“Where are we going?” Cyrus asked, his heart punching at his ribs.
“You have to escape over the fence and flee. Sail your boat away fromhere. It’s your only hope.”
Sail his boat away? Where? There was no land around as far as the eye couldsee. It was suicide!
“Why are you doing this?” Cyrus asked, between gasping breaths.
“Because you risked your life to save mine,” she answered, her skinsmooth and pale, and her cheeks aglow with life.
“Duck,” she whispered.
The two lay flat on the wet earth beside each other. The sound ofseveral villagers trampling along the grass came from the opposite side of thebush.
“He could have gone anywhere,” a deep voice said.
“Probably had help from the Sea Zombie herself,” said another.
Cyrus could not tell if the damp all over his body was from the wetground and drizzling rain, or from his sweating in terror. He could feel Sarahshift beside him. She felt warm like a small furnace.
“We gotta keep moving,” a third voice said.
The group continued on south along the field.
“Let’s go,” Sarah said, under her breath.
She hopped to her feet and helped Cyrus off the ground. They ran likehunted foxes through the woods, vapor gusting from their lungs and their eyesalways over their shoulders. They came to the Ring Road and peeked out of theforest. The gravel street looked empty.
“Quick, while there’s still time,” Sarah said.
Cyrus’ ears caught something barely audible. He grabbed Sarah’s wristjust as she was about to spring out. He looked at her, pleading and wide-eyed,and pulled her behind a tree. Twigs snapped and popped under heavy feet along thetrail behind them. Cyrus fell low to the earth and peered out. The two guardsfrom the tent came stalking through the woods. One carried an ax; the other aheavy tree limb.
“If we lose him, it’ll be our hides for sure,” the fat one said.
“Then let’s be sure not to lose him,” the burly one replied.
Their faces were red and soiled and their shirts sweaty and wrinkled.
“I heard him here a minute ago,” the fat one whispered.
“Then he can’t have gone far.”
The burly guard nodded to his partner and the two split up. The burlyguard made his way out onto the Ring Road and looked about. The fat guardstepped through the underbrush, slowly moving in Cyrus and Sarah’s direction.Cyrus pulled himself back behind the tree. He and Sarah would be caught for sure. Sarah put a hand on hisshoulder, and he almost screamed. Helooked back at her; his mind blank with fright. She pointed at herself and madea running motion with her fingers; then pointed at Cyrus and did the same inthe opposite direction. She was planning on running off and leading the guardsaway so Cyrus could escape. No! She would be taking too big a risk. Heheard the fat man shift behind the tree. He saw his meaty hand slide around thetree’s trunk. Cyrus grabbed a fist full of dirt and rose to his feet. Just ashe saw the whites of the guard’s eyes peer around the trunk, Cyrus loosed thedirt into his fat mug.
“Ahhh!” the guard screamed, dropping his cluband clawing at his face.
“What’s all that racket?” the burly guard shouted, from the road.
“It’s him. He’s thrown dirt in my eyes!”
Sarah stood up and began to move further into the woods. Cyrus grabbedher wrist. She pulled free and put a finger to her lips, then quickly ran intothe forest. Cyrus heard the burly guard come crashing through the trees, towardshis fallen comrade. If Cyrus ran across the Ring Road, towards the Dead Fence,the guards would hear or see him, and hewould be caught. He began to crawl slowlyaway from the tree, through a bush and down into a roadside ditch.
“Where is he?” the burly guard asked, his voice full of rage.
“How am I supposed to know? He blinded me,” the fat guard whined.
Cyrus peered over the bank and through the bushes. He saw the burlyguard come stalking around the tree. The man looked left; then right, then beganto move in his direction. Cyrus readied himself to run as best he could. Withthe chipped and dinged ax, the man began topart the bushes above Cyrus’ head. Run, you idiot, he thought. But fearkept him frozen in place. The man’s sweating, dripping nose started to pokethrough the part in the brush. Cyrus bit back a scream.
“Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh!”
Cyrus panicked and grabbed his mouth, but quickly realized the cry didnot come from his lips. It came from further in the forest. The burly guardturned and ran in the direction of the cry.
“What’s going on?” the fat guard shouted, stumbling blindly after hispartner.
“I saw him, I saw him!” Cyrus heard Sarah say, just beyond the trees,“He shoved me over and ran that way!”
Cyrus held still, watching the woods and listening. Were the guardscoming back? Was Sarah in trouble? He could not see or hear a thing. He stoodlistening for several moments. Then he began to make his way out of the ditch.
“Cyrus?” a voice whispered.
He turned and to his relief saw Sarah creeping out of the brush.
“Over here,” he answered back.
She slid down the bank and into the ditch.
“There’s no time. They’ll be backsoon,” she said.
Cyrus took her by the hand and pulled her across the road. They raced throughHekswood Forest, splashing up mud and whipping pastsharp branches. They arrived at a clearing and crouched beside a tree. Therethe vegetation stopped, and the DeadFence’s dried and cracked earth began. Cyrus scanned the area for danger. Thecoast was clear. He looked to Sarah. She was afraid, wide-eyed and beautiful,with twigs in her hair and mud on her face.
“Cyrus, you have to go,” she said, “I know you didn’t do what the Mayorsays, but they’ll never forgive you. You have to sail away and never come back.Go to Myrkur Island. You’ll be safe there.”
But Cyrus knew that that was not true. Myrkurwas crumbling just like Virkelot. It would only be amatter
