He nodded, gave us both a bow and slid out of the room, his steps silent. The door clicked behind him and Fern opened her mouth to speak. I put a finger to my lips and lowered myself to the floor. Head against the cool, strange feeling material, I stared at the base of the door. The minimal light shining underneath it showed me that Ash had not moved away, his shadow casting two spots where his feet stood.

I rose and cleared my throat, speaking loudly, “Fern, I think perhaps you should come with us. Let me help you get dressed.”

“Oh, okay, Lark.” Her eyes were on mine and I shook my head. Fern, perceptive that I was not saying everything I had to, dressed quickly. The rustle of her clothes was the only sound in the apartment. I went to the door and leaned against it, wishing I didn’t have to dupe Ash. I thought, for a moment or two that we might be able to work together. Maybe even become friends. But not if I couldn’t trust him. Not if Cassava controlled him. There must be a proximity to what she could manage, because when we were at the Pit, he was reasonable. Like he could think for himself.

I closed my eyes and focused on what exactly Ash had said about the armband. A counterclockwise twist would take us back to the origins of the band. In this case, back to the Pit. I fingered the smooth black band, really looking at it for the first time. Flames were etched deep into the cool stone as the main theme, another reminder of where we were headed. In the flames lay the symbols of the other families too, though. I touched the tree, as if that alone would take us home.

From the traveling room in the Pit, we could travel to the forest. Dangerous? Yes, but also far faster. I had no idea how to use one of the human’s vehicles. Ash probably did, but there was no way I could allow him to take us.

I feared that we were already too late, and going to the Pit was our only option for speed.

Fern drew close to me, a pretty green dress cut with a high empire waist that helped to disguise her bump. “What is wrong?”

“Ash is working for the queen.” I kept my voice low, but apparently not low enough.

The door burst open and Ash stood there, his daggers in his hands and I grabbed Fern. “Hang onto me.” She wrapped her arms around me and I twisted the band counterclockwise. The last thing I saw was Ash, darting forward, and daggers slashing toward us, and then we were traveling. I expected to see Fern’s memories, as I’d seen Ash’s.

I did not expect her to see mine.

She saw my mother die. Saw Bramley die. Saw my memories stolen and the queen’s deception.

And then we were lying in the traveling room in the Pit. I sat up before the dizziness faded.

From outside the room was a shuffle of feet. “You hear that?” a man’s voice asked.

I stood and held my hands up to the globe while Fern lay at my feet, gagging. I pulled the globe around, drawing it close to me until I was looking at our home. But where?

The eastern front was full of lung burrowers, and there were no Enders who could help. Who could I trust?

Griffin.

I slid my hand across to the southern edge, reached down and grabbed Fern’s hand. “Don’t let go.”

The door burst open as I reached up to touch the southern edge of the forest. And an arrow shot through my palm. I screamed and two more arrows shot toward me. I closed my eyes and pushed my hand into the globe.

Pain seared my right thigh and hand. This time, if there were memories exchanged I didn’t see them. Or maybe, we were just too out of it to be aware.

I came to first, the pain in my thigh bringing me out of the haze of traveling. I struggled to sit up, whimpering with the pain. The blood seeped through my pants, warm and wet as it dripped down my leg. With a quick twist, I snapped the haft off with my good hand, the jerk reverberating through my bone. Groaning, I carefully went to my knees, curling my right hand against my chest. The arrowhead had gone right through my palm, but I’d need help to get it all the way out, the shaft sticking out on either side at least six inches.

“Fern,” I whispered her name and poked at the slumped body beside me. Had she been hit with an arrow? I’d seen three, but only two had hit me. With only the one good hand, it was hard to roll her over gently. She flopped, boneless, and I put a hand to her throat. The pulse was steady, a good sign, and no arrow protruded from her anywhere.

I shook her. “Fern, time to wake up. I need your help.”

“She’s going to be out cold for a long while.”

From the bushes beside me, Griffin appeared, ghosting through the fog like the wolf he was.

“There’s no time, help me with these arrowheads.” I held my hand up to him.

“You in trouble already?” He took my hand, snapped off the feathered end of the arrow and slid the shaft slowly through the wound. The pain wasn’t too bad, or at least, not as bad as I thought it was going to be. Or maybe I was just becoming numb. Or maybe I’d just been injured so much lately nothing felt as bad as the last wound.

He pulled off a strip of material from the bottom of Fern’s skirt and wrapped my hand with it. “You going to tell me what happened?”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t want anyone else to have to deal with this if they don’t have to.”

“Deal with what?”

I tipped my head back, thinking about how to answer him. How to explain that I’d killed other Enders, that Ash was under some sort of spell, and that the lung burrowers were going to kill my father no matter what I did?

Griffin put a hand against my thigh. “That’s fine, don’t answer, I don’t need the details.” He pulled his belt loose and stuffed the leather into my mouth. “Bite down.” I didn’t argue even though the leather tasted of sweat and wolf. He jerked the arrow out, the broad head slicing through my flesh as bad on the way out as the way in. I bit down hard, and managed not to scream, but only barely. A second strip of Fern’s dress made a nice band of color on my leg.