"But arming them also makes them more dangerous to my clan."
"Your clan's safety isn't my priority. My sister's is."
Honest. Brutal. Completely reasonable from her perspective.
And completely unacceptable from mine.
I spit into the dust between us, the gesture carrying the formal rejection.
"We're not allies."
4
RESSA
Idon't flinch. Instead, I turn my back on him and shoulder my pack.
"Not yet."
The contradiction slides out soft as silk, sharp as winter. Kaelgor's silence behind me shows consideration. He's thinking, not just reacting. Good. Thoughtless allies are worse than honest enemies.
Thorne groans as I haul him upright. His broken leg dangles uselessly, but he can still talk, and that's what matters. Information has value. Everything else is secondary.
"Can you walk?" I ask Kaelgor without looking back.
"I can walk."
"Then follow me. We have business to finish."
The path out of Ember Hollow winds through collapsed archways and shattered courtyards, where morning light filters through dust clouds still settling from our recent escape. Each step takes us further from the ruins and closer to complications I'm not ready to face.
Heldrik won't approve.
He never approves.
My uncle sees everything through the lens of military advantage and territorial control. Personal motivations are weakness. Emotional attachments are liabilities. That I'm bringing an Ironspine warrior to our forward camp will trigger exactly the confrontation I've spent months avoiding.
But Kaelgor has information about Bloodfang movements. And he knows these territories better than any human scout.
Practical considerations outweigh political ones.
Usually.
Behind me, Kaelgor moves with the steady rhythm of someone accustomed to covering ground efficiently despite injury. His breathing stays even, his footfalls quiet. Professional competence wrapped in orc muscle and iron discipline.
He could have killed Thorne during the collapse. Would have been easy to let debris finish what interrogation started.
But he didn't.
Interesting choice.
The approach to our forward camp takes us through a series of defensive checkpoints hidden among natural rock formations. My men recognize me from a distance and wave us through without challenge, but I view the way their hands drift toward weapons when they see Kaelgor.
Smart. But unnecessary.
For now.
"Your defenses are adequate," he says quietly.
