“CAAAWWWWWWWWW!”
The cry sounded again, from the west, near the edge of the green land cutting through the desert leading to the House of Blackstone territory. Six heads angled towards it.
“What the fuck is it? A bird?” Samuel looked at the clear skies. Kora’s scalp prickled, and her body thrummed.
“I’ve got a bad feeling . . .” She swallowed the knot forming in her throat. A perfect bruise of the chain circled her throat, and she tentatively brushed her fingers over it. A painful reminder.
“CAAAWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOO!”
Another bird-like cry followed, from the east, and she peered at the dense greenery trailing to the bountiful farming lands.
“It’s a signal,” Theron hissed. “We need to get to cover.Now!” He pointed towards the palm trees edging the Bellmoor family’s territory directly in front.
“Flat out, it’ll take us thirty minutes to cover that distance,” Samuel replied, his large hands tightening on the reins.
“Then we better get moving.” Kora glanced at Aryn and Ivar. “Can you cover us from the rear?”
Both archers nodded solemnly. A solid inch of space rested between their bodies, their muscles tight, holding their frames apart. What had Aryn seen when he’d tracked Ivar last night? Something was going on with them.
“Drop any excess baggage,” Blake ordered her.
Out of them all, Cadence carried the most saddle bags. With a curt nod, Kora cut the ties to several bags with one of her daggers. Some of the others followed suit, dropping excess rations, even a tent and clothes. Anything but water and weapons.
“Don’t look back,” Blake commanded. “Don’t veer off course. The horses will pick up speed as we converge onto harder ground. Have your weapons ready. And don’t stop for each other, your goal is the border.”
The cries continued, growing louder, turning into a low chant, and Kora’s skin prickled in response, her breathing quickening. She couldn’t spot anyone—anything—around them, and the chanting echoedeverywherewith no source. A bolting shiver skittered down her spine.This was bad.
“Now!”
She flicked her reins, her knees tightening as Cadence leapt forwards. The horse’s strong legs pounded the sandy earth, andthey flew down the curving slope of the final dune of the Silent Tundra. Kora exhaled as the desert faded away.
She raised up off the saddle, keeping her head low as Cadence gained speed, her beautiful pale mane flying in the wind. A dark, thundering shadow galloped to her left, and Erebus approached with Blake and Theron atop, the latter wielding his axes, his deep, chocolate eyes scanning around them, high on alert.
“Cadell!” Theron’s voice cut through the blasting winds.
On instinct, Kora veered Cadence to the right, just as a wooden, iron-tipped lance speared through the air, plummeting into the sandy ground a foot to her left.Shit.That’d been close. She reached behind, grasping one of her curved, sabre daggers, palming the malachite hilt. Its presence strengthened her nerves, and she urged Cadence to keep galloping.
A group of exiles converged from the western edge of the palm trees, armed with bows, lances, and crossbows. Giant boars, with thick tusks erupting from their dark, hairy jowls, interspersed the diaspora. Her gut hollowed as they advanced.
They bore weapons of the empire.
The ground flew fast beneath them, hardening as sand faded into grass. The horses’ speed increased, shortening the distance between them and the exiles.
The exiles charged, raising their lances and bows. Samuel yelled from Kora’s right and she spared a glance—a second group poured from the cluster of trees, equally armed to the teeth. Bearing the shining, silver armour of the empire.
Kora’s mind roiled. First, their finest ships in the armada, and now their weapons and armour were stolen, as well. A puzzle piece clicked in her mind, the grand picture that was shrouded in fog brightening.The attacks on the outposts.
“Keep going!” Blake’s voice commanded over the sound of the wind, the beating of the hooves, and the squawking hollers of exiles.
Kora’s heart pounded as the enemy neared and her chest tightened, her body breaking out in a sweat. They were seriously outnumbered.
Ivar began firing arrows as he expertly perched on Fajra, his legs wrapped around Aryn’s slim waist to hold him steady, their bodies flush. Each body he shot crumpled—their fellow deserters stumbling over the bleeding corpses to continue their hunt of the royal convoy. The edge of the border neared, but it was blocked on both sides as their enemies closed in.
Kora paled as Theron revealed a small selection of throwing daggers from a hidden compartment in his leathers by his legs. No harm could come to him—at any cost.They needed to get him out of here. Erick’s stern face flashed in her mind. She could not fail.
Blake whipped his reins, urging Erebus forward. The exiles’ wild cries and stomping feet became a shrill noise in her ears. All she had were her two daggers to defend herself, to defend her crew . . . she had her powers . . . but she couldn’t use those. Even if itcouldsave them all.
Up ahead, she spied a small break in the swath of baying palm trees, leading to a narrow path within the foliage. They were roughly a mile out as she gauged the distance. It seemed wide enough for the horses to fit through, and an easy way to escape.
