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Magiere looked back for her companions. Wy
"Of all the idiotic ways to cross land," he grumbled. "My backside will never be the same."
"We're close," Magiere half whispered, "but we'll stop for the night."
He quieted in surprise and looked up at a patch of gray sky between the treetops. Magiere knew it was unusual to halt this early, and Leesil studied her, all traces of irritation gone.
"There's still a bit of light left," he said. "Are you all right?"
"Yes…" she started. "Only… I've stayed away from this place for so long."
He reached out and grasped her wrist, slender hand warm against her skin.
"It's a little late to ask, with a long road behind us," he said. "But are you sure you want this? We can turn back, head north through Stravina and into the Warlands."
The urge to follow him away from this place made Magiere tense at the suggestion. The desire to flee her past as she'd done years ago-this time with Leesil beside her- was so strong. But there were questions to answer.
What am I?… Why am I here?
Why was I made… by an undead to hunt its own kind?
Wy
"We'll stop," Magiere said, pulling her wrist from Leesil's comforting grip. "Wy
Wy
They busied themselves with their tasks. Chap followed Wy
"A king should pay more attention to the kingdom's roads," Leesil muttered, pulling biscuits and apples from a burlap sack.
"Droevinka has no king," Wy
Leesil handed her an apple. "What?"
"There is no hereditary monarchy, only a grand prince."
Leesil snorted. "What's the difference? A king by any other title… is most often still a tyrant-or at best, oblivious."
Magiere knew the distinction in her homeland well enough, though she'd never cared to comprehend rulers and their ways. It would have changed little in her early life.
"I've read some of the Belaskian histories," Wy
"A few have tried," Magiere said, too preoccupied to feel bitter. "Their constant plots and schemes leave little attention for anything more than each house keeping a throttlehold on its province. Villagers pay taxes and pray their lords don't become ambitious. Better to scrape out a living as a serf than to die and rot as a conscripted soldier in their prince's bid for a king's crown."
Chap whined, and Wy
"So who rules the land we're on now?" Leesil asked.
"The Antes," Magiere answered.
"They hold most of the land closest to the river," Wy
Leesil raised a blond eyebrow at Magiere.
"They would be your heartless tyrants," she whispered. "That's all you need know."
Leesil frowned as he checked his kindling drying beside the fire.
Wy
After so many nights, Magiere knew this one phrase, though there wasn't really a need for Elvish to ask the dog what he wanted to eat. He'd eat most anything dangled in front of his nose, and the choices were limited anyway. Chap scooted close to the sage and reached out a paw to touch a few symbols on the talking hide.
"Dried fish," Wy
Leesil's frown deepened. He rolled his shoulders as if the shirt beneath his wool cloak itched. Magiere tried to ignore his reaction.
Such exchanges with Chap still bothered Leesil. In all honesty, now that the dog's nature was partially revealed, Magiere had begun to appreciate how well Wy
Leesil pursed his lips, handed over his knife, and then
pulled out some smoke-dried fish. Wy
ing an apple."
Staring into the fire, Magiere's hand settled absently on her falchion's hilt, middle fingertip tracing the small glyph in its pommel. The blade injured a Noble Dead like no other weapon. This, her studded hauberk, and two amulets had been left to her by a father she'd never known upon the death of a mother she'd never met. During the battle in Bela, she'd given Leesil the topaz amulet that glowed yellow when an undead was near. She no longer needed it; her dhampir senses were enough to warn her, and the amulet might well warn Leesil of danger if she couldn't.
The other trinket remained a mystery, in part, but she wore it in plain view- A small half-oval tin backing held a chip of bone with mysterious fine writing carved into its surface. It had been used only once, and she'd been unaware of that until too late. Welstiel had told Leesil that a dhampir could absorb life from blood only if the bone touched her skin while she fed. Leesil had recklessly done just that, feeding her from his own wrist when she'd been wounded during their first hunt for Miiska's undead. She touched the amulet now and wondered how dependable Welstiel's words might be. The bone amulet felt warm, perhaps from the fire, and she scooted back to sit against a tree trunk.
All traces of daylight disappeared, and darkness closed around the camp. Leesil picked up a wool blanket and came to settle beside her. As he covered both their legs, Magiere reached around him and pulled him close until he leaned into her arms. His warmth against her burrowed deeper than the heat of the flames, smothering her chill. Leesil leaned his head back on her shoulder, watching Wy
"She's spoiling him," he whispered.
Magiere almost smiled. Tomorrow, they reached Chemestuk, her… home? No, not anymore. Her home was far away, at the Sea Lion tavern in the port town of Miiska, where she lived a peaceful life with Leesil. How long would it be until she was truly home again?
For this moment, she held on to Leesil's warmth and the sight of a large wolfish dog sloppily chomping pieces of apple.