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  Reisil thrust the thought away. She was not going to start pitying herself. She drew a deep breath, turning her face up to the afternoon sun and pushing back her hat. The cloudless sky arced like a brilliant ocean above. The morning had dawned cold and frosty, but the autumn day had warmed nicely. The air was redolent with the smell of evergreens and aspen, meadowgrass and damp earth.

  Sodur’s explanation made sense, but the relentless snubbing from the other ahalad-kaaslane was a wound that never stopped bleeding. Between her own failures and their constant suspicion, she had begun to feel as welcome in Kodu Riik as a Patversemese wizard. Except a wizard would be able to do something with his magic. But this trip was to change all that, she reminded herself. And outside of Koduteel, with Sodur’s unfailing, stalwart support, surely she’d find a way to tap into her power and heal the plague.

  She pulled her hat back on and straightened her spine. Whether the other ahalad-kaaslane trusted her or not, she still had her duty to do, and whining wasn’t going to help.

  “Has anyone heard from any of them?” she asked as she pulled the cork on her water bag and drank the sun-warmed water. “Reikon? Fehra? Bethorn?”

  Sodur frowned, nudging his liver chestnut with his heels as the gelding dropped his head to snatch a mouthful of grass. A flurry of gnats swirled up around his head, and the beast shook his head vigorously, rubbing his head against his forelegs.

  “Not for a while now. Not since late spring. But most ahalad-kaaslane don’t send word except in an emergency.”

  “How long do ahalad-kaaslane usually ride circuit?” Reisil startled herself with the question. It seemed she ought to know after more than a year in Koduteel. But then, how would she have found out? Except for Sodur, none of the ahalad-kaaslane would even speak to her, and Sodur spent most of his time in the palace these days, trying to keep the nobles from revolting against the failing power of the ahalad-kaaslane.

  “There’s no set length of time. No set place to go. Each ahalad-kaaslane comes and goes as he is called and travels wherever the Lady guides him.”

  “Juhrnus wasn’t called.”

  “No. But then it is customary for new ahalad-kaaslane to spend time learning about Kodu Riik by traveling its length and breadth. I suggested Juhrnus make such a journey, listening to what calls guided him as he went.”

  But there wouldn’t be any calls. Not since the Lady had withdrawn from Kodu Riik. Reisil didn’t say it. “How do you know what to do then? What the Lady wants you to do?”

  “For me, being at the palace is the best way I know how to serve Kodu Riik. Without the Iisand on the throne, the Verit Aare jostles for the regency. It would devastate the land. He’s hungry for war, and he hates the power of the ahalad-kaaslane more than the other nobles do. He’s already developed a substantial network of supporters. If he became regent, the Arkeinik would soon bend to his will—and then we’d be in much worse trouble than we are in now. If the Lady was to speak to me, I believe this is the path She’d choose for me.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  Sodur grimaced. “Who is sure? But what does it matter? We know we must protect Kodu Riik. Even without the Lady to guide us, we must answer our oath to Her. Certainly we cannot sit on our hands, doing nothing. Your path is to find a way to use your power, and mine is to give you the time to do so while keeping the court from tearing itself apart.”

  Reisil nodded, thinking of her experiences with the court nobles. Most didn’t like her any better than the ahalad-kaaslane did, only they didn’t mind telling her so. Or they cultivated her for what they thought she could do. On those rare occasions she’d accompanied Sodur to the palace, she couldn’t escape a feeling that she was prey and that lions and wolves stalked in the shadows. Sodur had shouldered a staggering task. She slanted a look at him. He looked much as he had when she first met him: clothing patched and threadbare, now covered with the dust and dirt of nearly two weeks’ travel. His shoulders were slouched, his thin figure unprepossessing. He felt her eyes on him and glanced up, a smile illuminating his haggard features, his eyes twinkling.

  “Not the most impressive-looking diplomat, am I?”

  Reisil grinned back, shaking her head. “But I’ve seen you. You know how to manage people. And you don’t make them angry when you do it.”

  “That’s because they don’t realize what I’m doing. That’s the key, Reisil,” he said, sobering. “They are a prickly bunch. They’re born to lead, and they know it. They don’t take interference well, even well-intentioned efforts. Some would rather burn in the Demonlord’s third circle. Better to herd them slowly in the direction you want and teach them to see reason—but never let them know what you’re up to.”

