Chapter One: Escape CHAPTER ONE Escape SKANDAR SMITH FELT THE EXPLOSION thundering through the prison. In the blaze of white light from Kenna''s spirit stone, the bars of his cell were blown clean off, along with a chunk of the outer wall. Two of the elemental chains that held the prison aloft clanked as they came loose from the trees that anchored them, and the hanging rock tilted violently toward the ground. Sunlight streamed in and debris filled the air as Skandar crawled out of his cell, desperately searching for his sister and his aunt. There weren''t any sentinels in sight; perhaps they were already rushing for backup. Instead, escaped prisoners filled the space; the blast had blown out their cell doors and walls. Skandar scanned every passing face as people pushed toward the exit ladder that had become dislodged by Kenna''s explosion. The rungs now led all the way to the ground and freedom.
Then, finally--there she was. "Well, that was a bit dramatic," Kenna Smith said, reaching out a hand for her brother. Skandar didn''t take it. Still unsure of her, unsure of. everything. "A bit?" He raised an eyebrow at the utter chaos surrounding them. There was a tug on his bond with Scoundrel''s Luck, a flare of an emotion that they hadn''t felt since Skandar''s Chaos Cup win had been declared void. Since Rex had told the Island that Skandar was the Weaver''s son.
Since Flo had betrayed him. Suddenly the bond was filled with unmistakable, undeniable hope. "Do you know where Scoundrel is?" Skandar asked his sister breathlessly. "What do you think we''re waiting up here for?" Kenna folded her arms, the molten lava and spiked vines of her mutations entwining. She stepped up to the hole she had blown in the side of the rock, her brown eyes fixed on three unicorns flying rapidly toward the prison. One palomino. One black. And one dapple-gray.
Even in its fractured splinters, Skandar''s heart burst with joy at seeing Scoundrel, and the relief in their bond told him that the black unicorn had spotted his rider too. "Scoundrel was being held at the stables in Council Square," Kenna explained. "Goshawk must have caused enough havoc to break him out." She sounded proud. "That was the plan, anyway." Skandar was hit with memories from the arena--Kenna backing down from killing Scoundrel; Goshawk''s Fury and the dapple-gray arriving together, Skandar''s friends galloping to save him on their cursed wild unicorns. Where were Bobby and Mitchell now? "Thoughtful of you to organize my getaway ride." Skandar whirled toward the familiar voice.
Before his eyes could even focus, he was pulled into the arms of Agatha Everhart. "Hello, little spirit wielder," she murmured, and then she jerked backward, checking him for injuries. Skandar did the same. They hadn''t seen each other since her arrest at the Air Festival. His aunt looked worringly thin, and she was covered in black streaks from the explosion. But she was alive. And free--almost. Agatha did not acknowledge Kenna''s presence, though her eyes flicked toward the girl who''d killed her unicorn, perhaps assessing whether to push her from their great height.
"Are you okay?" Skandar asked, voice gravelly. Agatha''s gaze snapped back to him. "You won the Chaos Cup. You''re the Commodore of Chaos. The Commodore !" There was joy in her face. "I''m not," Skandar said, choking out the words. "Rex--" He didn''t know how much she''d heard in the prison. Perhaps she''d managed to listen to his win over the loudspeaker but missed what came afterward.
Agatha shook her head. "No. Absolutely not. Do not say that silver worm''s name. You, Skandar, are the rightful Commodore." "You heard what happened?" He swallowed. "And Flo." Pain flashed across Agatha''s face, and Skandar realized it was the sorrow she felt for him, for what he had lost down in the arena.
"The Island saw you win the Chaos Cup," she growled, gripping Skandar''s shoulder. "Rex has seized power from you. He has stolen it, Skandar. You are Commodore." "Even if that''s true," Skandar mumbled, "I''m not sure it''ll make a difference." Agatha''s eyes were defiant. "We shall see." The three unicorns were now only fifty meters away.
Scoundrel shrieked with happiness as he soared toward his rider. Reunited with his unicorn, Skandar thought he might finally be able to feel something other than the awful numb shock that had settled over him these last few hours. I''m here, boy, he thought, pouring his emotions into the bond. I''m here. Then there were shouts from below, the pounding of hoofbeats. The sentinels were coming. Still, Skandar was relieved that there were no silver unicorns in sight yet--no Silver Sorceress, no Silver Blade. Perhaps the Silver Circle were too busy celebrating.
