Father Kit nodded. “The Woodsman told all the villages in northern Woodwyn to comply with the army’s demands so they wouldn’t get hurt or lose their homes. Then we raid the army and return the stolen goods. If we didn’t help them, the villagers could starve to death.”
“Damn,” Aleksi murmured.
He’s not a thief. Sorcha pressed a hand to her chest. He was risking his life to help people. She turned and saw him stalking toward them, strength and determination in each stride. He was fearless and beautiful. A hero.
Dear goddesses, how would she resist him?
He stopped in front of them. “We are in danger. A search party is approaching, closing in fast.”
She gasped.
“A total of six soldiers,” the Woodsman continued. “Less than a mile away.”
Six? We’re outnumbered, she thought with a growing sense of panic. “We need to go!”
“No.” The Woodsman shook his head. “We can’t have them following us to Drudaelen.”
“So we’re going to fight?” Aleksi asked.
“What?” Sorcha gave him an incredulous look. “Ye’re not in any condition to fight.”
“There will be no fighting,” the Woodsman declared. “I have a plan.”
Liz smirked. “He always has a plan.”
“Father Kit, take the horses into the woods,” the Woodsman ordered. “I have asked the Living Oaks to hide you.”
“Right away, Captain.” The priest gathered up the reins and led the horses away.
Liz picked up the lantern. “And the rest of us?”
The Woodsman pointed at the ruins of a cottage on the far side of the village green. “Sorcha and Aleksi will hide there.”
Aleksi scoffed. “I’m not hiding.”
The Woodsman turned toward him. “You will remain with the princess in order to protect her. Isn’t that your job?”
Aleksi sighed. “Fine.”
“That’s the plan?” Sorcha frowned. “What if the soldiers decide to search all the cottages?”
“That won’t happen. Liz and I are going to make them run away.” The Woodsman motioned to the abandoned buildings around them. “The elfin army believes this is a ghost town. We’ll simply confirm that. And scare the hell out of them. Are you ready, Liz?”
The young man grinned. “This is going to be fun!”
Chapter 9
In the abandoned cottage, Sorcha set the lantern down next to the crumbling fireplace, then dashed over to an open window partially covered with a flowering vine.
“We need to blow out that lantern before the soldiers arrive,” Aleksi warned her.
“I know.” She peered out the window, but Liz and the Woodsman were nowhere to be seen. What were they up to? What if they failed to frighten away the search party?
A sliver of fear crept up her spine, threatening to erupt into full panic. What if the soldiers came to this cottage? She had no weapon on her. The bloody elves had taken her sword and the dagger from her boot.
A loud cracking sound made her jump. She spun around and discovered Aleksi had ripped the leg off an old chair.
He practiced swinging it like a club. “I’ll clobber anyone coming in and breathe fire on them. Don’t worry, Sorcha. I’ll protect you.”
She winced. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.” She peered out the window. “I don’t see anything yet.”
He joined her at the window, his face brushing close to the flowering vine. “I wonder what ah . . . ah . . .”
Sorcha quickly grabbed the edge of her cape and leaned toward him to muffle the sound of his sneeze.
“Ahchoo!”
She winced. Goddesses help them. If Aleksi sneezed again once the soldiers arrived, they would hear him. They would come running, ready to attack.
“What are you doing?” the Woodsman asked from the cottage’s rear doorway.
With a squeal, Sorcha jumped back. “Oh, good goddesses.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Ye gave me a fright. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“How could you hear anything over that sneeze?” the Woodsman asked drily.
“It won’t happen again. I’ll stay away from the flowers.” Aleksi moved back toward the broken chair. “Shall I break off a leg for you, too, Tree Man?”
“Woodsman,” he muttered. With a flick of his hand, he sliced off another chair leg. “We won’t be needing any weapons, but you can offer that to Sorcha, if it will make her less jumpy.”
She huffed. “I’m not jumpy.”
The corner of the Woodsman’s mouth curled up.
So he thought she was amusing? She lifted her chin. “I know how to protect myself.”
“Are you planning to knee them?” His smile widened. “At least my groin will be safe now.”
“Ha! Who says I’m done with your groin?”
He tilted his head. “So you have plans?”
“No! I—” Dear goddesses, what was she saying?
“Humph.” Aleksi glared at the Woodsman and took another practice swing with his club.
“Where is Liz?” Sorcha tried desperately to change the subject. After all, there was no hole for her to crawl into.
The Woodsman seemed as calm as ever, completely unruffled by Aleksi’s show of strength. “He’s in the cottage next door, undressing, so he can use his Embraced power once the search party arrives.”
“So he’s a shifter?” Aleksi set his club down on a rickety table. “Holy Light, does he change into a lizard?”
“No.” The Woodsman shook his head. “His body reflects the colors around him, so he appears invisible.”
“Oh, that’s why ye call him Liz,” Sorcha said. “He changes color like a lizard.”
“Aye.” The Woodsman held up a hand. “The search party is almost here. From now on, we must remain quiet.” He bent over the lantern and blew out the flame.
The room became dark, and Sorcha’s nerves tensed once again. Get a grip. There’s no need to be afraid.
Who was she kidding? She made the sign of the moons, beseeching the goddesses to keep them safe. Then she inched back to the window.
The Woodsman joined her, and when he bent a stem of the flowering vine so he could look out, she nudged a few leaves to the side so she could also see. The village green was empty, but visible thanks to the light of the twin moons. Across the green, the chapel appeared a ghostly gray.
Her hand shook, causing the leaves to tremble, so she let go. “How much longer till they arrive?”
“A minute or two,” the Woodsman whispered.
She shuddered. The thought of being captured again was too much to bear. The Woodsman’s words sifted through her mind once again. She would survive capture, but he and his friends would be executed. Aleksi would probably die, too. “I’ll be so relieved when we get out of this awful country.”
“Woodwyn is not that bad,” the Woodsman muttered.
“Of course, it is. It’s full of nasty elves.”
The stem snapped in the Woodsman’s hand, and he tossed it on the ground. “Not all elves are bad.”
She snorted. “I’ve never met one that wasn’t an arrogant, two-faced bastard.”