Black Moon Draw - Page 23/222

This isn't acting, though. There are no pauses for comic relief or faked grunting where two knights pretend to fight one another and the swords are definitely not wooden. There are horses with unnaturally glowing blue eyes milling, men fighting, and the wagon obscuring my view. It takes me a moment to figure out whom the White Tree people are fighting.

Panther-man gives away the identity of the attackers.

I suck in a breath, my heart quickening. I read enough about the savage Shadow Knight to presume his men being here does not bode well for me.

"This isn't real," I tell myself once more. "Some horrible, realistic . . ."

One of the Black Moon Draw men with an elephant head whips around to face my direction, his massive ears flaring out like mini-radars on either side of his head. I duck behind the tree and yank the teenager with me.

"Dream. It's a dream," I whisper to myself, starting to panic once more.

The bird cheeps at me. I'm not sure if he's agreeing or arguing. He's bouncing around in my pocket, as if trying to escape. Even a bird knows it's better to get lost in the forest than face Black Moon Draw barbarians.

"We need to separate," the teen says. "I fear being caught with the witch of another kingdom. The penalty is death."

"Seriously?"

He nods.

"I wish you luck then."

"Do you not wish to ask a favor of me?" he asks. "My father is very powerful. He will grant you anything for helping me."

"Not really. I mean, I'm going home soon, so I won't be around to collect," I reply.

He gives me an odd look. "Very well. But if you should need his help or mine, simply tell him Westley sent you."

"Westley?" I start to smile. It's the name of the Hero in The Princess Bride. I'm guessing LF is a fan of the movie. It's one of my top three for sure.

"Fare thee well, witch."

"You, too."

Sturdier on his feet, he nonetheless trips when he starts away. Standing, he waves and hurries into the brush. I'm praying I never need to track him down to ask for a favor because I'll be home soon.

The bird is throwing a hissy fit in my pocket.

"Hush, bird." I peek around the tree once more.

Elephant-ears is gone. Not about to wait for danger to come to me, I lift the cloak to step over a bush then hit the trail at a run and dart deeper into the forest of a world I don't know anything about.

This isn't real. It can't be, because it's impossible.