Chapter 25: Fuzzy & Sparkly

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I expect to gallop through the door, but we walk rather undramatically toward the opening. The shield hits the vine, and I can barely hold it. "I'm facing the wrong way. I need to see."

"Are you sure you want to be in front? You don't have your actual shield. If your wand fails, the vines and arrows will hit you first. Plus, you don't know where we're going."

I have to relax. I don't need to see what I'm doing. I didn't have to watch when I tunneled out of the dirt. I can do this. I have to do this. "I'll stay in back. I have to concentrate on making a shield that doesn't trip Stryder. I'm not sure I can do that and navigate at the same time."

"Okay, you're the gunner," he says. That's a human military term. Dathid uses them occasionally when he thinks familiarity will relax me. I was never in the military, so it has the opposite effect.

I reinforce the shield, and Stryder takes an uneasy step forward. Dathid strokes his neck and mutters words of encouragement. The vines press and push but slide away. We slowly get through the opening. I extend the shield around us, but vines are persistent.

"I can't do this," I say as we break free, my voice betraying every ounce of my fear. 

A thick canopy covers our heads. I have no idea where we are. Outside the curtain wall are fields, farms, and the little town near the gate.  "Did we go through a portal? Where are we?"

"We're on the Southwest side of the castle," Dathid whispers as he pats Stryder's shoulder. "The vine has already covered every tree and structure. It will continue to fill in the gaps until this area is packed tight."

Roots fall from the high branches and choke the undergrowth. Stryder carefully picks his way through the leafless tendrils covering the ground. I can move the vines that are in our path with little effort. The roots hanging from tree limbs are a problem. They grow so fast it's like they're moving. They fall from the high vines and strike the shield hard. They hang on and try to find an opening. More and more of them are falling. Soon, we won't be able to see.

"It's too hard. There's too many. I can't keep them out." My arm is shaking, and sweat is pouring down my back.

"Agatha, on my mark, drop the shield. Cut everything in front of your sword."

"Okay," I whisper, pulling my sword. This will never work, but we don't have another option.

"Now!" he shouts.

I drop the shield. Roots and vines fall in my lap. The barbs hit like wasp stings. Stryder kicks and shakes them off. He's also shaking me loose. The thorny tendrils cut through my armor and sting my arms and legs. One gets the side of my unprotected neck and makes my breath catch in my throat.

The vines stick to us when they land. I rip them off of me, but that makes the thorns stay in my skin. The roots wrap around anything they come in contact with. I brush them off Stryder first and then from my shoulders and legs.

"Agatha, focus the shield to the front. We're going to have to make a run for it."

I make a wedge-shaped shield, and we take off at a full gallop. I'm terrified Stryder is going to trip. The underbrush is thick. The vines have knocked down dozens of trees, and there's debris everywhere. Every step sends us colliding with poisonous barbs and tangled roots.

We furiously swing at our enemy, continually freeing ourselves from the thorny shoots. It's as if we're riding through a hornet's nest. My armor does nothing to protect against the thorns. I'm peppered with so many barbs I'm dizzy and nauseous.

We pass a red soldier jumping over a downed tree trunk. I watch as he reaches for his bow. "Grucht Leisck!" I shout and sheath my sword to grab my bow. I've never had to use it while holding my wand. I should've practiced this before I had to do it for real. I aim for his throat and release.

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