We run until our legs collapse underneath us, our breaths ragged, and the wave of forest spreading out around us is foreign to eyes and ears. Fog hangs over the early morning air and disguises the trees to look like people. But when we run past, carrying an unconscious crown prince with us and a staggering Binx, now able to run on his own two feet, they don't move.

Every few minutes, I swear I hear the calling of a guard or the king's voice booming overhead as if he's flying in the sky. Those threats subside, only to return later.

Bren and Renit have taken turns carrying Silas's limp body over their shoulder and have even attempted to carry the unconscious prince between them like a log. That ended when Bren tripped over a rock and sent half the limp body flying under Renit's control and they stumbled into a stream, nearly drowning Silas.

From what I believe, we're headed north. I know that's the case when we come across a pond that signals the end of the river spreading across the entire kingdom, and all that remains is a faint trickle in the ocean's direction. We stop there, in the clearing surrounding the pond cast over with fog.

My legs collapse out from underneath me. Immediately, before he can do anything else, Renit drops Silas against a tree and ties his brother to the base with strips of rope pulled together with multiple, clunky knots. Silas's arms are then tied behind him, his ankles together, and Renit goes the extra mile to pin his brother's head against the trunk with a rope there, too.

Silas won't be able to move. It's exactly what we're hoping for.

I drop to my knees at the water's edge at the same time Tesha does the same. We cup the clear, cold liquid into our hands and drink as much as required to feel full again. I look down at my hands; the water casting a faint tint over my skin, and realize I'm covered in blood. Not my own. That of the guard I killed.

I suddenly lose my appetite to drink or eat anything, and I drop the remaining water back into the stream to scrub my hands. Blood leaks away, leaving nothing behind but clean skin, and I use the water to clean off the wounds on my neck. Silas drew blood, and from Tesha's careful stares over my neck, the bruising is visible.

The early morning hues will hide nothing.

Binx stumbles to the water's edge, panting. "I haven't run this much since the war," he says around a dry swallow. The water drips from his hands when he cups it within his brown palms and drinks as quickly and sloppily as he can. Droplets roll down his chin and stop at the lip of his leather armor, soaking into the chain mail underneath.

"I haven't run this much in my entire life," Tesha grumbles in return.

Everyone's cheeks are flushed. We can't breathe through our noses, our entire bodies are shaking, our legs are weak. No one wants to stand. I look behind me, to Renit sitting next to Silas's unconscious body, and Bren, his hands propped against his bent knees and his head thrown back against the trunk of a tree. He licks his dry lips and dips his head low, towards his hand, to remove the sweat-stricken strands of orange hair from his forehead.

This isn't over yet. We made it this far away from the capital, but the king could be right on our tails. The desperation to find the crown prince stretches farther than my disappearance or Binx's. This one, the prize we ripped from his bed, is not something the king will allow to happen without a detailed search. It's only a matter of time before they come marching through from all directions in search of Silas. And the amount of time for Silas to start screaming is even less.

He was unconscious the entire way here, but he'll wake at any moment. Once he realizes he's tied to a tree and the people surrounding him aren't the king or the king's men, he'll do everything it takes to get back to where he belongs. Where he thinks he belongs. At the king's side, in the castle, killing innocent witches and making the strong even stronger.

I think back to the bloodshed in his chambers. I was under the king's control for over two months and my mind never slipped that far. Blood wasn't carried into my chambers like that of decoration and I didn't demolish my living quarters. Silas has only been in this condition for weeks, and to me, to everyone else staring at him and holding their breath, it proves just how far Silas has slipped within his mind.

Not now. But before. His depression got the better of him and the king's control was the final breaking point, whether Silas was able to access the truth to that or not. Either way, that endless pit of despair crept up underneath the king's control like an old friend and reminded Silas it was there, and no one else was.

Silas felt alone.

Although my hands are shaking and my entire body is unsteady, I manage to take the flask from my satchel and fill it with water for Renit. He drinks plenty and when he hands it over to me; I shake my head. As if he knows, he looks down at my hands and the stained sleeve. He chooses not to say anything for my sake and screws the cap back on to keep the rest of the water sealed tight in case we have to run again.