  Reisil fell silent, thinking. Then she asked, “You didn’t say—have you heard from Juhrnus?”

  “No.”

  “You’re not worried anything’s happened to him? To any of them?”

  Sodur turned his head to look for Lume, his ahalad-kaaslane . The silver lynx wound through the shady grasses along the tree line, leaping after grasshoppers and tree lizards.

  “Of course I am,” he said at last. “Things have changed in Kodu Riik. People do not welcome the ahalad-kaaslane as they used to. They still haven’t recovered from the war, and the drought hasn’t helped. Bandits and thieves prowl the land. Nokulas are everywhere, slaughtering entire villages. And then there’s the plague.” He drew a breath. “As I said, no news is probably good news, but yes, I worry.”

  There didn’t seem to be an answer to that, and so Reisil settled back in her saddle, thinking about the two weeks since they’d departed Koduteel. The people they’d encountered thus far had welcomed them, offering food from their meager stores. They did not seem to blame the ahalad-kaaslane . Not yet. But that didn’t mean everyone felt the same. Reisil closed her eyes, sending a prayer to the absent Lady to protect her friends.

  She tipped her head back, making an effort to push aside her worries and enjoy the breeze on her face and the smell of the summer grasses. Saljane had disappeared several hours before, and now Reisil could feel the goshawk’s happy satiation.

  ~Fat girl. Are you going to eat all the squirrels in the forest?

  ~Marmots. Two, came Saljane’s smug reply.

  ~Two? How are you going to fly?

  Before Saljane could answer, a sudden prickling ran up Reisil’s arms. The hair on her neck stood on end. She jerked around, eyes darting to the trees swathing the hills to the left and the right. Behind and before, the long grassy channel they’d been following snaked away between the rising foothills, the tall, heavy seedheads waving in the breeze. She could see nothing. Dread closed a hard fist around her throat.

  “What’s that?” she whispered. The birds and insects had ceased their chatter. The only sounds were the creak of the saddles, the thud of the horses’ hooves, and the rustle of the wind. Sweat slicked Reisil’s palms and she tightened her hands on her reins. Indigo pranced and tossed his head, snorting. “Do you feel it?”

  “There’s something . . . ,” came Sodur’s hushed answer as he slid his sword free. Reisil grimaced. Would that she had any ability to fight, but there’d been no one to teach her in Koduteel. Sodur was the first to admit his own paltry skills. Which left them nearly defenseless now. Stupid, stupid arrogance . . . Her hand fell to the hilt of her dagger. It was sharp enough, but in her hand would do little damage against—what?

  A fierce yowl sounded from the trees. Lume bounded through the grasses, tufted ears pricked, teeth bared. At the same moment, Sodur’s horse squalled, eyes rimmed white. He spun around, crushing Reisil’s leg between the two horses. Fire spiked up to her hip as Indigo staggered, his bray echoing through the trees. Reisil lurched against the pommel of her saddle. Pain bit into her stomach, the air gusting from her lungs.

  “Run! By the Lady, Reisil, run!”

  Sodur’s hand cracked down on Indigo’s rump. The terrified horse leaped, and Reisil clutched her reins, her left leg dangling loose fro
m its stirrup. Indigo flattened into a thundering gallop. Reisil clutched his mane for balance, wobbling in the saddle. Sodur shouted behind and she twisted to look. Like her, he hunched flat over his gelding’s neck, the horse stretched long in panicked flight. Behind them Reisil could see nothing.

  They raced up the fold in the hills, slowed by the high, thick grasses. Foam lathered on Indigo’s neck, and his ribs bellowed with effort. By the time they crested the hill, Sodur’s long-legged chestnut had pulled even. Blood ran from a long slash in the animal’s neck and freckled Sodur’s pale face.

  They plunged down the swell, leaping a trickling creek at the bottom. A narrow game track opened on the other side, and Indigo slotted himself into it, racing up the slope. Sodur fell in behind.

  Fury. Fear. Purpose.

  Kek-kek-kek-kek!

  ~Saljane!

  The goshawk dropped from the sky, skimming past the galloping duo with another shriek. Reisil twisted around, but could see nothing except Sodur’s bloodstained face.

