The Burning Sky Read Online Free PDF Page A

leave.”
    She hurried after him. The satchel was heavy. “What’s in the bag?” 
    â€œI don’t know. I’ve never opened it.”
    Why not?
    In a corner of his bedchamber stood a large trunk, which had followed them through many moves. As he unlocked the trunk and lifted the lid, she saw its inside for the first time. It was completely empty—a portal trunk. “Where am I going?”
    â€œI don’t know that either.”
    Her stomach twisted. “What do you know?”
    â€œThat you have put yourself in terrible danger.” He closed his eyes briefly. “Now get inside.”
    The house exploded. Walls caved; debris hurtled. She screamed, threw herself down, and shielded her head with the satchel. Chunks of brick and plaster pummeled her everywhere else.
    When the chaos had died down a little, she looked around for Master Haywood. He was flat on the floor among the wreckage, bleeding from a head wound. She rushed to his side.
    â€œAre you all right, Master Haywood? Can you hear me?”
    His eyelids fluttered open. He looked at her, his gaze unfocused.
    â€œIt’s me, Iolanthe. Are you all right?”
    â€œWhy are you still here?” he shouted, struggling to his feet. “Get in the trunk! Get in!”
    He grabbed the satchel from her and tossed it into the trunk. She took a deep breath and hauled herself over the trunk’s high sides. He pulled on the lid. She held it open with the palm of her hand. “Wait, aren’t you coming w—”
    He crumpled to the floor. 
    â€œMaster Haywood!”
    Through the chalky air, a matronly figure advanced. Mrs. Oakbluff waved her wand. Master Haywood’s inert body went flying, landing with a thud in the next room and missing being impaled upon a broken beam by mere inches.
    Mrs. Oakbluff came at Iolanthe.
    Â 
    Where had they vaulted?
    The village was not big, but it still had some forty, fifty dwellings of varying sizes. The villagers stopped what they were doing to gawk at Marble, her shadow gliding on rooftops and cobbled streets like a harbinger of doom.
    The prince assessed the situation. Were he the father or the guardian—who obviously understood the implications of what the girl had done—would he have already gone on the run? Unlikely. He would want to return to their home nearby, where he had a bag packed for just such an emergency and a swift means to safety. 
    But where was home?
    The prince had zoomed past the small house that sat apart from the rest of the village when a movement caught his eye. He turned his head, hoping it was the man and the girl rematerializing. Only one mage, however, stood before the house—not the long-haired girl, but a squat woman.
    Disappointed, he continued his search. Only to see, a minute later, the same house shaking violently before collapsing on itself. 
    He reined Marble as close to a full stop as he dared and vaulted for the now crooked front steps of the house.
    Â 
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Iolanthe wanted to shout in indignation, but her voice was barely above a whimper.
    â€œImpressive, isn’t it?” Mrs. Oakbluff smiled, but her square face was without its usual rustic goodwill. “Did you know I once worked in demolition?”
    â€œYou destroyed our house because I damaged the flagpole?”
    â€œNo, because you resisted arrest. And I need the credit for your arrest, young lady—I’ve been in this wretched place too long.”
    Credit for her arrest, not Master Haywood’s. Mrs. Oakbluff, soon-to-be in-law of Atlantis’s staunchest collaborators in all of Midsouth March, clearly believed seizing Iolanthe would bring her special rewards.
    The fear that had been welling up in Iolanthe suddenly boiled over. She yanked on the lid of the trunk, but it refused to lower.
    â€œOh, no, I’m not letting you go so easily,” said Mrs. Oakbluff.
    She raised her wand toward Iolanthe.