"How long do you think it'll take before the king summons him?" He asks me. Not out of curiosity, but because he knows about my past with it. I know what it feels like to be under the king's summoning. The sensation was similar to someone stabbing me repeatedly until I complied, only the wounds were never fatal.

The summoning will be worse than the entire bond to the king. Worse than what Silas will face if we manage to get him out of this. There may be nothing left to save.

"It depends on how desperate the king is." My voice is as shaken as my body. "It could be anywhere from the next few minutes to an hour. Hopefully, he'll be conscious by then and we can bring him back to his old self."

"We must work fast," Bren says. "The guards will follow our tracks and it won't be long before we have to fight them and run again."

Renit drags a hand down his face. "I can't attempt at bringing him back until he's revived. That way, we can truly know whether it works or not."

"I understand that, but—"

At that moment, Silas's eyes fly open and his head snaps back. I grab Renit's arm, dragging him away from his brother and into the clearing so there's a sizable distance in case Silas is somehow able to break from the holds we've put him in.

His grey eyes, animal-like, scan the entire clearing with such a sloppiness that I wonder if he's merely focusing on body shapes rather than faces. But he knows who we are. And Silas, underneath the king's control, knows what he must do to get away. It's unclear whether the king's control is summoning him yet, but he yanks on the ropes keeping his hands tied like someone is coming at him with a weapon.

Silas thrashes, grunting, but the ropes hold. They tighten around his body and rub against his wrists but he doesn't care. His grunting turns to a scream and Renit stuffs a piece of cloth in his brother's mouth, so far he isn't able to spit it out. Around snapping teeth and drool, the cloth holds. Renit moves as if he's done this before and dealt with more hostile people than what he's dealing with right now.

"I need you to calm down, brother," Renit warns.

Silas spits out the cloth from his mouth.

A voice as cold as death, as haunting as a winter night in which wolves prowl, Silas growls, "You're not my brother."

"Believe it or not, I am your brother. You may not see it now, but I am, in fact, your brother." Renit squats down in front of Silas, only angering the crown prince further.

As the sun starts to rise, it's clear how dark the circles are underneath his eyes. I've never seen eyes so hollow on Silas, not even after Renit and I returned from the rebel capture or after finding the boxes. He's reached a new low, and it's then I realize Renit may be right. We may have nothing left to save, but we have to try. We can't risk the future of this kingdom based on the king's control. That's exactly what he wants.

"You are a traitor," Silas barks. He snaps his teeth at Renit but the rope holds around his neck and his head slams back against the trunk of the tree, shaking the branches. "You are a rebel against the throne, as are the rest of you."

Tesha and Binx, still kneeling by the water's edge, are afraid to move. Bren hasn't adjusted his stance other than to rise from the base of the tree and draw two daggers. He holds them tight but doesn't advance on whether he wants to stab the crown prince through the heart or not. Either that's his focus, or he's more prepared than either of us for guards rushing into the clearing.

Silas turning his neck towards me is so slow, I wonder if it's creaking. "And you, you're the worst of them all. Standing at the king's side, willingly being his third hand, and then deciding he wasn't good enough for you. How he mourns your loss; how he wishes to tear your eyes from your head and rip out your tongue."

"That's enough!" Renit shouts.

I snarl through my teeth and Silas returns the gesture.

"We're going to get you out of there, brother." Renit's voice is softer, it reminds me of a healer reassuring a dying soul on a battlefield. There are wounds, too many to save, and the healer is promising they'll make it until they take their dying breath. Sometimes it's too late. I hope that isn't the case here.

Silas sneers. "You will do nothing. The king's men will be here shortly, we have some of the best trackers in the kingdom. In all the land. You're a fool to take me; all of you."

"You may have the best trackers, but we have many complicated powers amongst this group," I say, extending my hand behind me to gesture towards the remaining witches, and one human, standing around. Each one glares at him with unsettlement. They can't help but fear what Silas has become. "We'll burn your men alive if we have to."

