But it wasn't until they were almost at the castle that the hunt caught up with them.
They had somehow finished the long, demandingtrek down the mountain. Maggie was burning withpride for P.J. and Cady. And then, all at once, thebaying of the hounds came, terribly close and get ting louder fast.
At the same moment, Jeanne stopped and cursed,staring ahead.
"What?" Maggie was panting heavily. "You seethem?"
Jeanne pointed. "I see the road.I'm an idiot.They're coming right down it, much faster than we can go through the underbrush. I didn't realize wewere headed for it."
P.J. leaned against Maggie, her slight chest heaving, her plaid baseball hat askew.
"What are we going to do?" she said. "Are theygoing to catch us?"
"Not" Maggie set her jaw grimly. "Well have togo back fast - 2'
At that moment, faintly but distinctly, Cady said,"The tree."
Her eyes were half shut, her head was bowed,and she still looked as if she were in a trance. Butfor some reason Maggie felt she ought to listen to her.
"Hey, waitlook at this." They were standing at the foot of a huge Douglas fir. Its lowest brancheswere much too high to climb in the regular way,but a maple had fallen against it and remainedwedged, branches interlocked with the giant, forming a steep but climbable ramp. "We can go up."
`You're crazy, "Jeanne saidagain."We can't possibly hide here; they're going to go right by us. And besides, how does she even know there's a tree here?"
Maggie looked at Arcadia. It was a good question, but Cady wasn't answering. She seemed to bein a trance again.
"I don't know. But we can't just stand aroundand wait for them to come." The truth was that herinstincts were all standing up and screaming at her,and they said to trust. "Let's try it, okay? Come on,P.J.,can you climb that tree?"
Four minutes later they were all up. We're hiding in a Christmas tree, Maggie thoughtasshe lookedout between sprays of flat aromatic needles. Fromthis height she could see the road, which was justtwo wheel tracks with grass growing down the middle.
Just then the hunt arrived.
The dogs came first, dogsasbigasJake the Great Dane, but leaner. Maggie could see their ribsclearly defined under their short, dusty tan coats.Right behind them were people on horses.
Sylvia was at the front of the group.
She was wearing what looked like a gown splitfor riding, in a cool shade of glacier green. Trottingbeside her stirrup was Gavin, the blond slave traderwho'd chased Maggie and Cady yesterday and had run to tattle when Delos killed Bern with the blue fire.
Yeah, they're buddy-buddy all right, Maggiethought. But she didn't have time to dwell on it.Coming up fast behind Sylvia were two other people who each gave her a jolt, and she didn't knowwhich shock was worse.
One was Delos. He was riding a beautiful horse,so dark brown it was almost black, but with reddish highlights. He sat straight and easy in the saddle, looking every inch the elegant young prince.
The only discordant note was the heavy brace on his left arm.
Maggie stared at him, her heart numb.
He was after them. It was just as Jeanne hadsaid He was hunting them down with dogs. Andhe'd probably told Sylvia that he hadn't really killedtwo of the slaves.
Almost inaudibly, Jeanne breathed, "You see?"Maggie couldn't look at her.
Then she saw another rider below and froze inbewilderment.
It was Delos's father.
He looked exactly the way he had in Delos'smemories. A tall man, with bloodred hair and acold, handsome face. Maggie couldn't see his eyes at this distance, but she knew that they were afierce and brilliant yellow.
The old king. But he was deadMaggie was tooagitated to be cautious.
"Who is that? The redhaired man," she murmured urgently to Jeanne.
Jeanne answered almost without a sound."Hunter Redfern."
"It's not the king?"
Jeanne shook her head minutely. Then, whenMaggie kept staring at her, she breathed. "He'sDelos's greatgrandfather. He just came. I'll tell youabout it later."
Maggie nodded. And the next instant it wasswept out of her head as P.J.'s hand clutched at her and she felt a wave of adrenaline.
The party below was stopping.
The hounds turned and circled first, forming ahesitant clump not twenty feet down the road.
When the people pulled up their horses they werealmost directly below Maggie's tree.
"What is it?" the tall man said, the one Jeannehad called Hunter Redfern.
And then one of the hounds changed. Maggiecaught the movement out of the corner of her eyeand looked quickly, or she would have missed it.
The lean, wiry animal reared up, like a dog tryingto look over a fence. But when it reached its fullheight it didn't wobble or go back down. It steadied, and its entire dusty-tan body rippled.
Then, as if it were the most natural thing in theworld, its shoulders went back and its arms thickened. Its spine straightened and it seemed to gainmore height. Its tail pulled in and disappeared. Andits hound face melted and re-formed, the ears andmuzzle shrinking, the chin growing. In maybetwenty seconds the dog had become a boy, a boy who still wore patches of tan fur here and there,but definitely human-looking.
And he's got pants on, Maggie thought distractedly, even though her heart was pounding in herthroat. I wonder how they manage that?
The boy turned his head toward the riders. Maggie could see the ribs in his bare chest move withhis breathing.
"Something's wrong here," he said. "I can't followtheir life force anymore."
Hunter Redfern looked around."Are they blocking it?"
Gavin spoke up from beside Sylvia's stirrup.
"Bern said they were blocking it yesterday."