Shadows of Sherwood (40 page)

“I don't know.”

Scarlet handed it back. “Trigger it, and let me take a look.”

Robyn held the sphere tight. “See? Nothing.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes. “Well, you're just holding it, so no wonder. It needs all three from you.” She added, “Breath, blood, and bone.”

“No, that can't be.” Robyn started to protest. The first time she had opened it, in the woods, all she had done was touch it. No—she had blown some leaves off it. Her fingers had been scratched and bleeding.

Robyn groaned in exasperation. How could she have been so stupid? The directions were written right there on the sphere itself. But it was a bit extreme, wasn't it, asking for actual flesh and blood?

She dragged her pinky finger against the rough edge of the stone pillar until she felt the sharp sting of drawn blood.

The sphere began to glow.

“Give it here,” Scarlet said. But Robyn's gaze gravitated toward the image of her father rising from her palm.

“First I need to listen,” Robyn said. “The sphere was broken before. I never heard his whole message.”

“We don't have
time
,” Scarlet insisted. She plucked the sphere from Robyn's hand.

Robyn fought the urge to grab the sphere and run. Dad was speaking now, but over the sounds of the MPs scuffling in the fairground, it was too hard to hear his voice.

Scarlet laid the sphere on her tablet and poked away at the screen alongside it. Dad's image disappeared. “Okay, I can record you. Go,” Scarlet said.

“Wait—” Robyn panicked. “Did you delete my dad?”

“No,” Scarlet said. “There's plenty of room. I'll start it again. Stand up and say something . . .”

Robyn stood behind the pillar and spoke the recording. She didn't think, or plan, or know what was coming next. She didn't have to. The words poured out, unbidden. She could feel a thrum in her chest that was almost musical.

When she was done, Scarlet stopped the recording and clicked away at her tablet screen. Merryan and Tucker stared up at Robyn with wide eyes and parted lips.

“What?” she said, suddenly self-conscious.

“That was really cool,” Merryan breathed.

“You are definitely going in my paper,” Tucker said.

Robyn knelt beside them. Her body felt flushed and full, an energy pulsing through her veins, beating harder even than the pulse of her own blood.

“I can give it a one-minute start delay,” Scarlet said, tapping away. “Long enough for you to start it and get out of sight.”

“Great.” The sphere would only open for Robyn. She was going to have to start it herself.

“The MPs will all run this way when they see me,” she said. “They won't be watching the crowd. By the time they realize it's a hologram, maybe we can get some people to safety in the woods.”

The others agreed. They ran off toward the woods side of the fairgrounds. Robyn gave them several minutes head start, then climbed the pillar, rubbed and blew on the hologram sphere, then set it up top. It rested easily in the grout groove between the stones.

One minute to get as far away as possible. Robyn scrambled down the pillar. It was no harder than climbing out her bedroom window. It reminded her of simpler times.

From the truck bed, Mallet called out, “All right, Robyn. If you won't come forward to save these strangers. Maybe you will to save a friend.”

Robyn's heart stilled. She paused in her crouch-run and dared to look over the wall. In the back of another pickup, two MPs lifted a bound prisoner to his feet. He had been lying down, out of sight.

Robyn glanced back in horror at the top of the pillar. The hologram was already set—but now she knew she couldn't flee to the woods with the others. Key was in danger!

 

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

Elements Gather, All to Fight

Robyn ran on as the hologram came to life high above. In an instant, the MPs' attention was all on the pillar where she appeared to stand.

“Here I am!” her synthetic voice boomed. Scarlet had set the volume ultraloud. “But you'll never catch me.”

It occurred to Robyn, as she raced along the wall, that they had never actually tested the hologram—had the new wire she put in place actually fixed the projection problem properly?

It's going to flicker
, she thought worriedly.
It's going to die, and the jig will be up.

But the image held true. “Sheriff Mallet, leave the people of Sherwood alone. They have done no wrong. It is me you want. I'm here to surrender.”

“Get her!” Mallet ordered.

A collection of MPs abandoned crowd control and dashed across the lot to surround the pillar.

“You can have me, but you can't have Sherwood. You can bring me down, but you can't bring down Sherwood. Take me, and the people will take care of the rest.”

The MPs circled the pillar. They were large guys, in heavy boots that made it hard to climb the pillar. Robyn's hologram-self appeared untouchable. The people on the fairgrounds began to laugh and cheer.

From her place along the wall, Robyn saw Merryan and Tucker dart out of the woods, motioning for people to follow them to safety. Strangely, though, the people refused to follow. They looked up at Robyn, waving and clapping instead.

