden tongue. Dustfinger makes a face, running his fingers through his hair. "Why don't you look surprised?"
"Because this is just the sort of thing that jackass would do, that's why. Good Lord, I'm going to kill him the next time I see him. How could he do this without me? We do everything together!"
"That's what you're upset about? That he didn't ask you to join his boy band," Farid asks incredulously. Dustfinger scowls over at him and Julianne raises her brows in unison with Meggie. Farid doesn't look embarrassed, keeping his head up proudly. "What? I like the Backstreet Boys and I'm not ashamed of it."
"I'd say you should check out the Jonas Brothers, but we don't have YouTube here," Meggie says. "Maybe Juli has some of their music on her iPod. She used to be obsessed." Julianne is just as proud as Farid in her choice of boy bands and makes a mental note to play Sucker for him later.
"Oh, hey, did the Prince say anything about the informant that Piper had mentioned?"
"He won't have to look for long," Dustfinger says, urging them all into motion again. Julianne's poor feet don't appreciate this, but she goes with only minimal whining. "All he has to do is look for the person that's got silver in their pockets."
"Do you suppose we'll be able to reach the Castle of Night first or is the road faster?" Dustfinger does his best not to smile, but the faint trace is visible enough to make Farid puff his chest out all the same.
"I know ways through the Wayless Wood that are shorter and safer than the route Firefox's men are taking. We'll be there in no time as long as we don't stop too often." Another whine from Julianne, her feet throbbing at the news. She just wants to soak them in hot water, she wants to soak her everything in hot water. God, she misses running water.
"What about the Spelt-Mill," Meggie asks, trying her best to sound innocent. "Aren't we going there first in case Cloud-Dancer has sent you a message?" Dustfinger shares a knowing look with Julianne and heaves out an impressive sigh.
"You asked the old man to write you something, didn't you?" Meggie doesn't answer right away, her fingers smoothing down her hair or picking nettles out of her dress. She doesn't make eye contact and Julianne is really starting to wish she'd brought a newspaper with her because this is ridiculous. "Spit it out, Meggie."
"He's supposed to be sending me words to save my parents."
"Wonderful!" He practically spits the word out, his glare so cutting that Farid wraps his arm around Meggie's shoulder and Julianne sends the fire-eater a warning glance. One toe out of line, that glance says, one wrong word and I'll make you sorry you ever set eyes on that little girl. "And suppose the letter falls into the wrong hands?" Meggie raises her head again to stare Dustfinger right in the eye, all stubborn pride.
"You know perfectly well that Fenoglio's our only hope now."