We had to make it over the crest of the mountain and find a shelter by nightfall, keeping the trail in sight so our tracks wouldn’t give us away.
Every noise brought us to a halt. Kolibri’s ears flickered madly as the mare sensed our hesitation. I leaned into her soft neck and sang under my breath, though I kept my eyes trained forward for movement through the sparse trees.
Shadows drifted as the sun passed overhead. Twigs snapped under the weight of shifting ice. Hollow wind played with my mind, luring my attention to the corners of empty air.
My ears strained for the sound of anything—lungs, hearts, hooves—hidden under the drifts. But it was my nose that detected the presence of humans first.
Lips in a tight circle, I whistled.
Kye stopped at once, eyes aloft as he waited for Kolibri to stand astride Sero.
“Smoke,” I murmured, my voice low. “East of here.”
“I don’t see anything,” he said, casting his eyes around the curve of the trail ahead.
I nodded, stroking Kolibri with a calm hand. “You will.”
Kye spent a moment raking the air with his gaze, though he was right. Nothing was visible yet. “Stay close,” he whispered, clicking his tongue for Sero to walk.
We rode as quickly as we could afford, darting through twisted ash trees when the trail allowed, though there were less and less of them as we neared the peaks above. Ice and rock tumbled under Kolibri’s hooves, grasping me by the heart every time she jerked to reconnect hoof to stable ground.
It was midday when the sound of voices drove us from the trail.
I heard them first. I lifted my chin and let out a frantic trill, already leading Kolibri into the snowy brush. Kye followed without question, sending Sero in after us. His dappled silver body blended into the muddied drifts as if he’d been painted there, but Kolibri’s black coat stood out like a drop of blood on white parchment. Hands shaking, I ripped my gray wool blanket from my pack, spreading it over the mare’s back and neck.
The voices grew louder. The sound of boots breaking through snow.
Kye took the bridle from my hand, gently tugging Kolibri’s head toward the ground, coaxing her to lay down. The mare chuffed at him, swinging her long nose away and pounding the snow with an iron shoe.
Kye darted a look over his shoulder. “Come on, baby girl,” he purred, holding the reins low until she dropped her head.
Snow crunched behind us, just around the corner we’d turned.
“Comeon,” he soothed. Kolibri flicked an ear toward the noise, adjusting the weight of her hind feet. “Tap the backs of her legs,” he murmured to me.
I squatted to do so, and Kolibri’s front knees folded to the snowy floor. The rest of her body followed, rocking backward as the three of us dropped out of sight.
Back against the tall drifts, I held my breath. Two voices came from the other side, though I counted three human hearts beating. I waited for them to spot the diverted tracks in the snow, but the pair carried on their conversation, seemingly clueless as they passed.
Turning my head, I met Kye’s eyes sidelong. He stared hard at me, his breath caged in his chest, a hand resting over my forearm, though I knew his focus was rapt on the sound of passing hooves. The voices rounded the curve, and he waited a moment before leaning forward to stand.
I flung my palm against his shoulder, stopping him.
One set of lungs hadn’t moved on with the others. Someone had stopped where I’d thought they might.
Eyes round, Kye heeded my silent message and sank back into his heels. His hand drifted to his shoulder, closing around the hilt of his sword and silently unsheathing it. He turned to face the trail.
I waited for them to move, whoever they were. For footsteps to return to my ears.
And then, Kye inched up the drift. My fist closed on the edge of his jacket. I shook my head, but he belly-crawled high enough to peek an eye over the edge.
He glanced back at me. “There’s nothing th—”
Kye’s head whipped back, ducking under the arc of blade as it sliced through the air. As though his bones had known it was coming. He scrambled back to gain his footing. The tip of the man’s sword struck ice, embedding itself in the drift. Its owner gave it a desperate yank as Kye shot up the snowy hill and slid down the other side.
I clawed up after him, raw panic driving my arms and legs. One man wasn’t very many. But there were two more close by, near enough to hear us. And an entire camp somewhere beyond them. I crested the snowbank as the Rivean soldier freed his sword. Too slowly, he turned to meet Kye. Rotating his torso into the tip of Kye’s blade.
Kye stepped into the man, driving his sword clean through the soldier’s gut.
