When Hoxley settled herself down against Ignatius’ cloak, he roused to see her getting as comfortable as she could manage. Because Idris had joined the party, she’d given the second blanket she normally used to cover her lower half away to keep him warm. She tried not to disturb him but he resituated himself anyway.

  “Sorry.” She whispered.

  “Don’t be.” He answered. He moved a little more like he was attempting to get comfortable before finally revealing he’d pulled one of the twins blankets loose. Once bundled in his hands he offered it to her.

  “I can’t take that.” She said holding her hand to him. “It belongs to them.”

  “They can stay warm with one. I wouldn’t let them get cold. Don’t be too proud to take help when it comes. Take the blanket, Hoxley. It’s freezing in this place.” As an added assurance he pulled the end of his cloak up to reveal the pair slumbering on his chest. To her surprise and delight, she saw Siouxsie and Robert had charged her “Pumpkin” with fire to make it glow. The gel’s light silhouetted their faces to show them each sound asleep. “They’re comfortable. Take the blanket.” She accepted it and quickly covered her lower half as her tail felt like it was beginning to freeze.

  “Thank you, Ignatius.” She said, leaning against him. Before she closed her eyes, she looked upon Morell standing at his post, rhythmically slinging his mace back and forth as he surveyed the terrain. Confident he was up to the task of his post, she drifted into an uneasy slumber that only seemed to last a small while. The only way to tell that hours were passing was by seeing a different person standing at their post in between rests. The last one she remembered seeing was Prince Damron standing in place with his blanket wrapped about him.

  Sometime before dawn she opened her eyes to find that no one was standing guard! At first, she dismissed the sight thinking she was still half asleep and seeing things. It wasn’t until Hoxley forced herself to look a second time to find the spot unmanned that she began to consider something was amiss. To her right, Ignatius was still asleep and three pair of winklepickers peeked from beneath his cloak. She then leaned forward to find Idris and Morell huddled as they slept.

  She quickly got to her feet and took up her spear, hoping the prince had only stepped away to pee in the bushes. Footsteps in the snow revealed his boot tracks leading around the rock face they’d been sleeping against so she followed them to investigate. A cluster of shrubs clinging to the mountain side seemed to be the ideal place to relive oneself if one were so inclined. Shadows seemed darker here and it took her eyes a moment to adjust to the contrast of the snow against the darkness.

  It was here that her hoof stepped on something out of place in the snow. What was found when she looked down was enough to make her blood run cold; the prince’s shield. She barely had time to process what had happened when a burly dark form came charging from the bushes. Frightened, and startled, she couldn’t take a defensive stance fast enough before being tackled by a large man who knocked her backwards to the ground. To her credit, Hoxley never let go of her spear as she fell, kept the staff horizontally across her chest to push back at the assailant swinging wildly, and punching her in the face. The first two blows landed square between her left eye and ear. It was only by the rush of her heart beating fast and the anger clutched between her clenched teeth that she kept from being knocked unconscious by the beating.

  “To arms!” She yelled over her head hoping the others could hear her. “To arms! WE’Re under attack! ignatius, help me!” she yelled. The brawling man punched her again, this time landing a hard shot right between the eyes before grasping hold of one of her horns and repeated bashing the back of head into the snow. “Help! help!” She yelled in between slams. “Ignatius!” The witches’ name had just barely left her lips the second time before another form she couldn’t identify dove from overhead to tackle her enemy and go rolling into the snow beyond. Hoxley’s vision blurred from being pummeled but soon corrected. The first thing she saw was Idris pinning another man to the ground and pushing a dagger deep into his jugular. The man jerked as he gurgled and kicked.

  “Hoxley!” several called from behind. Hands reached down and pulled her from the snow.

  “What’s happened here?” asked Ignatius.

  “The prince.” She spoke woozily as she tried to keep upright. “He’s gone…a scout must’ve taken him.” Idris stood up from his kill and closed the distance between them.