  “Go!” he yelled, waving, his sword still clutched in his hand. Reisil faced back around, patting Indigo’s sweat-slicked shoulder. Neither horse could keep up this pace much longer. The gelding’s breath came in rasping gasps, and his gait was becoming more choppy as exhaustion shortened his stride. Sodur’s taller chestnut thumped against Indigo’s haunches, and the smaller horse bounded forward only to slow again.

  But their pursuers had not given up. Reisil could feel them closing in. Her skin prickled warning, and her blood went cold with sudden certainty.

  Nokulas.

  ~Saljane! What do you see?

  Reisil’s head whirled as she found herself looking out through Saljane’s eyes. They were close above the grass, flying behind the fleeing horses, the ground a sweeping blur. Glinting shapes fanned out behind the horses, their bodies alternately silvered and transparent like moonlit water. Saljane winged upward, circling and returning to dive at the foremost of the beasts. It reared up, eerily silent, swiping at the goshawk with ruthless talons longer than Reisil’s fingers. Its nose was blunt and full of needle-like teeth, its eyes an uncanny opaque silver.

  Even as Saljane twisted away, Reisil snarled, yanking on Indigo’s reins. The gelding swerved and stumbled. Sodur’s chestnut veered away into the tall grass. Too late, Reisil realized her mistake. The nokulas swarmed through the grasses, surrounding each rider in a ring of gnashing teeth and knife-edged claws.

  It was hard to know how many there were. Their shapes flickered and shifted like shadows on water. Reisil caught a glimpse of a head, a paw, a haunch. There a curve of shining starlight, here a distortion in the grass. They sniffed and circled, silent as hunting cats. Reisil’s stomach churned, her breath thick in her throat. Beneath her, Indigo tensed. She held him still. Any movement would invite an attack.

  As the beasts circled, she began to pick out details. They were graceful, muscular things, all teeth and armor, with sharp spines spiking down their necks and backs. Long, snaking tails whipped from side to side. None looked alike, except for their coloring, if the patchwork translucence could be called coloring. They prodded in closer and seemed to gloat at Indigo’s stricken moan.

  High above, Reisil felt Saljane’s fear and anger as the goshawk circled.

  ~No. Wait, she said as she felt Saljane preparing to dive in for another attack. It’s too soon to move.

  Reisil glanced over at Sodur. He held his sword out to the side, still as marble. His mount pawed at the ground, sawing his head against Sodur’s taut hold. No! Reisil cried silently. Stay still!

  Suddenly the horse gave a braying neigh and reared. He spun to the side and bolted through the ring of nokulas. The beasts whirled and dashed after, flowing through the grass like floodwaters down a steep mountainside. They romped after the desperate pair, teasing them, driving them. The nokulas herded the frothing horse first one way, then another, then round in a circle. Reisil was left to watch or run.

  Frantic, she reached for her power, praying it would answer. Nothing happened. She tried again, demanding, pleading. Still nothing. Like calling for help in an empty room. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she sat helpless.

  Sodur’s gelding slowed and staggered to a halt, head dangling, his breath coming in great, echoing pants. Sodur whirled his sword about himself, driving the nokulas back. But as one dodged aside on the left, three more rose snapping and snarling on the right. The chestnut sagged to the ground. Sodur lunged clear, sweeping around himself with his blade until one of the nokulas snatched it scornfully and flung it aside.

  Reisil’s nails dug gouges in her palms. Sodur backed away, falling back to lie prostrate over his collapsed horse. A nokula pounced up on top of him. Horror swept Reisil, and her mouth dropped open in a silent cry. Gone was the shimmering watery transparency. The creature crouching over Sodur was molten silver. It had a long, narrow head. Tusks protruded from its mouth and curved like scythes along its jaw. Spiked horns sprouted from behind a bony knob on the top of its head. There was a rough texture to its hide, with odd lumps and bumps running down the length of its body, ending in a stubby tail. Ridges rose like serrated mountain peaks down its spine.

  It crouched over the fallen man, a snakelike tongue slithering out to taste its victim. Sodur lay still, eyes wide, his neck soft and pale and white. The nokula’s lips pulled back in a sinister smile. The beast drew back its powerful foreleg, claws shining in the afternoon sun, and tongue sliding over its muzzle as if revelling in Sodur’s moan of terror.

