The Last Princess [EDITED]

Chapter 21

THE four of us looked up. We exchanged glances and ran after him to see the camp in chaos.

The non-fighters were being herded away, while anyone who could use a weapon was getting ready. Grove and Birch ran up to us, Grove's face tear-streaked.

"Fawn and Meadow. They're gone!"

"What?" Aiden cried.

"Fawn and...Meadow?" Arden said, looking stunned.

They'd gone away somewhere...were they in the camp, or had they ventured into the Forest?

How was this happening? How had Ivy found us again — was it my fault?

Both parents' faces turned even more despairing as they turned towards the front. "Where..." Grove's voice trailed off as shapes emerged from the nearby Forest.

Ivy's soldiers weren't coming. They were already here.

Nobody made a sound, though I could feel the tension and wariness in the air.

The soldiers had appeared silently. Holding hostages.

In a ring around us, soldiers held elves, not fighters — innocents — too far for us to reach. My eyes darted around, and I allowed myself to turn my head- and there they were.

Meadow and Fawn.

Two soldiers held them. Meadow looked terrified, but Fawn had put on a brave face and was murmuring something to the younger girl.

Seeing them captured was terrible but seeing them alive was a huge relief. I turned once more as another r thought caught me. Where was Ivy? I turned in a full circle, searching. But no. She wasn't there.

Why?

I was distracted by Arden's and Birch's ragged breaths and the steely determination on both Grove's and Aiden's faces. Nobody seemed to want to make the first move. The whole Forest seemed to be holding its breath, waiting.

The silence was broken by one elf's scream. Maple and I turned in unison. It was one of the elves who had been fleeing, just moments ago. Her eyes were fixed on a young elf in the hands of a soldier. His mother?

"Conall!" She screamed again, and the spell was shattered. All of Ivy's soldiers drew their swords, metal clinking in a smooth motion as the rebel fighters gripped their weapons. Another elf ran up to the her, pulling her back and pushing her behind him.

A n elf stepped out, at the fore of Ivy's army. His eyes zeroed in on me.

Branch.

As horrifying as Ivy and Forreston were, Branch terrified me in a different way. He saw me as an obstacle, blocking his son's path to the elven throne. He wanted to take my father's place, and I was stopping him.

"Rebels," he started, his voice effortlessly carrying across the camp, trained by loud debates in my father's Council. "We have your children. Surrender, and they will be set free. Otherwise..."

Next to me, Aiden murmured, "Not an option."

It wasn't quite so clear to me.

They were both wrong. No elf in their right mind would abandon their child. But surrendering was impossible, too. The rebels would never surrender. It would mean a fate worse than death, much worse. I would know. I had been there.

Another elf stepped out of our little group. Sir Sorrel.

"Branch," he said threateningly, "Let them go."

Branch actually laughed. Laughed. "Why, Sir Sorrel? Does it remind you of your own fate? You were on the dead king's side, weren't you? Look at your reward. You all will be much better off joining us."