A Specter patrol was riding back toward the castle, a cluster of dark banners and armored horses cutting across the grass. Josh squinted at the lead rider.
“Now that is luck!” He whistled, sharp and loud.
The patrol changed course and rode toward us. As they closed the distance, Josh’s face changed.
“So much for luck,” he muttered.
Darien was at the front.
His eyes found me first. I watched the worry flood his face as he took in the picture: me cradled in Josh’s arms, covered in mud, missing a shoe. He leapt off his horse before it had fully stopped and was in front of us in three strides.
I reached my arm out to him.
He took me out of Josh’s arms and pulled me against his chest. My arms went around his neck. I kissed his cheek, softly, to tell him I was fine before he could decide
