Page 74 of The Huntsman's Heart
I tug frantically at my bonds, but the gargoyles left me no quarter. No chance of escape. I shout for them, but of course they don’t answer. I howl in frustration, but it makes nodifference how much the princess needs me, I cannot answer that need.
Eventually I fall silent, staring at the sky, willing it to lighten. Twenty times I imagine dusk’s pink creeping over the treetops only to be disappointed. When it finally comes, I almost miss it. I pray to all the gods it is not too late.
I start up my shouting again, hoping to rouse the gargoyles the moment they waken. It is Raban who stirs first, his feathered wings stretching as he glides down toward me.
“Quick! No time to lose. You must untie me.”
“I cannot do that,” he replies sadly.
“You don’t understand. The princess is in danger. We need to go now.”
A flicker of worry passes over his pretty face. “We promised her. She told us to keep you safe.”
“Listen to me. If you had to choose between her safety and mine, which would you choose?”
His brows furrow. “Hers. Always.”
“As would I. Please believe me. She has done it again—borrowed too many vessels. She is either lost to us already or very close to it. We must find her.”
His blue eyes widen and he takes a step closer. “You swear you are not trying to deceive me?”
I press my eyes closed for a moment, trying to keep calm. His question is fair, but I have no way to prove myself to him. “I swear it.”
Before I can say more, Corvin and Évandre join us, casting Raban suspicious looks. “Do not listen to him, brother,” says Corvin.
“Wait, he says our princess is in danger.”
Corvin rolls his eyes. “Of course she is. She went back to challenge her stepmother.”
“No, he says she borrowed again. Many, many times the number she did before. Is that not so, Alaric?”
“It is. Please. Every moment we waste arguing is a moment she needs us. If you don’t believe me, then follow. Bind me again if I’m lying—”
“You know we cannot leave our perches.”
I growl in frustration. “The castle is crumbling. What’s to stop you simply tearing the stone you perch on and taking it with you?”
Corvin’s eyes widen.
Évandre has been quiet the whole time. Now he places his hand on Corvin’s shoulder. “His suggestion is clever. Is it worth considering?”
“How could it work? It is just another trick.”
“Consider what we have to lose if he is telling the truth,” Évandre says levelly.
That makes Corvin pause. I want to jump to my feet and throttle the dark-haired gargoyle, but I can hardly blame him for being suspicious of me.
“Let me try,” Raban says. He gives me a sympathetic look. “I will only take a moment,”
Spreading his wings, he flies up to the spot on the wall where he perches during the day, Bracing his foot against the stone below, he bends and tears the stone plinth from the wall. He may look slim, but his tapered frame hides a surprising strength. The stone lifts and he carries it to the ground with a grin.
The hounds have been sniffing at my feet until now. As Raban drops to the ground they set to barking, racing around his feet in circles and nearly tripping him. He strides toward the gates and on into the woods. I do not know how far they think he can go, but eventually Corvin and Évandre grow restless beside me.
“Has it worked?”
Corvin scoffs. “No. He is fooling around.”
“It has worked!” Raban shouts back. “I feel like I could walk all day. I cannot fly though. Not far anyway.”
