Emma watched as Jo released his flaming arrow in the direction of Solus. Just as he did, the collection of explosive-filled waterskins came loose from the raptor’s back. This motion threw off Solus’ flight, and he pulled up and out of his swoop towards Prince Smalls’ party. Jo’s arrow struck the waterskins, setting off an explosion.

The blast hit Solus, but not with nearly the effect they had been hoping for. Solus’ quick ascent had carried him far enough away that the explosion was not fatal or even crippling. With a scream of rage and pain, Solus turned from his latest intended victims. His evil eyes locked on the band of rabbits atop the stone bridge.

On Jo.

Without a word, Jo lit another of his arrows from the still-burning flame at his feet. Before Emma could question what he was doing, Helmer had seized her and thrown her over his shoulder. Crying out in protest, she could do nothing as the large black rabbit carried her towards the other end of the bridge. Owen and Heyward rushed after them, while Jo let loose his arrow at Solus.

Unable to do anything but look back, Emma watched in horror as Solus evaded the flaming missile. Before Jo could draw another arrow, Solus was upon him. He did not strike Jo down as he had Aubray, but seized him in both his talons. Then, beating his smoking wings, Solus lifted into the air and flew eastwards.

It was only later that Emma learned how she had screamed.

For some days after that, things were a blur for Emma. Both the remnants of Helmer’s party and the prince’s made it through safely. Jo’s skillful shooting and brave but futile attempt to bring down the Preylord had done that much. She vaguely remembered hearing Helmer speak to Prince Smalls of Jo’s stratagem, of the need to hunt Solus.

She remembered the prince saying that they would need rabbits who would be able to be what Jo had tried to be: fowlers. Hunters of the fowl.

Owen, in memory of both Jo and Aubray, volunteered to join the unit Helmer decided to form after they arrived at Halfwind. Heyward did likewise, and they were soon joined by Perkinson, son of the legendary Perkin One-Eye. With Picket, the group had the makings of a truly formidable fighting force. But somehow Emma couldn’t help but feel that Jo should be with them.

Duty soon called upon her, and she made her way to Harbone as she had planned. Emma labored diligently, moved by her dedication to healing and by the memory of her lost friend. Returning to Halfwind, she oversaw Heather’s training as a medic as well. In time, Heyward was dismissed from the Fowlers and replaced by a newcomer, Cole Blackstar of Kingston.

Then came Bleston, Kylen, and the army of Terralain. Lord Ramnor was lost, Halfwind occupied by the strangers, and Bleston seemed poised to usurp the throne. In a moment of cruel deception he acted as though he would repent of this desire and support Prince Smalls. But then came the news of the army marching on Cloud Mountain, of Prince Smalls’ death, and of Emma’s own true identity.

When Bleston tried to take her, to turn her over to Morbin, Lord Rake was killed. Others died in the Battle of Rockback Valley, fighting in her name. Picket bravely took charge of the defense, but Emma knew that they could not defeat the forces arrayed against them. And so she made a bargain with Garten Longtreader.

Emma knew that Lord Rake, Prince Smalls, Jo, and her true father, King Jupiter, would doubtless have opposed the decision. But they were not there-she was. And she could not stand to order countless brave bucks-countless Jos and Aubrays-to their deaths for the sake of her own safety. So she made the deal, and then made her way to the seventh standing stone in the dead of night.

Heather came, as she might have expected. She pleaded with Emma not to do it, but Emma had made up her mind. As the raptor descended, Heather leaped from the sixth standing stone to the seventh and rushed at Emma. But Emma remembered the last time she had been taken to safety while another rabbit had been seized by a bird.

So she dodged Heather at the last second, leaving her friend to surge past her. Heather stumbled, managing to catch herself on the edge of the standing stone. But she could not lift herself in time to charge Emma again. And so, just as Jo had been nearly a year before, Emma was taken by a raptor.

Morbin gloated over her capture, over having her within his grasp. Emma braced herself, expecting that she would suffer a swift death like her father before her. But if nearly two decades of resistance had not taught Morbin any lessons, it had instructed Garten Longtreader. The gray rabbit thus eloquently argued that she should be kept as a prisoner and used against her friends, rather than giving them another martyr.

And so Emma found herself being led to a cell in the depths beneath Morbin’s throne room. Garten himself unlocked and opened the door, smiling and bowing mockingly to her as he did so. “Your chambers, Princess Emma. It may interest you to know that this is where your father would have stayed for a time, had he not failed to see reason as you have.”

With a brief glance at the dank interior, Emma sniffed. “Truly, I feel honored. I can only pray that one day you may know the privilege of enjoying such accommodations yourself. Your treachery surely deserves nothing better.”

Garten gave her a hard-edged smile. “Bold words are all you have left, princess. I have long since ceased to be bothered by such things. Perhaps your cellmate will find them amusing.”

“Cellmate?”

Pushing Emma through the cell door, Garten locked it behind her. “Oh yes, a long-term guest in fact. A common rabbit, sadly; hardly worthy to keep company with you. But then, you’re used to mingling with low borns, aren’t you?”

Knowing full well that Garten himself was no noble, Emma wanted to make a sharp retort. However, she contained herself and made her slow way deeper into the cell. Soon enough, she heard labored breathing, and spotted a rabbit form stretched out in one dim corner of the room. The figure was lean, too lean, and clad in rags that did not conceal many signs of suffering. Many scars and wounds were visible, and their left arm, she saw with horror, ended in a stump where their hand should have been.

Emma knelt by the rabbit, close enough now to see that it was a buck. She froze as she realized that his tunic, though filthy and torn, still bore the recognizable emblem of Halfwind Citadel. And through a gap at the left shoulder, she could see signs of an injury attended to by surgery. Emma recognized the scar left behind by a line of stitching.

She had made it, after all.

“...Jo?”

To be continued…