He doesn't bother to hide the note of derision in his laugh. How he's even laughing right now is beyond me, and how sickly it sounds. Silas's laugh, the real Silas, had a laugh that made others smile without realizing they were doing it. His happiness was infectious; this laugh makes me want to huddle in a corner and rock myself to sleep so I don't have to hear it anymore. Even then, it'd creep into my dreams.

"That will be nothing against the king's power," Silas muses. "He's strong, capable, and he'll gut you where you stand."

I smirk. "I'm kneeling, not standing, but whatever you say."

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Renit drop his head to hide his smile. Through lowered brows, Silas glares at me. He doesn't understand the joke I just made, the silent humor we used to share with each other at Renit's expense, rather than his. I hate how the tables have turned in this.

I'd forgotten what it would take to tell Silas of what he did. I'm not ready to tell him.

I open my mouth to hit him with another joke, but Silas's entire body tightens. He throws his head back against the trunk of the tree and screams through his teeth. The summoning. The king is summoning him. Silas's scream cuts through the woods, echoing amongst the trees, and I dare a glance back in the direction of the way we came. We weren't subtle about our trail and if Silas is telling the truth about trackers...

"We need to do this now," I order.

Silas thrashes underneath the ropes. The old and fraying string is beginning to rub against his neck and it won't be long before Silas is bleeding out onto the floor of the woods around us. We don't have much time.

Renit rushes forward and reaches behind for his brother's hand. Against that, the crown prince thrashes. To make matters worse, his screaming echoes farther and farther through the trees. It cuts through the woods, the birds silence, and all life comes to a halt to listen. The waves of the water no longer ripple in the pond, and the fish have swum down to the depths to avoid the vibration that is Silas's pleading to let him go.

A quick slash from Renit's palm has both their hands bleeding. Silas lurches, slamming his head against the trunk, and Renit has no choice but to untie Silas's hands from behind his back. From there, he clamps his skin against Silas's, blood linking together with blood, and my ears start ringing.

Silas is in pain. Either the summoning or Renit's control. I don't know.

Bren and Tesha run past, in the direction of where we came. "We'll make sure no one is coming," Tesha says.

I don't have the chance to tell them to be careful; it doesn't matter. I want to tell Bren that if he doesn't come back, I'll...well, I can't do anything if he's dead. Instead of going with them and helping, I have to remain with Renit as a last line of defense.

Binx is standing next to the water, his brows furrowed. "Binx, go put an illusion over them," I order, pointing after the two running figures through the woods.

"But what if there's—"

"I don't care!" My voice is shrill. "Go protect them. Hide in the trees, put an illusion over yourself. I don't care. Just do it."

He doesn't object this time; he sprints after them and leaves the three of us in the clearing. Now I really have to be aware. There's no one else here to protect us, no one else that'll stop a flying arrow from piercing Renit's back, so I do the one thing I'm used to doing, the one thing I know how to do.

I throw a shield over us, made of solid rock. The ground shakes underneath us and the trees quiver in fear at viewing my power before them, and Silas's screaming is hopefully drowned out to anyone in search of him. I don't want the king to be wandering through these woods, I really don't. We have hardly a defense against him.

"Why isn't it working?" I demand. Silas is still screaming.

"It takes some time," Renit grunts.

Silas attempts to throw his hand away from his brother's, but Renit keeps their palms locked tight. With his legs tied and his entire body strapped against the tree, he can't go very far. But he tries. The effort alone might kill him, among an array of other things. Including me. My heart is pounding and I need to do something to shut him up, just one thing.

I try to stuff the cloth back in his mouth but Silas spits it out. Panic settles in and Silas's voice cracks from screaming. He's losing his voice. This is all I can hope for, all we can wager at a time like this.

I don't know what to do. I don't want to know what's going on outside the shield I've created. All I know is that Silas Marron isn't coming out of the king's hold, and we have little time to spare.