Rawn withdrew a long rod of wood from the water, an oar he must have used to steer the raft. “It had served me well enough to pass the bridge unseen.”
“With your horse?” Zev scented the elvish steed on Rawn’s clothing, but it was nowhere to be seen.
“Fair awaits me in a northern wood past the bluffs.”
Cassiel shook his head. “That will not hold us all.”
“Then we swim,” Zev said as he stripped off the borrowed cloak. Cassiel’s mouth pursed in distaste at the water. “You cannot risk flying a second time. Someone may have spotted you already. Dyna … will have to ride with Lord Norrlen.”
Rawn knew how to steer the raft, so it was best that both he and Cassiel stay on alert. Zev called on his wolf. A dull ache went through him as his muscles and bones fluidly shifted. He landed on all four paws and shook out his flank. His nose flared at the scent of blood, ash, and sweat mingling with stagnant water and rotting plant matter.
Zev turned to look at his companions, and he froze. His wolf eyes were much more sensitive, catching things his usual sight wouldn’t. Light haloed around Cassiel. That was no surprise, but Dyna ... light streamed from her as bright as a star in the night.
Like a Celestial.
“All right?” Cassiel asked as he kicked off his boots.
Zev turned away, needing to clear his spotty vision and his head.
“May I take her?” Rawn asked.
Zev growled at him, now more ruled by his wild instincts. He was hesitant to hand over his cousin to a stranger. Cassiel also took a step back, arms tightening around her. How well could they trust Lord Norrlen even if he had come to their aid?
Rawn dropped to one knee in the muddy bank before Zev as one would for a lord. He laid a hand over his heart, turquoise eyes looking into his. “On my life, you have my sworn word that I will see you and yours to safety.”
It was an oath given unreservedly. Zev had heard oaths given by the elves were a binding promise. Though he was reluctant to believe it, he could hear Rawn’s heart beating steadily. It carried no lie.
Zev looked at Cassiel and his expression tensed. He reluctantly passed Dyna to Rawn, holding on a second longer before releasing his grasp.
“Careful,” he said, his hard tone braced in a warning.
“No harm will come to Lady Dyna.” Rawn placed her on the raft and quickly climbed on. “Make haste. We mustn’t tarry here any longer.”
With the rod, he pushed off the bank. Zev and Cassiel slipped into the murky water and flanked the raft, swimming on either side of it. The passing greenery was still and quiet, save for the soft churn of water and the chatter of wildlife in the surrounding trees. Zev listened for any threat, sniffing the air for hidden enemies, but his attention continued to draw back at Dyna.
Her light—what did it mean? Did the Prince’s blood do more than heal her? In the alley, Zev had no way of locating her scent. She had been lost to them until Cassiel found her. On instinct, he said. There would be a time to ask about that later.
They reached the Kazer Bluffs. The cliff face rose high, a dominating presence casting a wide shadow over the loch. From what Zev had studied on the map, the bluffs were near the midway point of the kingdom. It was the last southern landmark before the Azure King’s castle in The Blue Capitol.
It was an odd feeling being so far away from all that he knew, but nothing at all compelled him to go back. The journey had been set in risk from the beginning, and danger was imminent now that Dyna was a target, but Zev no longer had doubts about the Prince. He now knew Cassiel would fiercely protect her after seeing what he’d done to get her back.
The Prince remained close to the raft during the long swim. His cool, unwavering gaze remained on her and the elf.
“Ask your questions if you must,” Lord Norrlen said as he rowed.
Zev nodded to Cassiel. He would have to speak for them both.
“Why were you in Corron?”
“I went in search of a courier to deliver a letter,” Rawn said.
“A letter for whom?”
“To my—” Rawn whipped his head to the left as an arrow zipped past his nose.
Zev snarled and Cassiel swore. A group of men stood at the peak of the Kazer Bluffs. Their faces were masked in the sun’s low blaze at their backs. Another sat upon a horse, cloak fluttering in the breeze. A girl accompanied him. Tresses of long black hair streamed from beneath her hood. She raised her bow and nocked another arrow.
They were too far down the loch for any normal archer to hit their target. Zev calculated they were over two-hundred yards away, yet she had nearly taken the elf’s head. The current was carrying them farther still.
