Page 93

The wind’s coming uphill, and the wolves are still on it under the wet pine, a long way down. Somewhere else to look. Cloud’s come down over the far ridge.

“We’ll go down the far side first.” I point along the bare rock. “Then we cross the trail we left coming back from the field, below the climb.”

She looks toward the trees. “And take him where?”

“Farther down the valley. There are low branches beside the water. We can leave your scent along them.”

“He’ll smell you too.”

“He already has.”

She looks down the slope with her hand on the knife.

“He won’t leave it just because the other trail’s fresher.”

“Then he’ll have two to follow.”

“He brought Axan. They’ll take one each.”

I hadn’t thought of that. “Then it costs them time.” I keep an ear on the slope. “That’s all I want from it.”

“How do we come back?”

“Over the stone above the water. Part of the way we’ll walk back over our own trail.”

I point at the long run of bare rock below us. “They may find where we turn. It’ll take longer there.”

She nods and starts along the ledge beside me.

The first drop’s a long step down, and I feel it in my legs. I hold my hand up for her, and she takes it and lowers herself with her bad arm tucked in. She hangs on until her legs stop shaking.

She lets go of my hand. “My legs still hurt.”

Mine aren’t much better.

“We’ll take the lower way.” I nod toward the trees.

“Good.” She steps past me. “I’ve had enough mountains this week.”

I shorten my stride when we reach the trees. She walks beside me where there’s room, holding the shirt hem up out of the deadfall. She needs something that fits her. At the next turn she stops to pick it off a twig, and I keep my hands to myself and let her.

We stay above the river until the ground flattens, and that’s where we meet our own trail coming up between two pines. It still smells of my smoke.

The wolves are farther upstream. I stand and listen, and she holds still beside me without being told. Then I take her across.

A low branch hangs over the path ahead. I unfold the cloth and drag the stained side along the bark. It’s stiff enough to snag, first on the branch and then on a claw, and I leave the threads where they catch. Let him find those.

Kestria comes up beside me.

“Rauk, let me carry it. It’s my blood.”

She reaches for the cloth. I step back and growl at her.

Her hand stops in the air. I look at it, then at the cloth I’m holding away from her, and the growl stops. Hitto.

I clear my throat.

“No. I will protect it.”