Shadow's master

to be several thousand, at least. And she had what? Five hundred if she counted Therbold and Sarrow's militiamen?

“God's breath,” Brian whispered.

“Is there…?” She was afraid to ask. “Do we have any chance to win?”

She expected a bold statement of valor and bravado. Instead, Brian replied, “I must get to my unit.”

He leapt to his horse and galloped down the hill. Josey held the dagger to her chest as the horde drew nearer. She tried to imagine what it must be like for her soldiers, standing shoulder to shoulder, watching the inexorable advance of your enemy. Wondering if you were going to live to see tomorrow. Josey wished she could slow down time, or speed it up.

“War is mostly waiting, followed by moments of blind terror.”

She looked over her shoulder as Hirsch slid down from his little mare. “Is that supposed to be a warning, Master Hirsch? You should know by now that a few words aren't enough to frighten me away.”

The adept harrumphed. “Indeed I do, lass. Even when those words are true. What's that?”

Josey held up the dagger Brian had given to her. “It's nothing. Just a memento. For luck.”

The adept looked down over the crest of the hill. The enemy was closer, and with every step their numbers seemed to swell, like a black tide washing over the field.

“Gods protect us,” she whispered.

Hirsch nodded as he drew his hood down over his eyes. “Aye, lass. That about sums it up.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Remnants of a nightmare sifted through Caim's head as he awoke. He had been running across an endless field, with ferocious creatures snapping at his heels. Kit was there, too, running with him. Or maybe it had been Josey.

He started to get up, until a sharp twinge ripped across his lower back. Caim sighed and took it slow. He had no idea what time it was. Without sun or moon to guide him, the hours blurred together. The campfire had burned down to a nest of red cinders. Dray and Malig were both asleep. Caim wanted to kick them awake. He'd told them before he closed his eyes to each take a watch, and wake him for the third spot. Caim looked around for Egil, but then remembered the guide's fate. Was he still alive?

“You sleep uneasily.” Shikari sat with her legs folded. She had been quiet on the trail yesterday, hardly speaking to anyone, not even her guardian. Caim glanced over at Hoek, sprawled out across the hard ground behind her. They didn't act like lovers, but the giant never left her side. “A victim of restless dreams?”

Caim picked up a stick of firewood and fed it to the flames. “I could do with a comfortable bed in a warm inn, if that's what you mean.”

“I understand. But it's not the cold that bothers you, is it? What do you plan to do when you reach Erebus?”

Caim had considered that. At night, when he lay down to sleep and the darkness surrounded him, he imagined what he might find in the north and how he could hope to pick up a trail gone cold for almost two decades. “I won't know till I get there.”

“Your foe from the ruins will likely be there, too. Yes? And perhaps more like him. A great many enemies for three men to face alone.”

“Whatever point you're trying to make, just say it.”

“Only that we could be of assistance.”

“It's probably best if we drop you and your man off at the next spot of civilization.”

She favored him with a smile that showed off her perfect, small, white teeth. “This far north? You aren't likely to find any civilization. Not until you come to your destination. And I see the hunger in your eyes.”

Caim shifted his weight. This woman had bothered him since the day they'd met. For an escaped slave stranded in the wastes, she was strikingly confident. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“A power dwells inside you. It is in the way you move, the way you kill, in the violence of your sleep. I have seen it's like before. Some of the asherjhag are workers of miracles. When they call to the dark, the dark listens.”

Caim patted his back where his knives rested. “My only tricks are with these.”

“I think not.” She tilted her head. Her hair gleamed with a rich luster even in the gloam. “You feel the pull of unseen tides. If you listen hard enough, you will hear their whisper.”

Caim thought of the pulling. It was still there, tugging in the back of his head, so much a part of him now. North, it whispered to him. Always north. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“The power.” Shikari indicated the fire between them. “The priests say it is like this flame. It must be fed or it will starve. You've been feeling ill of late, yes? Weaker?”

Caim gritted his teeth so hard the muscles in his jaws threatened to pop. The woman's guesses hit too close to home. In his mind he saw himself hunched over her, his mouth pressed to her neck, sipping her blood….

Caim got to his feet. “Wake your friend. We leave as soon as we've eaten.”

His hands shook as he walked away, so hard he had to clench them into tight fists within his gloves. He wanted to gut someone and watch their life drain into the snow. Stop it! Forget her. She doesn't know anything about me. But as he gathered his gear and went to feed the horses, the woman's words followed him.

They broke their fast and got back on the trail. Caim went first, jolts of pain shooting through his lower back with every step of his horse. Without Egil, he wanted to keep an eye on the way ahead, and he wanted to stay clear of Shikari. He also avoided Malig and Dray, who had woken up in bad moods and looking like they hadn't slept much.

Time passed slowly as their pace ate up the miles. As he rode, Caim considered the wastes in all their vastness and imagined leaving the others behind. Not to be bothered by their talk and their suspicious looks. Where in the hells was Kit? Her disappearing act was wearing thin. The next time she turned up he would tell her not to bother. He didn't need her either. He didn't need anyone.

What's wrong with me?

Caim shook himself out of the melancholy. He missed Kit. He wanted her back. And the clansmen were his responsibility. As for the others, he wasn't sure yet. With a deep sigh, he let his gaze wander over a rise in the distance, a low hill perhaps. There was another to the east of it, and grim black humps along the horizon that hinted at more beyond. He was tracing a route toward them when he saw the pile of stones.

Malig cursed out loud when they got close enough for the lantern to shine on the altar. It was much like the one they had seen before, a stack of flat rocks set on top of each other, but this fane had been used recently. The trophies stuck on spears around the site weren't moldy skulls, but full heads with flesh still attached, although their eyeballs were gone. At least one had belonged to a woman. Caim would have expected carrion birds nearby, and swarms of flies, but there were none. Then a shadow oozed from an eye socket and down the face of one of the heads. All of a sudden he felt exposed, like there were a thousand invisible eyes watching him.

“A sad but common sight in the wastes,” Shikari said. “The tribes believe that the corpses of their enemies are pleasing to their gods, and so they display them at shrines like this. These poor souls were likely captured alive, tortured over the course of several days, and then finally beheaded in the culmination of a ritual that includes the consuming of flesh and-”

“Why don't you shut the fuck up!” Dray shouted at her.

Hoek swiveled like a weathervane and stalked in Dray's direction. There was no malice on the big man's face, but his huge hands were closed into fists. Caim reached for his seax knife, but Shikari shouted before he could draw it. “Halt!”

Hoek stopped, but continued to stare at Dray with a blank gaze. Dray lifted his spear, but Caim spurred his horse between them. “Dray, go take the lead.”

With a dark look at Hoek, Dray put heels to horseflesh and galloped ahead. Hoek returned to Shikari's side, standing with his arms at his sides like nothing had happened. She, however, glared at Dray's departing back.