The frozen horror of the moment erupted into frenzy as half a dozen soldiers poured from the archway, daggers drawn. I hesitated for too many heartbeats, unsure in the sudden confusion which weapon to draw.
Dagger.
Sword.
Dagger.
I reached over my shoulder and unsheathed my dagger, assuming the second stance as Forest and several others lunged to attack. A second arrow whizzed over my head, and I looked up to see the lone archer restringing his bow. Heart in my teeth, I shifted my grip on the dagger, ready to throw. In the next breath, one of the nomad fighters kicked my dagger from my hand. I spun to engage him, my Neshu training taking over, sure as a heartbeat. He came at me fluidly, his dagger like a fang, slicing the air as he danced toward me. I countermoved, my knife arm arcing up—and missing. I spun and ducked, avoiding his second lunge by a hair’s breadth and reestablishing my balance before he turned to engage me a third time. As he came in for the kill, I gave a Great Cry and brought both arms up under his knife arm. He didn’t drop the dagger, but he faltered enough so that I was able to kick him in the chest. As he staggered backward, River ran at him, stabbing downward as I looked up to find the archer in the tower. He was just drawing his bow when Jasper took several running steps forward and threw his dagger. It shot through the air and landed square in the nomad’s chest. He toppled like a sack of grain to the earth, and silence fell.
Seven nomads lay dead. Along with Cedar, Mandrake had also taken an arrow, his lifeless body sprawled facedown in the muck.
My knees felt like water, and I sank heavily to them. Someone handed me my dagger; I looked up to see Dalen, his face bloodied from a slash across his cheekbone.
“It’s only a scratch,” he said, his eyes blank.
“Weapons ready,” Jasper said. “Let’s make sure no one else is inside.”
I rose, a strange numbness creeping through me as I followed Jasper and the others through the archway into the outpost. Minutes ago, we had been thirteen; now we were eleven.
The arrow could as easily have struck me, and then where would Nuaga have placed her hope? It shook me to my core to imagine that so much might depend on whether I lived or died.
We walked through the stone archway, its gate long rusted away, and stared. The charred remains of wooden structures lay smoldering, a hint of smoke still acrid on the breeze. My heart sank.
“Clearly those seven were left here to guard the plunder,” Jasper said, his voice strong and steady, as though two of our men hadn’t died minutes ago. “They didn’t expect any challenge, or there would have been more of them.”
And yet they’d fought us one-to-two, hoping the archer would give them an advantage.
Jasper scanned our faces, then frowned. “Where’s Sedge?”
“I’m here.” Sedge appeared through the archway, looking hesitant.
I tried not to watch him as he made his way toward us. His normal saunter was gone, and for a moment I thought the loss of our men had affected him.
“Where were you?” Jasper asked.
Sedge raised his chin, his mouth a tight line. “I was … out there, sir.”
“Out there … where?”
“I … lost my dagger.”
It struck me like a falling tree, and it seemed to strike Jasper, too. Sedge had hidden instead of fighting.
The word “coward” hung in the air, unspoken.
“First combat is always hardest,” Jasper said. “Let’s move on.”
We fanned out and searched the watchtowers and adjoining stone structures, the roofs of which had long ceased to be sound. Other than a cluster of lit lanterns and the nomads’ piles of bedding and provisions, we found nothing else. No nomads, no dead bodies.
“Maybe they took them prisoner,” Forest said as we returned to the open area.
I looked at the burned-out buildings. “But why? Jasper says they kill everyone in their path.”
“Meat.” Jasper’s voice was raw. “It keeps their men easily fed.”
The horror of his words coiled around me, but I only stared, unable to feel their full impact. Jasper walked past us as we gathered in the failing light, waiting for his next order.
“We’ll bring the wagon inside and double our watch,” Jasper said. “We’ll regroup, bury our dead, and head north as soon as possible.”
