“Well enough, considering,” said Loren, giving Gem’s back a final pound.

  “Leave off,” said the boy, waving a limp arm in her direction. “I am fine.”

  Loren smiled down at him. But the smile died on her lips as a horn cut the air.

  She had not had time to take in their surroundings, but now she looked up. They were at the foot of the stronghold, with its peaked prow jutting out into the air straight overhead. A few hundred paces away was the bottom of the long, winding ramp that led up to the main entrance. And down that ramp figures were running and shouting, their weapons drawn.

  “They have spotted us,” said Loren. She fought for her feet and snatched up her cloak. “Come. We must flee if we are to survive.”

  Quickly she removed her boots from around her waist and pulled them on. Niya struggled to don her own boots, her movements slow and sluggish.

  “I would wager that now you wish we had killed the guards in the valley as we approached.”

  “I do not, but thank you,” said Loren, frowning. “Now is not the time for gloating, but for running.”

  Run they did, following the stream. Soon the guards were behind them, giving chase along the opposite side of the river. But Loren and her friends were waterlogged and exhausted from the swim, so that they could not gain much ground, and soon their lungs burned anew.

  “We are not gaining any ground,” said Chet. “They will follow us straight back to Uzo and Annis.”

  “And—” Loren almost stopped in her tracks, and only resumed her flight when Chet snatched her arm and pulled her along. “Shiun. Where is Shiun?”

  “She will look after herself,” said Niya. “Likely she fled the fortress as soon as the alarm was raised, for who could think that we would escape?”

  It was not a comforting thought that Shiun would leave them to their fate, but certainly they could not go back to see. If they somehow evaded the guards, they would return later. But she did not see how that would happen.

  And then they ran over a hillock, and an arrow struck Loren in the chest.

  She stumbled in her run and barely kept herself from falling on her face, sinking to her knees instead.

  Dazed, she stared at the feathered shaft that protruded from her torso, on the left side and just under the collarbone. Her gaze drifted upwards.

  Three guards stood there. Mayhap they were the ones Shiun had shown to Loren on the valley floor, two days ago when they had discovered Yewamba. Mayhap they were another three. But one of them had a bow, and she had loosed the shaft that now pierced Loren’s body.

  Was that the arrowhead she could feel, protruding from her back?

  She tried to lift her left arm to see, but it did not move. She lifted her right arm instead, reaching behind her back. But a pain shot through her, and she dropped her hand.

  Someone was screaming. Who was screaming? She looked up. Chet, Chet who held her shoulders, who was trying to place his body between her and the archer.

  Why do that? she thought. I have been shot already. It struck her then that that was a foolish thought, and her mind was wandering.

  Someone else was there. Shiun, her dark eyes wide and anxious as she beheld Loren’s wound. And looking over Chet’s shoulder, Loren could see two of the Yerrin guards had now been shot as well, and lay still on the ground. Shiun must have done it. The third guard lay on his back, hands raised feebly as Niya plunged her dagger into his chest, over, and over, and over.

  Loren fell backwards and knew nothing more.

  BLINDING PAIN WAS HER ONLY companion when she awoke, but that was better than the memory of a nightmare.

  Loren tried to sit up. She failed, gasped, and lay still. Her chest was wrapped with bandages that covered a great pad of cloth. She tried to probe at it with her left hand, but as soon as her arm moved the pain redoubled. Hissing through her teeth, she waited for it to subside before using her right hand instead, though that limb was weak and shaking.

  Touching the pad of cloth was not too bad, but when she tried to lift it, dried blood peeled from her skin. She winced and left it alone, and then looked around.

  Where were the others? She knew she was in her tent, but Chet was not with her, and she heard no movement outside.

  “Is anyone there?” she croaked.

  She heard movement on the grass, and then the tent flap flew open. Chet eagerly poked his head in, eyes shining as he beheld her. “You are awake,” he said, his voice shaking.

  “I am, and I am thirsty.”

  “Of course,” he said. “One moment.”

