Black Moon Draw - Page 188/222

"Aye," she admits. "I swore him to secrecy."

Ugh. That makes me feel worse. He was serious about me being his queen. If only I'd known . . .

Am I seriously considering a proposal at a time like this? I don't know what I'm thinking. Regret is heavy in my gullet, settling beside the guilt of knowing I'm the first battle-witch in a thousand years unable to protect the Heart of Black Moon Draw.

I study the cracks of the crust of the bread in my hand. There are moments when I want so badly for this world to be real and others when the possibility of dying in two days horrifies me.

"M'lady." The Desert Knight's harsh tone makes both of us jump.

Disney Princess hops to her feet, gaze sliding to Westley, who enters behind his father. I stand more deliberately, dread sinking into my gut.

"Where is your brother?" the Desert Knight demands gruffly.

"I am unsure, m'lord," she replies with a pretty curtsey. "We were resting."

His tan gaze falls to me and I resist the urge to shrink away. He signals to men behind him and two warriors enter the tent, approaching.

My fingers drop the bread automatically. Before I can move, the two each take an arm. "What's happening?" I ask, heart in my throat.

"New plan, witch." The Desert Knight turns away smartly.

I glance at Disney Princess, who is frowning. "Go get him!" I mouth the words to her.

She nods.

With fear bubbling, I wait to see what horrible fate awaits me.

We step outside the tent, where there are half a dozen horses waiting for us. The Desert Knight says nothing to me and mounts his while the others follow his lead.

Westley motions to the guards, who take me to him. With some effort, they get me on the horse behind the teen, and I wrap my arms around him, not looking forward to yet another trip on horseback. My ass is never going to recover.

If the world ends tomorrow at sunset, I guess it doesn't really matter how sore I am.

Judging by the position of the sun ball in the sky, it's late afternoon. The skies remain dark gray, and the fog appears to grow darker, the closer it is to its source in the city. I lean around Westley to see where he's steering the horse.

Columns upon columns of mounted warriors line the foothills, as far as I can see. They're waiting at the mouth of the pass leading through the mountains. The sight makes my breath catch in my sore throat.

There's no way the Shadow Knight can defeat such an army without his own and without my shitty magic.