I’ve been commanded by a lot of people in my time. Some of them were pretty good at it, and a few were even good enough to make me listen. Quentin had heritage and history on his side, but he didn’t have the practice, and when you’re trying to make me do what you want, practice is what counts. It also helps if you’re not down on your hands and knees.

I snorted. “I’m sorry, but no. Go home. It’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t care. They have Katie. I’m not going anywhere until we get her out.”

“There’s no ‘we’ here, Quentin. You have to go.”

“Why? This can’t be worse than when we went to help Jan, and I was good enough to go with you then. I’m staying. You can’t make me leave.”

How the hell was I supposed to tell him about Blind Michael? No one could have warned me about him. You can’t describe something so vast and old that it blanks out the sky; the words just aren’t there.

“Quentin, look at me,” I said, “Really look at me. This isn’t some kind of illusion—this is real. This isn’t the world you’re used to. We’re on an Islet. What does that tell you?”

“That things work differently here,” he said. Spike leaped off his shoulder, padding over to lean against my knee. I automatically started scratching under its chin. My pets have me well trained. Undaunted, Quentin said, “The Luidaeg warned me. I’m not scared.”

Of course he wasn’t scared. The fear comes later, after the hurting starts. “You need to go home.”

“Not without Katie.” His voice seemed to echo through the brambles and out to the plains. I cringed. He didn’t have a candle; Blind Michael could see him. If we kept fighting, I might be responsible for getting him caught.

“Fine, whatever,” I hissed, “But I’m in charge here, understand? You listen to me.”

“Of course,” he said, and smiled. My giving the orders and his taking them was a familiar pattern. Hopefully this time we could skip the part where I almost get him killed.

I gave him a bleak look and shook my head, turning to crawl out of the brambles. “Follow me.”

Getting back into the open was easier for me than it was for him: sometimes size really does matter. He had to back out, while I was able to crab-walk, only touching the ground for balance. Spike rode on my shoulder, pressed flat. It crooned as we moved, obviously glad to see me. I was glad to see it, too. I knew Spike could take care of itself, and having it along meant that if something happened to me, Quentin wouldn’t be alone.

Quentin stayed close, swearing when thorns caught in his clothes and hair. I didn’t feel sorry for him. He’d followed me into Blind Michael’s lands of his own free will, and I’d send him back if I could. We’d been through too much together. I didn’t want to see him hurt again. And he’d made sure that there was nothing I could do about it. Damn it. Why are we always so stupid when it comes to our own survival? How much of that was he learning from me?

I straightened once I was clear of the thorns, leaving Quentin still struggling to get free. The night seemed even darker without the brambles making a ceiling overhead to trap the candlelight.

Quentin finally got loose. I grabbed his sleeve, hushing him. I’ll give him this much: he froze, waiting for my signal before he did anything else. I couldn’t hear anyone coming—yet. That didn’t mean they weren’t on the way. “Quentin?”

“Yeah?”

“Run.” We bolted from cover together, my shorter legs pumping madly as I fought to keep up. The forest was a smudge on the horizon, holding darkness and shadows and Blind Michael’s lady. There was nothing there with reason to be friendly, but the Riders hadn’t been willing to follow me past the trees when I hid there before. We’d be safe a little longer if we could make it that far. Having Quentin along changed everything. He had no candle to hide him and no weapons I could see; he was defenseless, and it was up to me to get him out of the way as quickly as I could. We were almost there. All we had to do was keep running.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when the Riders stepped out of the fog at the forest’s edge. I really shouldn’t have. Quentin stumbled to a stop, and I pulled up a foot behind him, barely avoiding a collision. Spike dug its claws into my shoulder and hissed, starting to make a low, almost subsonic snarling noise.

The nearest Rider leveled his sword at Quentin, ignoring me entirely. “Tag,” he said. “You’re it.”

“Toby, run,” Quentin whispered, drawing himself up to his full height. Oh, sweet Titania. He was going to try to be a hero so that I could get away. “You have to save Katie.”

I’ve never been any good at playing the damsel in distress and no matter how young I looked, I was way too old to start. “Like hell,” I snapped, shoving myself in front of him and looking up at the Rider with a brilliant smile. “Hey, asshole. Can I help you?”

The helmet swung toward me. “You’re it,” he repeated, sounding somewhat unsure.

“You said that already.” I tried to ignore the Riders circling us. My small, screaming urge toward self-preservation wasn’t making it easy. Everyone has a little voice that tells them when they’re doing something stupid. I’ve gotten very good at ignoring mine over the years. Spike’s hissing was harder to ignore. Well, Spike could take care of itself. “So what now? Are we supposed to start hunting you? If that’s the case, I want your horse. My feet are tired.”

“What are you doing?” hissed Quentin. “Stop teasing them and run! I’ll hold them off!”

“Sorry, but no,” I said. If I was going to die, I wasn’t going to do it cringing. Not in the middle of my most spectacular failure yet. “You couldn’t hold off my cats. What the hell are you doing coming here unarmed, anyway?”

“But—”

“No buts. Here.” I turned, pressing my candle into his hands. The Riders saw him when he wasn’t the one holding it. Hopefully, this could change the game. “Hold this for me, okay?”

“What are you—”

“You can get there and back by the light of the candle. Remember that.” The Riders had shifted focus, becoming less concerned with Quentin and more interested in Spike and me. The candle was working, thank Oberon. “Well, boys? Are we gonna party or what?”