  He vanished, only to return shortly with her waterskin. She could not sit up without his help, but once she did she drank deep, ignoring the way it burned in her throat. When she was done she patted his arm, and he moved the skin away.

  “How long?” she said.

  “It is the evening of the day after our mission.”

  Loren’s eyes shot wide, and she tried to look out through the tent flap. “They have not found us?”

  “We moved the camp,” said Chet. “Shiun found this place, and we were on constant watch in case they drew near it. But then, sometime during the night, they simply gave up.”

  “Why?” said Loren. “Why would they?” She frowned, looking into her lap. Then a guess came to her, and she surged forwards, trying to leave the tent. But with a grimace and a cry she fell back, and Chet only just caught her in time.

  “Sky above, Loren, give yourself a moment at least. You took an arrow. That is no scratch.”

  Once more she looked at the bandages on her chest. “Who did this?” Niya, she guessed in her mind.

  “Uzo,” said Chet. “He has some little skill as a healer, it seems, though he told us often that he is no master at it. He did say the wound could have been much worse. The arrow struck only flesh, nothing vital.”

  “Nowhere near as bad as your wound upon the Seat, then?” said Loren.

  Though he tried to restrain it, a guffaw burst out. “Darkness take you, Loren. We are not in contest to see who can suffer the greater injury.”

  Loren smiled at him and put her hand on his cheek. “Did everyone get out safely?”

  “They did,” he said. But then his face darkened, and his voice grew quiet. “All but Weath, of course.”

  “I am sorry,” said Loren. Then she shook her head. Darkness take me, my thoughts are wandering. “But we have little time. I know why the Yerrins stopped searching for us. They mean to leave—”

  “They mean to leave Yewamba,” said Chet. “Annis guessed the same thing. She said it was a good thing Damaris did not know she was close by, or else she would never have left the stronghold. But now the family Yerrin feels too exposed, for their location is known, and mayhap word has already reached them that Kal marches west towards them. Whatever the reason, they are preparing to leave.”

  “Then this is our last chance to stop Damaris,” said Loren. “We must—”

  “She will ride out ahead of the rest,” said Chet. “Annis guessed that, too. She thinks she knows the route Damaris will take, unless there is some road west of the mountains she can escape to. But Uzo and Shiun have gone to guard the main road, and if Damaris passes that way, they will see her. If they believe they can take her guards, they will. If not, they will mark her passing so that we may follow in due time.”

  Loren stared at him in wonder. “Annis did all this?”

  “Annis and Niya,” said Chet, smiling. “Niya commanded Uzo and Shiun to go. They should return in a few days. But all of the plans came from Annis.”

  “That girl has more wit than even I realized,” said Loren, shaking her head. But then something he had said caught her attention, and she frowned at him. “You said Niya told Uzo and Shiun to go. She did not accompany them?”

  “She is here,” said Chet. “She took wounds herself, you will remember.”

  “I do,” said Loren. “Only I wish Uzo and Shiun were not alone.”

  “They will not endanger themselves,” said Chet. He sat back, leaning on his hands. “I for one am just glad we escaped in time, and that you are still alive.”

  “I am, too,” said Loren, smiling at him. Despite the pain from her wound, she felt as though a great weight had left her shoulders. “Indeed, my mind is easier than it has been in some time.”

  “Even though we lost Damaris?” said Chet, his brows rising.

  She thought of her dream, and then of Hewal’s corpse. “Even then,” she said softly.

  He shook his head. “Well, then my mind is eased as well. Only now I should go.”

  “Go?” said Loren. “Where?”

  “To hunt,” he said. “Our supplies run low, and Niya fears to visit that little town nearby, in case the Yerrins have placed agents there to watch for us. But I will send Annis in to sit with you, and help you if you should need anything.”

  Loren nodded. He kissed her forehead and left.

  A while later she heard footsteps again and smiled as the tent flap opened. But it was not Annis. It was Niya. Her regular clothes were gone, replaced with dark brown trousers and a cream-colored tunic, the same as Loren’s. It was the nondescript outfit most of them had worn on the journey to avoid attracting attention.

