Book 4: Hollow

Xandra

“Through the river!” I hiss, leaning low over Finn’s back, though that makes the high grass whip across my face.

I don’t know how long we’ve been running. The moon has long passed the apex of the sky and is sinking toward morning. Howls echo around us. Dunes hump along the horizon to the south, and trees offer a dark welcome ahead. There’s no point in looking behind us; Finn’s speed leaves no hope we’re not cutting a trail that will be as easy to follow as a line on a map come morning. For the first time, I wish we were a more northerly kingdom, half-covered in forests where we could lose our pursuers easily.

“Head them off,” Father shouts. “They cannot escape.”

Of course, he knows where I am going. He taught me most of what I know, and the rest, I’ve taught him. But that doesn’t make it any worse of a plan. Until dawn, they can only track us by smell. We need to disrupt that. The bulk of the force remains behind us, only those already