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Sephonie, didn’t you?”
    Reflexively, Gideon touched the tip of his crossbow where it
poked out from his pack. “I did.”
    “Then those men don’t stand a chance.”
    He shook his head and turned his attention back to his
saddlebags, rearranging its contents. “Your confidence in me might be a bit
exaggerated.”
    “I’ve seen what you can do with that crossbow. I’m
misstating nothing.”
    “Then what exactly are you proposing we do?”
    I explained my idea, and he chewed on it for a while before
offering his critique. “I’m supposed to protect you, not throw you to the
lions.”
    “Yes, but the Ancients never gave their lion fighters an
invisibility cloak or a back-up bow wielder with deadly aim.”
    “I don’t like it, but I’ve got nothing better. If we go
around the long way in an effort to avoid them, the men will undoubtedly be
waiting for us in Braddock. I’m sure they’ve figured out our destination.”
    Shortly after his capitulation, I mounted Nonnie and pointed
her in the general direction of the road. Gideon and Gespenst caught up to us,
and he reined in close. “Thropshire is about thirty miles down the road from
here,” he said, pointing in a southward direction. “It’s a big town, and you’ll
go unnoticed there even more than you would have in Brighton. Don’t stop. Don’t
wait for me under any circumstance. Get to Thropshire and try not to give
yourself away. There’s a decent inn there called The Silver Goose. Get to it
and get a room. I’ll find you there later.”
    He passed me several coins. “This should be enough for the
room. Go ahead and order a meal and hot bath, too. If this plan works, I have a
feeling I’m going to want both very badly.”
    I refastened the Thunder Cloak’s clasp, but refrained from
uttering the magic word, saving that for the last possible moment. We had
emerged from the little grove of trees to a place where the sunlight burned
truer. My cloak had a sufficient energy source to perform its magic in full,
now. The stronger light would make my invisibility more infallible.
    “This is going to work,” I said. “All they’ll see is a horse
with no rider.”
    Gideon grunted, but said nothing else. He directed his horse
with leg and thigh, his hands now occupied with Sephonie and her ammunition.
From his saddlebags, he withdrew a thick leather belt covered in loops and
pouches. The loops held a handful of bolts fletched with peacock feathers, and
the pouches carried extra magazines already loaded with more modest
projectiles. His crossbow was my father’s innovation: a small, lightweight repeating
crossbow that strung the bow and reloaded ammunition with a simple, one-handed
lever.
    I knew so much about this weapon because my father awarded
one every year as a special prize for the winner of the archery section during
his annual tournament season. Gideon won the crossbow competition last year, easily
ousting his well-seasoned opposition. Why had he bothered to deflect my
championing of his abilities? That he was a marvel with this weapon was no
secret. I understood why Father might have asked Gideon, of all people, to
protect me. But I still didn’t understand why he had accepted.
    “You’ll go on my word—full gallop,” he said. “Don’t stop.”
    “You already said that.” A grin tugged at the corner of my
mouth. His concern for me was charming.
    He narrowed his eyes, urging me to be less glib.
    We walked for almost a mile before Gespenst snorted and
stuttered in his gait. Gideon patted his neck. “I think we’re close. He doesn’t
like strange horses, or strange people at that.”
    He pulled the lever that engaged Sephonie’s bowstring and
loaded a bolt, but he left the point tipped down at his side and behind his
leg, making it less detectable from a distance. “Say your magic words and get
ready to run, Evie.”
    I gathered my cloak tightly around me and whispered my
grandfather’s name as my pulse raced. My heart beat a rhythm