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They were outnumbered—if it came down to a fight, they would lose.
They’d abandoned their packs, their horses—Wilf. Serene’s gut tightened, but there was no choice except to keep running and pray Wilf was somewhere behind them, also running.
They were almost to the edge of the jungle when darts sliced through the air around them. Serene cringed and ducked, one dart sailing right beside her ear. Cardon shoved her in front of him, using his body to shield her back.
They reached the trees. Undergrowth forced them to slow down, but the lush foliage and thick vines might be enough to camouflage their escape.
Serene chanced a look back and the sight chilled her blood. Wilf had whipped around and now charged the host of warriors with his sword in hand. She stumbled to a halt, gasping out his name.
Cardon’s hand clamped around her arm, dragging her forward. “He’s giving us a chance,” he gritted out. “Don’t waste it.”
Tears stung her eyes, blurring the image of Wilf swinging his longsword. A death cry went up, but she forced herself to look away. He would escape.
If any man could take down a dozen enemies and survive, it would be Wilf.
Clinging to that hope, Serene ran as quickly as she could with Cardon. They didn’t stay on any trail. The thicker the terrain, the more likely Cardon was to dive through it. They hopped over the debris of the jungle, dodging past the towering trees and leaping over boulders.
Serene’s lungs burned and her head spun. She didn’t know how long they’d been running, but it had felt like hours when Cardon finally trotted to a stop. He peered around them, then gestured toward a natural hollow in the mossy earth. They could hunch behind the low ridge, hidden from the view of anyone who might have followed their serpentine path.
Serene dropped to the ground, breathing too heavily. Cardon crouched beside her, peering up over the lip of the crevice.
The jungle was alive with night sounds. Insects hummed and chirped. Birds cried mournfully, and leaves rustled with the movement of unknown predators.
Her eyes darted everywhere, but her thoughts ran even faster. She hadn’t been able to discern the colors of the khalmin markings, so she didn’t know which tribe had attacked. But an attack by any clan wasn’t good.
She hadn’t been the target. At least, she didn’t think so. The whole inn had been attacked—possibly the whole city of Danjuma. Was this one of the acts of random violence some of the clans had been guilty of lately, or was this something else?
The stories of the disappearances drifted through her mind, though she dismissed them. This attack would leave signs of a struggle, while those who had vanished usually did so without a trace. It couldn’t be the same thing. Could it? Dakaar had said the disappearances had become more frequent lately. Maybe they were changing in the manner they were carried out, too.
Dakaar. Had he still been inside the inn, or had he left? She had no idea if he was safe or not. Or . . . had he been the one to summon the clans? She dismissed the thought at once. James trusted Dakaar, and she trusted James.
Silence reigned. Her tension increased. If their attackers didn’t show themselves, did it mean Wilf had somehow stopped them? Or did it simply mean Cardon’s route had confused them? And how was Wilf supposed to find them?
She rubbed her forehead, her breaths slowly evening out. Her legs ached. She desperately hoped they would not have to take off running again.
Cardon finally eased back, shooting her a look. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “What now?”
His face tightened. “We can’t risk going back to Danjuma.”
Which meant they had no supplies. She swallowed. “Which direction did we run?”
“Northeast, I think.”
She envisioned a map of Zennor and cringed. “We’ll have to veer south again if we’re going to hit Matanona.” That was the next city they’d planned to stop in. She swallowed. “We have to go there. That’s where Wilf would go to find us.”
“If he’s able, yes.”
Her stomach turned. She tried to think past her fear for Wilf. If they didn’t meet up in Matanona, then she had to believe he would find them in the capital. Because if she considered the possibility that he was dead, she couldn’t breathe.
She forced herself to speak. “It will take a full day or two in the jungle without horses.”
“You’re right.” Cardon stood. “Let’s make up some of that distance now. We have too much adrenaline to sleep, anyway.”
That was true. Every nerve hummed as she pushed to her feet. She glanced around the dark jungle. “I’m not sure I can get my bearings here.”
Cardon pointed. “We’ll go that way.” As he lowered his arm, he grimaced.
