The Exiled Queen Read Online Free PDF Page B

Behind them, Han could hear shouted orders and trumpets blaring.
    Crossbows sounded, the guardsmen firing blindly over the gate-house. Han pressed his head against Ragger’s neck to make a smaller target.
    Fiona shouted, “Take him alive, you idiots! My father wants him alive!” After that there were no more crossbows, which was a blessing because the road between the border and Delphi was broad and gently sloping. Once their pursuers made it over or around Han’s barrier, he and Dancer would make pretty targets.
    Han looked back in time to see Fiona blast a ragged hole through the blazing hedge. The two wizards burst through, followed by a triple of unenthusiastic mounted guardsmen. The bluejackets likely had no desire to come up against anyone who could fling flame and thorns.
    “Here they come,” Han shouted, urging Ragger to greater speed.
    “Guess they’ve decided to get in your way,” Dancer called back.
    Han knew Dancer would have plenty to say later. If there was a later.
    The wizards were already gaining on them, eating up their lead. They’d eventually catch up, with a broad road before them and their long-legged flatland horses giving them the advantage of speed. There was no way he and Dancer could win against two better-trained wizards. Not to mention a whole triple of bluejackets.
    What came over you, Alister? Han said to himself. Whatever faults he had, stupidity wasn’t one of them. It might be tempting to confront Fiona Bayar, but he’d never entangle Dancer in a grudge match he was likely to lose.
    Han remembered how the magic had felt coursing through him like strong drink. And like strong drink, it had made him lose his head. Likely it was because he didn’t know what he was doing. Tightening his grip on his reins, he resisted taking hold of the amulet again.
    “We’ve got to get off this road,” he shouted, spitting out dust. “Is there someplace we can turn off?”
    “How should I know?” Dancer shouted back. He looked ahead, squinting against the declining sun. “It’s been a while.” They thundered on another half mile, and then Dancer called, “You know, there is a place up ahead where we might lose them.”
    Delphi Road followed a clear trout stream, sharing the valley it had carved through the declining Spirits to the south. Dancer looked off to the left, seeking a landmark. Han rode up beside him, trying to maintain their breakneck pace.
    “Along here Kanwa Creek turns west, and the road runs due south,” Dancer said. “We can turn off and follow the creek and maybe lose them. It’s a narrow canyon, rocky and steep. Made for ponies, not for flatlander horses. Look for a rock shaped like a sleeping bear.”
    The turnoff couldn’t come too soon. As the sound of pursuit grew louder, Han turned his head and saw that the two wizards were now only three or four pony lengths behind them. When Fiona saw Han looking, she stood in her stirrups and dropped her reins. Fumbling at her neck, she extended her other hand.
    Flame rocketed toward Dancer. Had Fiona not been on horseback, it might have struck true. At it was, it seared Wicked’s shoulder. The pony screamed and veered to the left, crashing into Ragger and nearly launching all of them from the road.
    Han struggled to keep his pony from going down, while Dancer wrenched Wicked’s head back into the straight.
    The message was clear: Fiona Bayar wanted Han alive, but Dancer was fair game.
    Han yanked his blade free, expecting to find their pursuers right on top of them. When he looked back, he was surprised to see Fiona and Wil falling behind, fighting to regain control of their rearing and plunging horses. The bluejackets bunched up behind them, trying to avoid colliding with the two wizards. It seemed the wizards’ blueblood mounts weren’t trained to carry riders launching flaming attacks.
    “There it is!” Dancer pointed ahead to where a massive granite boulder bulked into the road, squeezing it from the left. It did,