Forest rested his hand on my shoulder as we moved to follow Jasper’s orders. “Do you need a moment?”
“No.” My very bones trembled as I forced myself to keep moving.
Forced myself not to feel anything.
I slipped my hand into my pocket and wrapped my fingers around the little dragon until its edges dug into my flesh. I imagined I could feel the warmth of Cedar’s hand on it, and an unearthly wail threatened to escape my throat and pierce the sullen air.
I clamped my mouth shut and buried my anguish deep within my breast. Death had always been an inevitability, and I couldn’t allow it to undo me. The surge of tears that flowed cold down my face was the only release I allowed myself. I set my jaw and swiped them away.
The supply wagon held enough dry firewood for one decent blaze. The promise of warmth staved the weariness threatening to claim me, and I gladly helped carry loads of wood to the center of our circle of tents, which we’d set up as far from the burned-out buildings as possible. My eyes were ever skirting the lengths of the wall that surrounded us, searching with every heartbeat for Nuaga.
Have you found the safest route? I asked. Will you be here soon?
Nuaga’s words felt like music. I have much news. Look for me after the sun has risen.
I’ve failed. Only four trusted you, and now one of those is dead. My heart pounded as I waited for her to answer.
Let them trust you, Rain L’nahn. If they do, then whatever you trust, so will they.
I closed my eyes and drew a long breath that I was sure carried her scent. How could I tell her that allowing the men to see her when I had just parted from her had done nothing but fuel suspicion—and fear?
I dumped my final armful onto the pile at the same time Dalen dumped his, causing several of our sticks to collide and tumble back down.
“Sorry,” he said, and it took me an extra heartbeat to realize he was talking about the logs.
“Are you?” I pushed past him and walked quickly away from the log pile.
“Storm.” Dalen matched me step for step. “It’s not what you think.”
If he’d said this a day ago, I would have lashed out. Blamed him for not keeping a secret. But in the wake of sudden death, being angry with Dalen no longer seemed worth it.
“I trusted you,” I said softly.
Dalen glanced over his shoulder. “It was Sedge, s’da? He gave me a hard time, tricked me into telling him what I knew about you.”
“You’re blaming him for your inability to keep your word?”
“No, I—” He gulped. “S’da. I shouldn’t have told him.”
I steeled myself against the crescendo of emotion within me and took a slow breath. “That’s right. You shouldn’t have.”
“I’m sorry. Really.”
He looked pathetic standing in the fading light with shame in his eyes. I knew Sedge well enough to imagine how he could easily have abused Dalen into telling him anything he wanted to know.
“It’s forgotten,” I said.
“I didn’t think he’d tell anyone. Honestly.”
“Here.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the scroll. “Thanks for letting me have it.”
“You’re finished with it?”
“I memorized it.”
Dalen’s mouth dropped a bit as he took the scroll. “That’s impressive.”
“I’m a poet. Words come easily.”
“It’s still impressive,” he said, tucking the scroll into his pocket. Then he trudged away, and I turned my sight once again to the nearly dark sky.
“Be safe, Nuaga,” I whispered.
And my heart longed for her coming.
The wood, kept dry in the wagons during all the rain, ignited quickly, offering a bit of relief to the somber mood in our camp. I added my wet cloak to the dozen already spread out near the blaze. Soon the damp stench of drying soldiers mingled with the scent of stew cooking in large pots at the edge of the bonfire.
I wrinkled my nose. “Anyone could smell us from miles away.”
“It’ll strike terror in their hearts,” Forest said.
“Storm?” Kendel stood beside me, his eyes on mine. “A moment?” His voice cracked.
I nodded and followed him a few steps from the fire, answering Forest’s questioning glance with a shrug.
“Dalen says you believe in the dragons.”
“I do.” I kept my voice even.
“I’ve never met anyone from outside Ytel who’s believed.”
“What do you want to ask me, Kendel?”
He drew an audible breath. “Do you believe that Nuaga has returned?”
