Page 117 of Mirror of Malice
“Well, this is going to be fun,” Driscoll said. “Can’t wait for our reunion with your psycho stepmother.”
“Do we have a plan?” Jillian asked.
“Defeat her?” I said with a shrug.
“Okay, so we don’t,” Jillian said. “Just wanted to be clear on that.”
I let out a groan as we trekked across the land, the grass crunchy like it had been burned to a crisp. “I don’t know how to form a plan. I don’t know what’s going to happen. She doesn’t have her mirror anymore, and that’s going to be a blow to her, especially when she realizes I was the one who helped destroy it. She doesn’t even know I’m coming for her. But... as to how I’m actually going to kill her? I haven’t figured that out yet.”
“We’re going to die,” Driscoll said. “At least it’ll be on our terms.”
Jillian linked arms with both of us. “That’s the positivity I like to see.”
The ground trembled under our feet.
“Huh.” Driscoll looked down.
The ground shook again, with more force this time.
“I don’t like that,” Driscoll said.
“Uh, Liliath?” Jillian asked.
“Yes?” I looked at her, her finger pointing straight ahead.
“Remember when you said our visit would be a surprise to your stepmother?”
I followed the direction of her finger, pointed at the Huntsman, who was currently walking straight toward us.
Oh, fuck.
“Spread out!” I instructed.
Behind us, I heard the whinnies of our horses as they ran from the Huntsman.
“Oh, not the horses!” Driscoll yelled, but they were already too far away.
“Let them go,” Jillian said. “We can walk from here.”
“If we survive,” Driscoll mumbled.
We had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The land was flat and barren for miles, nothing but cracked earth and broken trees. And the Huntsman was relentless. He’d find us anywhere in Elwen.
His tree-trunk legs pounded the dirt as he walked, every step he took eliciting a shudder from the ground. Shadow had left us with a few weapons: a dagger for Driscoll, a sword for me, and a few throwing stars for Jillian. None of that was going to be very effective against the Huntsman.
I braced myself as he came closer, holding up my sword, remembering the footwork Wayfinder had taught me during our lessons.
“This really isn’t how I wanted to die,” Driscoll said, his dagger clutched tight in his hand.
“There’s a way you preferred to die?” Jillian asked, eyes darting from the Huntsman to Driscoll.
“Do you have to always be such a smart-ass?” Driscoll asked.
“Can we focus on the problem at hand?” Panic tinged my voice as the Huntsman neared.
He opened his mouth, revealing the sharp thorns that lined it. His beady black eyes stared at us, the vines and branches making up his face twisting and writhing.
“Attack!” I yelled, surging forward and slashing at the Huntsman.