  “Hello,” said Loren softly.

  “You look well enough,” said Niya.

  “I suppose I am,” said Loren. “At least I am not dead.”

  “Though not for lack of trying.”

  Loren smiled. “How is your shoulder?”

  Niya glanced at her own bandages. She wore fewer than Loren did. “It pains me less and less. I have been going for walks. They make it easier.”

  “I may do the same,” said Loren.

  It seemed as though Niya meant to say something else, or mayhap even to come inside the tent to continue speaking. But there came the snap of a twig, and she looked off to the side. She frowned at Loren. “You have another visitor. When you decide you are strong enough for walking, tell me. I shall bring you along.”

  She vanished from sight, only to be replaced by Annis. The girl crawled into the tent with her and took Loren’s hand with a happy smile.

  “It is good to see you awake.”

  “And it is good to see you at all,” said Loren. “I heard that you have become quite the master strategist while I have been resting.”

  Annis’ cheeks darkened. “I suppose I have been industrious in my planning.”

  “Thank you for seeing to things after I was injured,” said Loren. “When I woke, I feared that we had lost everything. I should have known better.”

  “Stop it,” said Annis, shaking her head. “You make it sound as though I have performed great deeds. I have only looked at maps and read a few signs.”

  “Kingdoms have been conquered, or more importantly, saved, by ones who sit and stare at maps,” said Loren. “Our party would neither have come so far, nor come so close to achieving our aims were it not for you. I am glad you and Gem are with me.”

  At the boy’s name, Annis’ smile dampened considerably, though she tried to maintain it. But Loren saw, and frowned.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” said Annis. “Nothing you should trouble yourself over at any rate. You should be resting.”

  Loren raised her hands—the left one moved far more slowly than the right. “I am resting, and I cannot do anything else. Speak on. Did Gem do something wrong?”

  Annis shook her head quickly. “No, not at all. Only … do you remember the night before you went to Yewamba, when I decided to tell him how I felt?”

  “How can I forget?” said Loren, smirking. “I have rarely seen you with your blood up to that extent.”

  “Well, I did it,” said Annis miserably. “And in return, he told me … that he felt affection for another.”

  Loren cocked her head, wondering at the girl’s despair. “Another? Who …?” Then a horrid thought struck her. “Oh, sky above. Do not say he means me.”

  Annis snorted—which Loren did not think was very complimentary—and shook her head. “No. It is Uzo.”

  Loren only stared for a moment. Then the meaning of it assembled in her mind. She closed her eyes and heaved a deep sigh. “I see. That … I am sorry, Annis.”

  “Why should you be?” said Annis, shrugging. “It is not your fault, nor his. And is that not the most irritating thing? If he did pine after you, I could box his ears for being a fool, when I have shown him plainly how I felt. But now …”

  “Yes,” said Loren, thinking of Xain, and then of Jordel. “I learned the same thing myself, just before we left the Seat. Sometimes the deepest cut comes from the one who did not intend it, and who had no other choice in the first place.”

  SHE RESTED THAT DAY, AND went to sleep shortly after the sun went down. When she woke the next morning, her chest hardly hurt at all, at least not with any sharp pain. There was a gentle soreness that penetrated deep into her chest, and it swelled when she tried to move her arms. But Chet changed her bandages, which Uzo had shown him how to do, and she got a good look at her wound for the first time. It was much smaller than she had thought it would be, only a little larger than her fingernail, and the blood was already solid.

  “The guards of Yerrin use narrow arrowheads,” said Chet. “It lets them pierce chain, and sometimes plate, but it lessens the wound, and thank the sky for that.”

  With his help, she got dressed and left the tent. Outside, she found she could walk quite easily. She did not hurt anywhere but the shoulder, and as long as she did not move that too quickly, it was almost as though there was no injury at all.

  “That is good,” said Chet. “Uzo told us that the injury was not very serious, and that it was only the shock of it that made you fall senseless. Even so, you seem to be healing remarkably quickly.”

