They walkedfor hours through the cool morning, breaking only once, but she began to worry about Sol as the day wore on. Arusset leaf fell in a lazy spiral to settle on his shoulder and it was almost like he could feel the weight of it. His shoulders sagged and Copper slowed his pace to a careful walk. Sol’s head dipped lower with every mile.
He was turning feverish, she thought. The air was cool, but sweat beaded on his face. She’d dosed him with willow bark before they left camp that morning, but he already needed more.
“We can stop if you need to rest,” she said. “Are you bleeding?”
“I don’t think we should stop here.” His voice was low, strained. “We’re still too close to the rot. A few more hours and we’ll look for a spot to camp.”
“It won’t do either of us any good if you push yourself to exhaustion.”
He rubbed a hand down his face. “We need to get clear of the woods as quickly as possible. The captain?—”
“Isn’t here,” she cut him off. “It’s my job to keep you alive.”
Sol gave her a patient, almost patronizing look, and she realized Casrian had probably told him the same thing about her.
“There’s rope in my bag,” Sol said. “Tie me to the saddle if you must. We need to keep going. Can’t you feel it?”
A shiver ran down her spine at the question. Because shecouldfeel it. Something watching them from the trees. The quiet of the valley. The trees hadn’t warned her about anything, but she’d been distracted all morning, worrying about Sol, thinking about Casrian,worryingabout Casrian even though he was more than capable of taking care of himself.
She glanced over her shoulder but saw nothing amiss. The sun was still out, filtering down in patches to the forest floor. A light wind stirred the branches overhead, making them creak. They’d reached a low-lying area that she wasn’t familiar with.The ground was muddy and there were patches of standing water, but it was still passable.
The wind picked up and the smell of decaying vegetation came to her. She reached out to the trees, but though they had not yet been taken by the rot, they slept deeply here. None of them responded to her gentle query.
A crow cawed overhead and she jumped.
Sol lifted his head, squinting into the trees. “Can you actually use that bow?”
“Bad luck to shoot a crow.”
They saw everything and held grudges.
His hand went to the hilt of his sword, but his fingers trembled. “Crows are funny birds. They’re not aggressive toward humans on their own, but witches like to use them because they’re smart. You can’t trust any animal in the woods here to act natural. Watch out for your eyes. They go for the soft parts first.”
Well, wasn’t that a pleasant thought?
She pulled the bow from around her shoulders, lifted an arrow from her quiver. Save for the rustle of feathers from the crow as it settled in to watch their slow progress, the woods were quiet. Beneath that breathless hush, she heard the soft snap of a twig. Sol flinched, turning slightly to track the sound so she knew he heard it too.
It came from the left where the shadows were deeper, reminding her of when the witch had appeared to her in the woods, taking shape out of darkness.
Another snap. Slow. Deliberate. Something was pacing them.
She walked faster, scanning the woods for the threat.
“We ran into a bear on our way to find you,” she said under her breath.
She hoped it was a bear.
Another dozen feet and there was a faint rustle of leaves to their left. Copper snorted, his nostrils flaring.
“Go ahead of me,” she told Sol. “I’ll catch up. Do you see the copse of alder ahead?”
The alders were safe. The pines to the left were dodgy. Once they got past this patch of rot, she thought they’d be all right.
“I’m not leaving you,” Sol grumbled. “The captain would have my head. You go first. I’m faster with the horse.”
The crow cawed again and leapt from the branch in a flurry of movement, swooping toward them. She pulled back on the bow, but the crow lifted even as she took aim, fleeing into the canopy. She eased up, but left her arrow nocked.
There was another rustle of leaves.
