I frown. “Youremember—”
“Yes.” Callyn looks back at the scraver, and for a moment, her voice falters. “You were in Briarlock. Right?” She hesitates, then wets her lips. “You helped my sister.”
“Youhelped your sister,” says the scraver. “I simply helped direct your magic.”
“Why did you wreck our carriage?” I demand. “What do you want?”
“From you?” the scraver says dismissively. Bitterly cold wind whips around us, lifting her hair and stinging my cheeks. “Nothing.”
“You want me?” says Callyn. She takes a step back, nearly colliding with me. “Why?”
“Nakiis is badly injured. I need your magic.”
“Nakiis,” Callyn whispers, like the name is unfamiliar. “Was he in Briarlock, too?”
“Yes. He helped Tycho protect your king.” The scraver’s head cocks to the side, and then, without warning, she leaps into the air, and she’s gone.
Callyn whips around in a full circle. Her breath is still coming in clouded bursts. “What happened? Where did she go?”
But then we hear pounding hoofbeats, and a dozen soldiers come galloping through. I think they might stop when they see the broken trap lying on its side, but they don’t. Callyn and I have to scramble into the trees to clear the path so we don’t get trampled.
Once the soldiers are gone, I look down. Callyn has a tight grip on my forearm. Is she afraid? Or was she worried I would flag down the soldiers?
She follows my gaze, and it’s as if she’s surprised to find her hand there, too. Her cheeks turn pink, and she lets go. Her eyes flick to the trees and sky, looking for the scraver.
“Did the soldiers scare her off?” she murmurs.
A voice reaches our ears, but it’s not like any voice I’ve ever heard.
— They did not scare me, magesmith. But after what Xovaar did to your king, those soldiers would shoot me out of the sky.
“Xovaar,” I murmur. None of these names are familiar. I look at Callyn and realize that she might’ve been hiding more than just her magic. I keep my voice low. “Do you know this Xovaar? Do you know Nakiis?”
Callyn shakes her head rapidly. “I barely even knowthis one.”
— My name is Igaa. As I said, I need your help.
“Why should she help you?” I call back. “Your people are attacking Syhl Shallow. Maybe those soldiersshouldshoot you out of the sky.”
There’s no warning aside from a few rustling leaves before I’mtackled to the ground so hard that I go skidding into the underbrush. The sword catches on a branch and slips out of my hand. Leaves and branches work their way under my armor, but if I weren’t wearing any, she might’ve crushed my ribs. As it is, she lands on my chest, her claws gripping tight to my throat.
For an instant, all I see are her eyes, black and gleaming in the sunlight. Fear grips my heart, and I can’t think. I can’tmove.
But then I hear Callyn’s voice, tight with strain. “Let him go.”
Igaa leans down closer, but her words are for Callyn, not me. “I don’t need him. I just needyou, magesmith.”
“I’m not a magesmith.” Callyn’s voice is breathy but strong. “But I have his sword— and I know how to use it.”
Good girl.
But Igaa doesn’t move. I can feel every claw pressing into my skin. It hurts to breathe.
“Let me up,” I say.
“No.”
“Use the sword,” I say to Callyn.
