“Harmon, no offense, but you’ll only get in the way.”
She continued to struggle with the shoe. “You might need me.”
Venick crossed stares with Ellina. He was looking for her opinion, but the notion of Harmon joining their mission was so obviously inadvisable that Ellina frowned hard enough for the both of them. Venick turned his chin.Just asking.She scrunched her nose.You already know what I think.
“No,” Harmon interrupted. “None of that silent talking between you two. I can guess what you’re thinking, but listen. In the highlands, we alwayssend a healer into the field with the soldiers.”
“That’s a dangerous use of resources.”
“That’s smart planning.”
“I won’t argue with you about this.”
“Let me come, and there will be no arguing.”
“Harmon, it’s like you said earlier. You’re not just a healer now. You’re a leader of our resistance. If something happened to you—”
“If something happened toyou—”
“It’s not the same. I was raised to fight. I’m a warrior first.”
“What do you think I was doing in the lowlands, that day you found me? Taking a holiday? How do you think I wound up your captive? I was a healer for our contingent. I might not be a warrior, but I’m no stranger to battle, andyou might need me.”
Venick started to argue further. Glanced at the sky. “We’re wasting time.” A heavy sigh. “I can see that your mind is made.”
Harmon was smug.
“But you’ll need to find yourself some scout’s armor,” Venick said. “You can’t wear metal.”
“What?” Harmon looked down at herself. “What’s wrong with metal armor?”
“We’re not riding into battle. This is an ambush. They’ll hear you rattling in that from a league away.”
“Oh.” Harmon had the decency to look embarrassed. “Right, well, don’t act like that’s obvious, it was an easy mistake, and we’re not all commanders of great armies.”
???
They set out on horseback. Venick took the lead, Ellina second, followed by Lin Lill, Branton, Artis, and—wearing borrowed gear and a sword she did not know how to use—Harmon. They rode single file over the grassy landscape, crouching low in their saddles, following deer trails and riverbeds and the occasional man-made path. Though the sky was still mostly dark, Ellina could map the terrain in her mind’s eye. She knew where the mountains lay to the far northeast, the glades and pastures between there and here. More importantly, she knew where a cluster of boulders sprouted from the earth just east of Igor, which matched the black dot that the captured conjuror had sketched on Venick’s map: their destination.
Ellina gripped her stallion’s reins, silently urging Venick to pick up the pace. He was being cautious. The path was riddled with roots and cracks, places a hoof could easily catch. If they were too hasty, a horse could stumble. It would throw its rider. Arms would break, or legs, or necks.
But twilight was upon them. Soon the sky would blue and lighten. If they wanted to reach the conjurors and stage their ambush the moment the sun first peeked over the horizon, they would need to hurry.
The path opened abruptly, tall stalks giving way to a wide expanse of sand and shortgrass. Ellina imagined they had gone over a cliff; the sudden flatness felt like a void. She dug in her heels, urging her horse into a gallop, but rather than pulling up beside Venick, she passed him to take the lead. He glanced at her, his hair whipping around his cheeks, his eyes grey stars in his nighttime face.
Ellina set the pace, scanning the landscape for the smoothest route. It was only when she spotted a thick band of rocks in the distance that she finally felt it: a small knot in her belly, like a sickness.
The first twinge of nervousness.
They dismounted and continued on foot, jogging silently towards the boulders. Ellina’s quiver bounced against her back. Her scabbard dug into her hip. She wished for water, but she did not want to stop for the time it would take to uncork her canteen and drink. The sky was a deep purple now. Not much longer.
The boulders were larger up close than they had seemed from a distance, sprouting from the sandy soil like the bulbous shells of giant animals. In a small clearing between them, Ellina could make out a flicker of orange light. A campfire burned to embers.
It was only then that Ellina realized she had not truly expected to find their enemy where the prisoner—Inra, Venick had called her—said they would. It did not matter that Inra had given her information in elvish; elves were masters of trickery, and Ellina knew too well how their language could be twisted in order to deceive. Yet there around the campfire were five long bedrolls, and tucked into each bedroll was a dark mass.
Venick was a solid shadow at Ellina’s side. He caught her eye. There was something in his face that looked like regret, gone so fast Ellina wondered if she had imagined it. He retook the lead as they slid into camp, each approaching a bedroll where a sleeping conjuror lay. Only Harmon remained behind, vanishing into a nearby crevice where she would wait until the ambush was over.
Ellina felt as if her chest had been filled with syrup. Her heart labored. It was impossible to tell which conjuror she might be advancing upon. They were bundled deep in their bedroll, face hidden from the cold. No movement. No elf on lookout, either. That was odd, but before Ellina could question it, Lin Lill and Branton were drawing their swords, Artis his mace, Venick his dagger. Ellina drew her own dagger, angling towards her target in a way that circumvented the fire’s waxy light and therefore prevented the fall of her shadow from giving her away.
