Page 168 of Wind Rider

Thaddeus’s mean little eyes glared at Death, but as usual, the Hunter held his anger against the God, choosing to spew poison instead.

“That means the bitch was here with the traitor, Nik, and those other cowards who followed him. They stole these boats that night they escaped the Tribe.”

Death looked at his Blade, Iron Fist, who nodded and said, “These do appear to be the craft I followed.”

“Wait, youfollowedthose fucking traitors and didn’t do anything about them? Didn’t say anything about them? We could have gone after Nik and that bitch—and I’ll bet that’s where O’Bryan and Davis, as wellas Wilkes and Claudia, disappeared to. What the hell is wrong with you?” Thaddeus shouted at Iron Fist.

Ralina bit the side of her cheek to keep herself from speaking the truth—that Thaddeus was the traitor, not Nik and not the lucky Tribe members who had the good sense to follow him. But she didn’t have to say anything. Nor did she have to wait for Thaddeus to be reprimanded.

“Thaddeus, my Blade was following my orders. Do you presume to question my command?” Death spoke in a deceptively calm voice that Ralina recognized all too well as the precursor to terrible violence.

Thaddeus recognized it, too, because he paled and bowed quickly to the God. “Of course not, my Lord. I was just surprised. I assumed you would have shared information about the traitors with me.”

“Why?”

“Because they are traitors to my people!”

“Your people are now my people,” Death said. “And I have a very special way I like to deal with traitors. We will catch them, and I just might let you observe how I admonish them.”

“They are traveling to the Plains of the Wind Riders, too?” Thaddeus asked.

Death glanced at Iron Fist and nodded.

The Reaper answered Thaddeus. “They are. They plan to begin anew there by forming something they call a Pack.”

“That’s a lucky coincidence—but not for them,” Thaddeus said cruelly before he walked from the neatly beached group of boats to stand at Death’s side. “My Lord, should the Hunters and I go into the mountains and try to track and hire another Lynx guide?”

Death laughed. “No, my eager Hunter. That will not be necessary.”

“But we are going to travel through the mountains, aren’t we?”

“We are, indeed,” Death said.

Thaddeus sighed in exasperation. “Then we’ll need a guide. I’m not going into those Sun-be-damned mountains near the end of summer without one.”

Death rounded on him, using one massive hand at Thaddeus’s throat to lift him off his feet.

“Then do not enter the mountains!” the God roared, raining spittle onto Thaddeus’s face. “Remain behind, like the Saleesh women and children, good only for temporary amusement, but not strong enough to complete the journey!”

Thaddeus tried to speak, but all he could manage was a squeak.

Ralina tried not to enjoy Thaddeus’s humiliation too much. Sadly, she was sure Death wouldn’t kill the Hunter—he was too valuable as long as they journeyed. He led his Hunters and Warriors in daily hunts, being sure there was always fresh fish or game, which was a good thing as the Reapers were terrible at hunting. And the Milks? So far they were only good for killing and dying.

And they had died—by the boatloads in the lake crossing, most especially as they’d traveled past the last ruin of the Golden Man.

Ralina shuddered at the memory. She didn’t think she would ever get rid of the vision of Mouths and Monkeys swarming capsized boats and pulling the shrieking Milks under the water.

They’d lost almost half of Death’s army during the lake crossing—and still there were hundreds of them crowded onto boats, their white eyes staring at the horizon as they murmured strange, fragmented things to one another.

Thaddeus’s Hunters and Warriors had only lost one small boat, though, and that was early in the journey. Thaddeus was a cowardly monster, but he was sly. After the first disastrous ruin crossing he’d taken to following in the wake of Death’s boat when they passed any ruin.

Death’s Reapers, too, had survived the water crossing with only a few losses, as they never strayed too far from their God’s side.

Death dropped Thaddeus, and the Hunter gasped for air, fishlike.

“Now, ask me why a Lynx guide is not necessary,” Death said, sounding reasonable, even fatherly.

Ralina had decided one of the most frightening things about the God was His ability toappearcompassionate. The truth was, Death was utterly amoral. The only reason He ever showed compassion was because it either amused or benefited Him.