“Yes.”
“Are you…” His gaze drifted to his feet, and he kicked at a stone. “Does she speak to you?”
“Show me your amulet.”
He hesitated a moment, then pulled the amulet from beneath his breastplate. As he held it, I wrapped my hand around his wrist. I waited three breaths. Four. Faintly, the amulet began to glow orange. Kendel’s eyes grew round as the glow became brighter, and I released his wrist.
He dropped the amulet and clapped his hand on my shoulder, gripping me solidly. “You’re Onen.”
“No.” I didn’t feel like explaining. “But I’ve received Nuaga’s mark.”
Kendel’s mouth formed a soundless O as he let his hand drop. “Dragon’s blood. Have you?”
“Yes. She wanted me to help the others trust her, but I’ve failed. How do you teach someone to trust something they fear—or that they don’t even believe in?”
“I trust her. And you.”
“Thank you, Kendel.” It felt good, this show of solidarity. “I wish Jasper would say the same.”
“Talk to him.”
“I’ve already tried.”
Kendel’s gaze was more direct than I’d ever seen it. “Maybe you should try again.”
We stood for a few moments in silence. Then we made our way back to the fire, and I settled beside Forest and offered him a subtle expression to let him know I’d tell him later what Kendel had said. When the soup was ready, we lined up for our steaming bowls and settled back around the fire to warm our bellies. The salty broth, laden with turnips, carrots, and dried fish from the stores in the tower, was a feast on my tongue.
Jasper scraped the last bit of soup into his mouth, then wiped his hands on his britches and asked for our attention. My stomach tightened.
“Tomorrow at first light, we’ll bury our dead and burn the enemy corpses.” He spoke as though they were less than human, and I remembered the hatred with which I’d stabbed the stuffed doll. “The last news I had was that the high king’s army was conducting a series of small attacks on Tan Vey’s southern flank to distract and slow them down. Ultimately, they want to engage the enemy just south of Ylanda City, to hold them at bay as long as possible. In the days that have passed, though, we have no way of knowing what has happened.”
Silence met him. I gazed again into the night sky, my heart thrusting itself against my ribs. If I could scout, I’d be able to meet Nuaga some distance from camp, which would be so much better than the risk of terrifying everyone if they happened to see her.
“Our goal remains to rescue the high king before Tan Vey breaks through our forces and takes the capital,” Jasper continued. He swept his gaze across our firelit faces. “The nomads have had to deal with the rain, as we have. That may work to our advantage—but we’re still dealing with unknowns. Kendel, Forest, and Rock, I want you to track for a mile in all directions in the morning. Despite the rain, you may find evidence of the route Tan Vey’s men followed after they took the outpost—and whether they’ve brought our men with them.”
I was disappointed that Jasper hadn’t asked me to track; I was small and fast, and he knew it. The sinking feeling that Nuaga’s appearance—and the discovery that I’d been outside of camp—had affected his ability to trust me crept through my stomach.
“First thing tomorrow morning, I’m going to scout to the north,” Jasper said. “I’ll be back well after dark—sooner if I can. With the information I’ve brought, we’ll leave first thing the following morning for Ylanda City.”
“With due respect, why you, sir?” River asked. “Any of us would be willing to scout for you.”
“Because I want to take the responsibility,” Jasper said. “And because I’m fastest.”
It wasn’t true. He was by far the greatest Neshu fighter I’d ever met, with the possible exception of Papa, but I was faster on my feet. And Jasper knew it.
He ended by laying out the night’s double watch and suggesting we bank the fire sooner than later. Conversation buzzed low around me, but I was miles from it. I waited until Jasper wasn’t talking with anyone else; then I rose and stood beside him.
“Sir.”
He looked up. “Yes?”
“A word.”