Perhaps Flo was. The thought made him sick. "Go! Go!" Kenna was shouting, already launching herself from the crumbling edge of the prison toward Goshawk''s skeletal spine. Skandar and Agatha both moved in the same direction, toward a hovering Scoundrel. "Agatha, ride the dapple-gray. She''ll let you!" Kenna shouted over her shoulder. "Scoundrel will be too slow with both of you!" The sentinels were pointing at their most important prisoners, their silver-armored unicorns galloping for takeoff. "She''s wild.
You can''t be serious?" Skandar yelled back at Kenna, but Goshawk was already starting to turn, wings beating furiously. Agatha just muttered, "She''s probably right about the speed," and then she launched herself at the dapple-gray''s rotting back, leaving Skandar no choice but to mount Scoundrel. His aunt swore as the wild unicorn shrieked and tossed her transparent horn unhappily. Kenna and Goshawk soared away from the now airborne sentinels into the afternoon sunlight. Scoundrel and the dapple-gray followed close behind as they flew directly over Fourpoint. Panic clawed at Skandar''s chest. People were shouting and screaming in the colorful streets, pointing at them from treehouse platforms, calling for sentinels. If it had been up to him, Skandar would have headed for the outer reaches of the elemental zones.
He would not have flown back over the capital; he would have tried to hide-- But Kenna was not hiding. The spirit element glowed brightly in her palm, and swept over Goshawk''s Fury, the white light winding through the unicorn''s rib cage, around the bones in her legs, across her sinewy wings. With Agatha astride, the dapple-gray blasted the fifth element too. And Skandar''s aunt was actually laughing--a sound he''d feared he would never hear again. Skandar realized that Kenna and Agatha were sending a message to the false Commodore, Rex Manning--and to the Silver Circle. This is our Island too. Spirit''s light will not be dimmed. So Skandar summoned his own element into the bond, and Scoundrel roared with joy, the sound echoing off the treehouse roofs.
And as the three shining riders flew like shooting stars over the capital toward Kenna''s Eyrie, Skandar hoped he was sending another message too. To his friends. To the Scoundrels'' Resistance. To the Mainlanders fearing for their home. To the Islanders who opposed Rex. His battle cry for anyone who dreamed of a better future. Fight with me. Fight back.
Skandar didn''t even think about Kenna''s shield around the Eyrie until the sentinels chasing them collided with it. The screams of the closest guards pierced the air as the wild magic ravaged their bodies, their unicorns crash-landing onto the hill. Shouts went up, warning those further behind to stay away from the highest plateau and the entrance tree. Kenna didn''t seem to notice, opening the trunk in a flash of white light. "Why didn''t it hurt us?" Skandar asked, once they were safely inside. "My shield is woven with spirit magic," Kenna explained. "It responds to an intruder''s intentions. I modeled it on some of the illusions I read about back when I had The Book of Spirit .
If you don''t mean any harm, then the shield will let you through. If you do, then." The groaning guards were still audible. "We''ll be safe for now." Skandar remembered how the shield had melted his boot the last time he''d attempted to get in here, and wondered what that meant for him and Kenna. Agatha''s face was flickering between her hatred for Kenna and admiration for the clever spirit magic as she dismounted from the dapple-gray. The wild unicorn''s bare ribs were heaving. She was unused to flying, let alone carrying a rider.
When Agatha finally spoke, her voice was flat. "After our display over Fourpoint, it''s possible that more people may wish to come here. Friends, allies, and others wanting to support Commodore Smith." Skandar grimaced at the title. It didn''t feel real. Nothing had felt real since Scoundrel had passed under the finishing arch. He wasn''t ready. He could barely think straight himself, let alone lead anyone else against a vengeful silver rider who had the ability to create Mythical- level predators.
"If new arrivals are on our side, they''ll be able to pass through unharmed," Kenna said, matching Agatha''s businesslike tone. "Like my Originals." As though the words had summoned her followers, three riders--Albert, Adela, and Mateo--came riding between the armored trunks of the pine forest. Skandar not.