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“What is happening?” Elian asked over the roar of the earth.

Marcellus tore down the stairs. Thicket followed, Elian at her heels. They threw open the front door. Thicket’s stomach dropped, mouth parting in shock. The wall that encircled Bilya was moving.

Chapter Fifteen

The vines shifted, twisting around one another as they tore in and out of the ground, rapidly closing the distance between them.

“Get to the horse,” Marcellus demanded, shoving Thicket into action. The Dymrian horse was yanking at its reins, desperate to get away. Thicket reached for the straps but before her hands could latch around the leather, the brittle wood gave in. The horse wrenched free from its tether and took off in a blink.

“Run!” Marcellus yelled, but Thicket’s feet were already moving, heart pounding in time with her footfalls as she tore past the fence line. Grass whipped at her legs, stinging even through her pant legs. She risked a glance over her shoulder. The back of her eyes burned as she watched the vines smash through the walls of the farmhouse, devouring it whole.

“We won’t make it,” Elian said.

“Just keep running,” Marcellus ground out.

Elian was right. Even if they could outrun it, the wall wrapped around the entire town. It would eventually meet in the middle and crush them. This was one threat they couldn’t run from.

And Thicket was done running.

The obelisk, crowded with too many names. The streets marred with blood. The terrified hollowness that lurked in the shadows of what should have been a vibrant town. All of the atrocities that had happened because of her sister blazed through her mind, falling into place like the pieces of a puzzle—steeling her resolve. She wouldn’t let things stay like this. Her people had already suffered enough. Memories or not, ready or not, she was their Princess and she was going to save them—even if it killed her.

Thicket skidded to a stop. Elian and Marcellus stumbled, struggling to slow.

“Princess, what are you doing?” Marcellus demanded. “We need to run.” He grabbed for her arm but Thicket danced out of reach.

“You two make sure everyone gets out safely. I’ll hold off the wall.”

A vine lurched from the ground. “Fya!” Her flames set the vine ablaze. It shriveled and turned to ash.

“Go,” she urged. “I can handle this.”

Elian took a step back, looking between Thicket and the town, as though unsure of what to do. But Marcellus set his jaw. “I am not leaving you.”

More stray vines approached, coiling like a snake about to strike. Her heart thundered. The wall was almost upon them. She didn’t have time to convince Marcellus to leave her. So she turned to Elian. “Make sure you get everyone out.”

Elian hesitated.

“Please.”

His expression was pained but he nodded. “I had better see you on the other side.” With one last look at the wall, Elian took off.

Marcellus didn’t budge, fixing her with a harsh glare. She could practically see the thoughts whirring behind his eyes. She worried he was going to attempt to drag her away again, but after a long moment, he clicked his tongue, withdrawing his sword. “I hope you have a plan, Princess.”

Thicket let out a small laugh of relief. “Half of a plan,” she admitted, facing the approaching wall. “Fya.” Her fire surged, wrapping around them like a shield. She held her breath as the stray vines collided with the flames. To her relief, they immediately crumbled to cinders.

Part one—success.

Now for the real problem.

Thicket closed her eyes and felt for Lavender’s energy. Unlike the last time she had challenged the magic fueling the wall, her sister’s presence was everywhere, so potent Thicket nearly choked on it.

She willed her magic to rise up and out, intercepting the wall, holding it in place.

Her sister’s magic thrashed, bucking like a wild beast. Thicket fought to hold on to her grip while ensuring the wall of fire remained. After days of cleaning, Marcellus’ bizarre training regime was finally paying off. Yet that didn’t stop her magical energy from draining.

She needed to think. The wall was ginormous. She could only hold it off for so long before her magic gave out.

A sharp sting broke her connection. Thicket’s eyes popped open. They trailed to her leg. One of the vines protruded from her thigh. Blood oozed down her pant leg as the vine continued burrowing its way inside, its barbed edges tearing at her flesh. She cried out, barely able to maintain her hold on her fire as more tendrils crashed through the earth below, disregarding her flames entirely.