“We are Sherwood,” Robyn's voice bellowed. “Join me. All breath, all blood, all bone: For Sherwood, unite. For Sherwood, we fight!”

Then the sound of singing filled the air. Robyn stumbled over her feet. That was her own voice—singing! Had she sung into the recording? The memory of speaking into the hologram felt hazy. As if the words—and the song?—had risen out of her from some place beyond.

The tune was a lullaby her parents used to sing to her, mixed with Laurel's lyrics:

Gather the Elements as you will:

Earth to ground you, Water to fill,

Air to sustain, a Fire to ignite;

Elements gather, all to fight.

Scarlet had placed the last portion on a loop. “We are
Sherwood . . .” Robyn's voice boomed again. And when the song came around, this time her voice was not alone. The crowd joined in. Singing. Shouting. Struggling.

Robyn joined in the song, which rose from a place she had forgotten existed. Mom and Dad used to sing her to sleep at night. The music and rhythm of this song had been inside her all this while.

The people surged forward like a wave. No longer a passive, gathered mob, now they fought and struggled. The MPs were suddenly the ones surrounded. Some were armed, but the weapon they had been relying on most was intimidation. The fierce pressing anger of the crowd surprised and engulfed them.

The MPs had guns, but the people had numbers. And nothing to lose by fighting—if they stayed quiet, capture or death was certain.

Key stood alone in the pickup bed now. The MPs who had been holding him jumped into the fray to help their colleagues.

There was never going to be a better chance. Robyn rolled over the wall and ran full tilt toward the truck where Key was bound.

She understood that he had left her, left their small courageous team to strike out on his own. Yet it never occurred to her not to try to save him. What was the meaning of a team if you could walk away so easily?

Robyn leaped into the bed of the truck and used her pocketknife to cut the ropes that bound his ankles together and pinned his arms to his sides. There was nothing she
could do about his handcuffs, but freeing his legs was enough. They rolled over the side of the truck.

Key yanked down the cloth gag. “Thanks,” he said, but his voice was more angry than grateful. “What are you doing here?”

Robyn felt a surge of anger, too. “Uh, saving you?” She grabbed his arm and they ran from the pickup, ducking for shelter beneath one of the larger canvas trucks.

Key shook his head. “Haven't you figured it out yet?” he said. “Everyone in T.C. would willingly go to jail for you. They were all lined up to do it. Why would you come here?”

“I don't want anyone to go to jail. Certainly not for me,” Robyn said, as they crouched behind the truck tires. Running feet stormed past. She concentrated on planning the next dash. Into the tents, then make for the woods? Or race toward the wall, heading back to Sherwood? Many obstacles stood in either direction.

“We have to get out of here.” Key sighed. “What now?”

“No idea. I came here to fake my surrender, remember?” Robyn admitted. “Saving your butt wasn't part of the plan.” She gave him a pointed look.

“Sometimes you just have to seize an opportunity,” Key answered, only slightly grudgingly.

Robyn grinned. “Is that your way of saying I was right?”

Key didn't smile in return. “It's my way of saying you weren't totally wrong.”

“I'll take it,” Robyn said. She tugged him out from under the truck and they ran toward the next truck. From here it would
be a short jog to the cardboard, and then they could get to the woods beyond. Robyn started out, but Key held her back.

MP legs raced past. Close call.

Robyn's pendants dangled from her chest. She took Dad's crescent moon pendant in one hand, and mom's orb necklace in the other. The two fit together, like puzzle pieces! They formed one smooth round circle, part Shadows, part Light. Like Robyn herself. Pieces of the curtain verse started to make more sense.

“It's chaos,” Key whispered. “We'll never get out of here.”

“No, you won't,” said a deep voice behind them. They spun around, and an MP bore down on them, gun drawn.

The MP grabbed hold of Robyn's arm and tucked his gun away. Key struggled to free Robyn, to no avail. The MP shoved him off, focused on Robyn as the prize.

“Run,” Robyn advised him. “It's me they want.”

Key disappeared into the crowd. The MP yanked her arms and half carried her to the truck where the Sheriff waited. “Here!” He called out. “I have her!”

“Now we've got her.” Mallet smiled with satisfaction. “Let's get out of here.” Over her shoulder she nodded to a senior MP. “Burn it.”

The MP held Robyn's wrists and dragged her up into the pickup bed. She stood and faced the sheriff, looking straight into her eyes.

“At long last,” Mallet said. “The real Robyn.”

 

CHAPTER SEVENTY