I did not savor the thought of what they would do to Cara if they caught us.
“They are gaining,” Kiegan said calmly, without turning. “They had longer to rest their horses.”
“I know.”
Colm was trying to close before the trees got thick enough to matter. He was being optimistic and incorrect, as he oftenwas; we would beat him into the thickening forest. After that he would pull the flankers back and consolidate, and then we would simply be eight horses against three in whatever terrain came next.
“Not enough for it to matter. Yet.”
“Are you sure you want to keep leading them up orc territory?”
“Can’t have them tying us back to Bismyth.”
Cara’s voice was breathless with the riding, each breath almost a grunt. “Where there’s trouble, don’t they know there’syou?”
“And now you, mortal.” We were a pair.
“A pair.”Shadowbane sounded typically self-satisfied with himself.“Lightbringer will like her very much.”
“As long as I keep her alive and get her to the Claiming,”I reminded him. The clock was ticking. Orc territory was a shortcut as long as we didn’t end up fighting for our lives.
“We’re moving further from the border. Orc clans won’t take it well if they catch them.” There was no need to clarify, but Kiegan grunted, “Or us.”
Obsidian had avoided the orc territory on the way in—I should’ve cut through orc territory and outpaced them—but now they would follow us in. Regaining the knife was worth the cost, though they would fear the orc by our side meant we had permission from the orc king. That provided an opportunity to scare them off our trail.
Hopefully, we didn’t find ourselves meeting with the king.
A wisp of memory rose for me: getting a shoulder under Kiegan’s arm, staggering under his weight for a moment, helping him through the academy gates, so covered in blood and gore it was hard to tell what was his shattered pieces and what was his brothers’.
Behind us and to the side, the pace of hoofbeats slackening; Colm’s adjustment was happening a little early, the flankers pulling back, the line consolidating. Close enough.
A branch whipped toward us. I raised an arm to shield Cara from it, and it stung sharply across my arm, then cheekbone. She flinched against my chest, drawing back into me, then looked up, her eyes widening at the sight of the blood now damp against my face. It didn’t matter. Not now.
The orcs rose out of the shadows of the trees. Three of them, large and unhurried, letting themselves be seen now because it served them. They were a line, spaced far apart; we could rush the horses and slip between them. The problem would be what came afterward.
I whistled to Kiegan. He glanced at me sharply—I never whistled with Bismyth—and understood my ask better than I could’ve hoped. He was already checking his horse and swinging down. I drew to a stop beside him, and he threw the reins at me.
Hoofbeats, behind us, suddenly drew to a stop.
Obsidian calculating: the line of trees, the orcs, the border suddenly growing teeth. They could potentially take three orcs. But it would cost them.
None of them crossed.
Colm didn’t know Orcish. Obsidian in general was not studious. I doubted they could hear at their distance, and I doubted even more they could understand if they did. Hopefully, they would believe we had passage through Orc territory.
Kiegan greeted the orcs in their own dialect. I had enough of it to follow the bones, though not to speak well enough without insulting.
I dropped my lips low to Cara’s ear to translate. “Let us pass. Stop the shifter clan behind us.”
I might’ve savored the flash of admiration in her eyes if I’d been more certain we would make it out of this vise formed by enemies before and behind.
It was an audacious request, and even if I had not known their language passably, I would’ve been able to guess from their body language and laughter that they also found it audacious.
“You can ride from your own funeral without our help, halfling,” I murmured into her ear. “That’s…a more polite version.”
I wished I didn’t have Cara in my lap now because it would complicate things if I had to swing my sword. If she were on her own horse, I could send her running and keep them from reaching her.
Kiegan offered them a short, harsh laugh of his own.