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  “A scout you say?” He asked, picking up his king’s shield and pointing to the man now bleeding and breathing his last breath. “This is one of his uncle’s men. If they have Prince Damron, they will kill him the moment he’s taken back to the eastern kingdom. We must pursue them now if we are to have any chance of saving his life.”

  “Hoxley, your nose!” said Morell. “You’re bleeding!”

  “It’ll be fine.” She told him. “Idris is right. We have to go after them. They couldn’t have gotten far if one of their own was still here. He was likely lingering behind to wait for others to kill us in our sleep. Ignatius,” she said pointing to the towering witch. “Take the twins and scout ahead. See if you can find the ones that took him and slow them down. You don’t have to fight them just keep them from getting away and we’ll catch up.”

  “I can do that.” He said. “Siouxsie, Robert, go.”

  “Done and done!” The twins said together before rocketing away into the night sky

  “Everyone else, grab your things. Idris are you alright?” asked Ignatius

  “This is more blood than I was hoping to shed.”

  “Then steel your heart. There may be more blood in the snow before the night is over.”

  “Let us hope it isn’t ours.” Said Hoxley wiping the blood from her nose with her sleeve. “You heard him, grab your things. We must move quickly if we are to…to…” she said before her knees went weak and she almost collapsed. Ignatius saw her falter and grasped her by the arm pit to keep her up.

  “You’re not going to catch up to anything if you can’t stay on your feet. Morell, stay with Hoxley until she’s ready then follow us.” He reached down and picked up the prince’s shield and pressed it against his chest. “Take this. Leave the packs, they’ll just slow us down. We’ll come back and get them later. Catch up as fast as you can. I’m going to follow the twins. Prince Damron’s abductors can only travel as fast as their slowest man. Hurry or his life may pay the forfeit.” When Morell slipped his arm through the straps and nodded that he understood, Ignatius put one shoe on the bottom of his broom and rocketed away. Idris looked to the boy as well.

  “I cannot wait for you.” He said “Catch up as fast as you can.” The man turned and ran away, racing up the hill as fast as his legs would carry him.

  “What will happen if we do catch up to them?” Morell asked.

  “We’ll have to fight them.” Hoxley said, shaking her head of the haze that had gathered. “Come. We’ll move faster if you ride on my back.”

  “Are you well enough to go yet?”

  “I have to be. A life is at stake.” Hoxley spun her spear behind her back, tucking the staff between her back and the crux of her elbows. The boy looked unconvinced and still a bit frightened. “Now, Morell! There isn’t much time!” He pushed a long stream of breath out his nose before throwing a leg over her back and grasping the middle of the spear.

  “Then let’s go, for the prince!” Morell shouted with his mace in the air.

  “For the prince!” she repeated, hastening away in a gallop.

  Hoxley’s hooves made short work of the distance to the peak. It didn’t take long at all to pass Idris, whom was still running at a frantic stride up the incline.

  “Go!” he yelled after them “Go! I will be there soon!” Morell held on tight as he could as the centaur girl’s strides ate up the mountain, her hooves thundering at a desperate pace. Hoxley ran until her lungs began to burn and she ran some more. Never before had she galloped for so long at such an incline. The air was thin and made her chest heave with every gait. But for her effort she knew she was gaining on the others. They were almost to the very crest when they came upon an unsettling scene. Ignatius and the others had managed to block off the four retreating men who’d stolen the prince. Fortune smiled upon them as the dark-skinned boy was still alive…for now. Robert and Siouxsie stood at the ready on the high ground. The bristles of their brooms lay discarded in the snow, the needle-like lythiuum spear tips pointed at the men in a threatening manner. Ignatius stood in front of them his long sword held out to keep the men from advancing. One of the king’s men already lay face down and mute in the crimson smattered snow. Morell dismounted from Hoxley’s back and the pair moved closer to hear the exchange between Ignatius and the man who held Prince Damron on his knees with a sword to his throat.