  For a long moment it did not move. Reisil’s legs clamped tight around Indigo, and he stuttered forward a few steps then stopped, digging in stubbornly. The other nokulas closed in until Reisil could see nothing of the fallen horse and only glimpses of Sodur’s clothing. She dashed at the tears on her cheeks and kicked at Indigo. The gelding refused to move.

  A shape flickered past her. Lume. The lynx burrowed through the grass, a low growl sounding in his throat. Reisil jumped to the ground to follow, ignoring the pain raveling up her leg. She yanked her dagger free and dropped down to scurry after, watching the scene through Saljane’s eyes.

  The nokula on top of Sodur remained motionless as ice, muscular foreleg levered back. It would take only one swipe to tear out the terrified man’s throat. Seconds ticked past. Still the blow did not come. Reisil edged closer, hunching down as Lume fell silent. Saljane swooped lower. Not far ahead in the grass, Reisil could hear the sound of the nokula pack sliding through the grass, and the shuddering breaths of the chestnut gelding.

  Suddenly the beast on top of Sodur moved. Reisil bit her lips to stop her scream as its foreleg dropped. But it didn’t strike. Instead it pinched Sodur’s face in its claws, bending forward, snout a bare inch from Sodur’s crooked nose. Saljane shrieked and dropped until she was barely ten feet above the tableau. Reisil clenched her fist around the dagger and squirmed forward.

  Then inexplicably the nokula leaped from Sodur, landing silently amongst its companions, leading them away through the grass. Straight toward Reisil. She stiffened, crouching ready, but they parted around her. In moments they were gone.

  Reisil stared after them, her mouth agape. She lurched to her feet, legs shaking. Sodur had slid to the ground, one arm looped tightly around Lume, who nuzzled at him furiously. Sodur turned his head and began to retch. Reisil dropped to her knees beside him, instinctively lifting her fist to catch Saljane.

  “Are you all right?”

  Sodur nodded, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Beneath the spatter of his horse’s blood, his face was white. There were four bleeding holes on his jaws where the nokula had held him.

  “Horse is worse off than I am. Got to get him up or he’ll founder for certain. Hate to have to walk the rest of the way.”

  Reisil paused a bare moment and then stood, allowing him his privacy. She heard him retching again as she coaxed the exhausted animal to stand. She loosened the saddle and dropped it to the ground and then led the animal in looping circles. Slowly the b
ig chestnut’s breathing steadied, the sweat dried and the trembling stopped. He walked with his head down, his hooves dragging and catching in the grass. The slash on his neck continued to seep, but Reisil was pleased to see the wound was shallow.

  By the time the horse was cool and out of danger, Sodur had regained his composure. He’d washed his face and hands in a little rill and recovered his sword.

  “We’ll camp up in the trees,” he said.

  “What if they come back?”

  He looked off into the distance, expression remote. “They had their chance.” He sounded quite certain, and Reisil wasn’t sure how much farther they could manage anyway.

  They built a roaring fire and picketed the horses close by. Reisil cleaned the chestnut’s neck and applied a salve, not bothering to use her magic for a healing. She turned, feeling Sodur watching her. She felt herself flush hotly and averted her face.

  Saljane brought back a fat grouse and retreated to a low branch to preen herself. Reisil plucked the bird and set it over the coals in a pot with water and rice. Afterwards she gathered more wood, piling it in a small mountain near the fire.

  When there was nothing left to do, she sat down opposite to Sodur, who hunkered back against a tree, whittling at a piece of pale birch, Lume flopped over his outstretched legs. The sun had slid down behind the mountains, and the moon rose like a sickle blade, reminding Reisil of the nokulas , of their eyes, the sly, cruel knowingness behind them.

  The silence stretched thin, Reisil looking alternately at the fire, at the horses, at Sodur.

  “I thought they were going to kill you,” she said finally, twisting a stick between her fingers. Even saying it made her skin turn cold. Sodur had mentored her since they’d left Kallas. But he was more than that. He was her friend, as well. Aside from Juhrnus, he was the only one she had left. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she swiped at them in annoyance.