  It was true. She wondered about it, and then recalled what Xain had told her in the Academy’s bell tower about the mystical properties of magestones. Was this another of them? In any case, she was glad of it.

  As she sighed and stretched in the early morning light, Niya came out of her own tent. She smiled to see Loren up and about. “Good morn, Nightblade. How is your wound?”

  “Better than yesterday,” said Loren. “And I suppose that is all that can be expected.”

  “That is good to hear,” said Niya. “Are you ready to try a walk? I found a path in the jungle yesterday that leads to a beautiful clearing. I think you would enjoy it.”

  Loren glanced at Chet, but he smiled and patted her hand. “I should go out hunting again,” he said. “Go. It will be good for you.”

  “I will not be gone long,” said Loren. Then she followed Niya, who struck out at once, heading south between the trees.

  Soon Loren saw the trail that the Mystic had spoken of. It was an easy enough walk, and went up and down a series of hills that ran along the base of the mountains. Once or twice it crossed the stream, the same one that ran out of the mountain and came flowing all the way south. Loren remembered their escape from that place with a slight shiver.

  Niya saw it and looked her over. “Is something wrong? Does it hurt?”

  “No,” said Loren. “I only remembered the cavern under Yewamba.”

  Niya nodded, and then fixed Loren with a crafty look. “And I remember you guiding us through it without pause. How did you see down there, anyway? Do not tell me you have good eyes—the place was pitch black.”

  Loren shrugged. She had not revealed her dagger to any of the Mystics, for she could not know who among them was trustworthy with its great secret. Even now she could feel it pressing against her ankle in her boot. “I cannot explain what I do not understand. I could see, and I do not know why you could not.”

  “Hm,” said Niya, frowning at her. “Very well. Keep your secrets, Nightblade. But come along. We are near the place I wanted to show you.”

  The ground rose up now, up to the top of a ridge that was like a first step leading up a grand staircase, all the way to the mountains high above. There on the top of the ridge was the clearing. When they reached it, Niya waved her arm expansively out towards the lands below, as though presenting a fine feast.

  It took Loren’s breath away. They were not so very high, but the land before them fell down and down, so that she could see for what seemed like endless leagues. Jungle stretched without breaking, except to the southeast where she could see the village of Sarafu, smoke rising from its chimneys. But the rest was a verdant rug that went on forever, and the sun a golden coin glinting in a sky like the ocean.

  “It is wonderful, Niya,” said Loren. “I am glad you brought me here.”

  “Come, sit with me,” said Niya. “Do you need help?”

  Loren dropped and crossed her legs upon the ground. “No, thank you. It is as I said—the wound hardly troubles me if I do not jostle it.”

  “That is good,” said Niya. She flashed a smile. “I will try not to jostle it, then.”

  Loren returned the smile, but she did not feel the same thrill course through her that she had during all the long journey across Feldemar. The memory of Niya’s battle-rage, of the way she had cut down those people inside Yewamba, would not quit her mind. “You will not have an opportunity to.”

  “Oh, come now,” said Niya. “At least be coy when you rebuff me. After what we went through in Yewamba together, I deserve at least that much.”

  “It is Yewamba that is the problem,” said Loren. “You went half-mad in there. You did not only attack guards, but unarmed merchants. It was as though no amount of blood could sate you.”

  Niya frowned. “We needed to escape, and we were bringing a prisoner with us. Any pursuer could have overtaken us easily. They were a threat, and I removed them.”

  “I … I understand that,” said Loren. And inside she thought, Do I honestly? Am I that different from the girl who left the Birchwood so long ago? But the answer was the feeling of unease in her heart. “Yet I saw you, Niya. You enjoyed it.”

  The Mystic’s nostrils flared, and she looked away. “Mayhap I did, but not in the way you think. I have always been angry. You must have seen that yourself. Long ago I learned to control that when I fought, to harness it into a sort of madness. It makes me strong. In the moment I may be a killer.” She put a hand on Loren’s knee. “But that does not mean I am always a killer. I can be gentle as well.”

 

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