My heart tumbled in all directions as he lit the lamp sitting at his feet and rose. He made a small motion with the lamp for me to follow him outside the fire’s light to the wall near the entryway. I walked several paces behind him, my eyes on the back of his head, reminding myself that I had earned my place in this special unit and that Jasper had seen value in me, even if he now had doubts.
“I’d like you to send me to scout,” I said.
Jasper’s face was a map of hard lines. “I’ve made it clear why I want to go myself.”
“I know,” I said. “But I’m smallest and fastest. I want to do this.”
“Storm, it’s no secret that most of the men in this unit believe you have something to do with that dragon’s appearance, no matter how I try to convince them that it was surely some ruse of the enemy.”
“What does their belief have to do with my willingness to scout?”
“I’m going. End of discussion.”
Anger tightened my words. “Forgive me, but I think you’re foolish to go.”
“Noted.” Jasper’s gaze was unwavering, his voice even.
“There’s a fine line between strength and stubbornness,” I said. “If you choose to cross that line and put your men in jeopardy by risking your life, then let it be said that at least one of us tried to stop you.”
His mouth opened as though he had a quick retort, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he let out a long, slow breath. “It’s true you’re our fastest.”
“Thank you.”
He hesitated. “You call it stubbornness, but you have no idea what you’re talking about.” I waited, not daring to speak while he made his decision. “S’da,” he finally said. “You can leave before dawn for the farthest point north of the plateau. Get there and back as quickly as you can.”
My skin tingled. “Yes, sir.”
He placed his lamp in a niche in the wall, then pulled his master copy of the map from a long leather tube and unrolled it. “You’ve studied this,” he said. “Five miles east, across the stretch of Nevora Plateau but before you reach Fingerling Forest, is a ridge overlooking the Plains of Seeking. Ylanda City sits high on a hill, visible from a long distance. From the ridge, Tweezer Pass will sit to your right—there.” His finger traced the route. “Our army is hoping to stop them at the pass. If they haven’t engaged them yet—or if they’ve failed—Tan Vey will have moved on toward the capital from there. You’ll have an excellent vantage point from the ridge. I need a report of the enemy’s progress and the likelihood of a clear path to Ylanda City.”
I nodded, my chest swelling with the trust Jasper was placing in me. “I understand.”
He handed me the map. “Tell me if you have any questions.”
I didn’t need to look, but I looked anyway for a moment or two. Then I handed him the map.
“No questions.”
“Be careful. We need you, Storm.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but this time he looked so uncertain and every bit the young man he was. Not that much older than me.
“Thank you for letting me do this,” I said.
He nodded. “Sometimes it’s hard to know what’s right.”
“You’re a good leader.”
Jasper tightened his lips. “It’s my first command. And the only reason I’m here is because my father isn’t.”
“The men trust you,” I said.
He straightened. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
“It helps to say things.”
“You’re different, Storm,” Jasper said. “You know how to listen. It will serve you well.”
If only you knew how different I am. “Thank you, sir.”
“You’ll need to leave before first light.”
“You can count on me.”
“I know,” Jasper said.
I bowed my head and turned to go.
“Storm.” He waited while I turned around to face him. “Thank you.”
I nodded and headed back to the fire, determined to surpass Jasper’s expectations. Forest met my eye.
“What was that about?” he asked.
“I told him I wanted to scout in the morning,” I said.
“You just … told him?”
“It took a little convincing.”
His jaw tightened, as though words were getting stuck. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Walk up to Jasper and tell him what you want.” He lowered his voice. “Is it because…?” He shot a glance at my chest.
I went cold, then hot inside. “Are you kidding?”
“No. I mean—”
“It’s clear what you mean.” I rose, my throat hot with unspoken anger. “I need to get to sleep.”
I walked to our tent, my heart stinging. I didn’t know which was worse—Forest being more amazed by my skill after he’d learned I was a girl, or his assumption that Jasper had said yes to me because of my hidden feminine wiles.
When he came into the tent a short while later, I pretended I was asleep.
