Heckler’s face turned red. He looked around nervously as he tucked the twig out of sight. “Don’t tell the Lady, but that beautiful little stick is worth more than my pension. Every man’s got to look after himself, hey?” He winked at Petronio.

“Indeed!” said Petronio with sudden inspiration. Look after himself: That was exactly what he was about to do. “Something’s going wrong with the inoculation reserves.” He had to get Heckler’s attention. If those reserves ran out, every Mawish soldier was a dead man walking.

“Here!” said Heckler, ducking his head through the hatch as he clambered in. “Let me check it out.”

Petronio stepped out of the way to let the man inspect the glass-fronted freezer. He quietly lifted a shiny backup hard disk from a shelf.

Heckler bent over. “It seems all right to me!”

“And it will be all right!” said Petronio, slamming the sharp-edged hard disk onto Hecker’s head.

The man groaned once, then slumped onto the floor.

“Sorry!” said Petronio. “No hard feelings.” They were on the same side after all, even though the guy had once shot him. The choice of Heckler was opportune. The man liked his Buds. How strange that Maw named a drink after part of a tree! And he had a beer belly to match Petronio’s. The black one-piece zoot suit wouldn’t be a perfect fit, but he hoped no one would notice. After stripping the unconscious body, he gagged the mouth and tied the soldier up.

Five minutes later, what appeared to be one of Fenestra’s men quietly locked the chamber behind him and adjusted the infrared goggles on his face.

“We land in two minutes. Get strapped in, you fool!” snarled a voice behind him.

Petronio nearly jumped out of his disguise. But all that Fenestra saw was a combat-ready minion, ready to do her bidding. And that, after all, was his only intention. Adrenaline coursed like sap through his veins. At last, all his training had a purpose.

Ark ran toward the falling body, knowing it was too late. There was a dreadful irony, the master forger dying by the metal arrowhead he had dug from the deep roots. What power could bring the dead to life? Corwenna had shared dark secrets, but none for this tragedy.

Where was Flo? His eyes scanned the battlements as he ran, desperate for a sign. Loud sobs suddenly cascaded across the court as Flo threw her long arms over the battlements, trying to reach out for a life that was gone.

“Get down!” Ark shouted. “They’ll kill you, too!” As Ark spoke, another phalanx of arrows slipped through the air. Ark had no strength left to stop them.

Despite her grief, Flo ducked down at the last second, the arrows sparking against solid stone. The remaining Rootshooters had learned a fatal lesson. Adding to the body count would achieve nothing.