Fortune's Fool - Mercedes Lackey [80]
“What about us?” the Goat asked suspiciously. But the Wolf was already laughing.
“Brilliant!” the Wolf chuckled. “How long before I raise the alarm?”
“As long as you think you can get away with and not be punished,” Sasha told him honestly. “At least give us as much of a head start as you can.”
“Oho!” the Goat exclaimed, his ears coming up. “With us raising the alarm, she won’t suspect us! And the hunt will be on! She will loose the Wolf to track and loose me to ride!”
“And you can be rid of her however you choose once you are set on the track.” Sasha nodded. “If I were you, Goat, I would wait until you were a good long distance from here. I don’t think she can summon that mortar to her, so the longer her walk, the more time you will have to make your own escapes.”
The Goat nodded. “Best get on with it, Prince. Your luck may not hold forever.”
That was very good advice indeed, and he set about implementing it. “If you know any ways of helping this work, I suggest you start doing them now,” he said, and began to play.
He narrowed down his concentration to get each note exactly right, to keep track of exactly how many times he had played through the reverse tune. This had to be perfect. He might not get another chance.
He finished the last note.
And the flute shattered in his hands.
There was a muffled sound. He looked up to see Sergei’s long ears clamped over his mouth to keep his laughter from escaping as he danced around for joy. The rope holding him had disintegrated into fibers and he was free.
The Goat was dancing in place, too, and the Wolf was laughing silently, tongue lolling.
“Go!” said the Goat, shaking his horns. “We’ll give you as much of a head start as we dare.”
It might have seemed like a waste of time to gather up his belongings before he flung himself on Sergei’s bare back. But he didn’t dare leave anything for Baba Yaga to use to bring him back, or even worse, somehow get to Katya.
But with his pack on his back, his legs tucked up, because otherwise they would drag on the ground, and bent over Sergei’s neck, they tiptoed past the hut. Despite that both of them were afire to flee, this of all times was the moment to take care.
The hut did not appear to notice as they passed, and remained standing on one of its legs like a slumbering chicken. Then they were out of sight, and they ran like the wind itself, careening down forest paths only Sergei seemed able to see.
“Can’t you fly?” Sasha shouted, for now that they were well away from the hut, Sergei was going for speed and his little hooves were hitting the ground so fast it sounded like continuous rolling thunder.
“She has a host of spirits that serve her, and serve her well,” Sergei shouted back. “I dare not fly, they will be on us in an instant.”
Well, then they would just have to run.
The only trouble was…they suddenly ran out of forest.
Sergei burst through the trees and skidded to a halt, as he realized that they were on the side of a mountain, and were now above the tree line. They had been running so fast, and so hard, that neither Sasha nor Sergei had realized they were gradually climbing the shallow slope of a very large mountain indeed. And before they could turn and run back under the cover of the trees—
It was too late.
The horde of spirits bound to Baba Yaga, who must have been following them above the trees, descended on them.
Sergei gave a little buck and Sasha tumbled to the ground. “Go!” Sergei shouted. “Run! Hide! It’s me they’re after!”
And before the spirits—the ugly tattered ghosts of the evil dead—actually reached them, Sergei shot off into the sky. “Try and catch me, boneless, bloodless rags! Servants of a feeble old witless hag! You couldn’t catch a sneeze, much less me!”
The horde sped off into the sky after Sergei. Only a few hesitated. And while they were hesitating, Sasha bolted.
He had no clear idea where to run to—and a moment later he tripped, fell over, and began a headlong tumble down the steep slope of a ravine he hadn’t even seen before he fell into it.
All he could do was curl