“That’s Diato’s,” she whispered.
“Who is Diato?” Keegan stepped forward and took the dagger from Mikel, turning it in his hand as he examined it.
“He is…the captain of the King’s Guards.” Her voice trembled.
Ronan’s eyes narrowed.
“Then he does not work for the dark forces,” Ula breathed but Fiona shook her head.
“I have never thought so but…well, he’s always been so mysterious and he never lets you really get to know him.” She chewed on her lip thoughtfully. “In fact, he can be quite distant at times.”
“You seem to know him well,” Ronan observed.
Fiona nodded. “As well as anyone can know him but that’s just it. I knew what he allowed me to know. Never any more than that.” Fiona’s hands were shaking. “It would not be a stretch in his character to be of the dark forces. He has been Captain of the Guards only two years. That’s just enough to infiltrate Merisgale and become a trusted leader when the new King was named.” Her eyes lifted to Ronan.
“And if he is close to Thestian…and Thestian knows of what has transpired between you and I…” She was visibly shaking. “Ronan, he will kill you.”
“But you can’t be sure he’s not just a jealous lover?” Ula asked as Mikel held out his hand for Keegan to return the dagger to him. The horseman dropped it in the changeling’s little hand.
“I can’t be sure he’s not anything,” Fiona answered.
Ronan couldn’t explain the sudden charge of emotion that coursed through him.
“About how far behind you do you think he is?”
“No more than a day. I hurried back this way as fast as I could. I didn’t stop even when I saw a nice pretty for me,” Mikel promised.
Ronan let his hands slide from the changeling’s shoulders.
“We could go back to Jobi,” Fiona suggested. “They would hide us.”
“And endanger themselves,” Ronan added in a soft voice. “Keegan, is there another way to Merisgale than this road?”
“Yes, but you don’t want to travel that way,” Keegan answered.
“Which way is that?”
It was Mikel who answered in a soft whisper. “Johran.”
“Johran.” Keegan echoed. “The route will take us through the Codadeum swamps and then on to the hills of Johran. From there we would cross the moors so we could enter the south entrance of Merisgale.”
“It would cost us another week,” Fiona warned.
“And maybe our lives,” Mikel added. The people of Johran are not a gentle bunch.”
“What does he mean?” Ronan looked at Keegan.
“They are cannibals.”
Ronan made a face. “Aggressive?”
“Very.” Keegan nodded.
“Is there no other way?” Ronan didn’t like the options he was being given.
“Not unless you can summon a dragon to carry us by air.” Keegan shook his head.
Fat chance in that, Ronan thought. There was only a dozen or so left in existence. He looked to Ula but she held up her hands.
“At most I could carry two and only a mile or so.” She told him and Ronan shouted with frustration. He ran a hand over his face. How much more difficult could this get?
“What does that mean?” Ronan looked at Arien’s horse as he spoke.
“That sounds as if there might be a catch,” Ronan murmured and waited while the others watched him in silence.
Ronan sighed. The horse was right. At least it was something he could place hope on. Slowly, the blacksmith nodded then looked up at the others who waited for him to announce what choice he’d made for them.
“We go to Johran.” He could see the trepidation flicker in their eyes but they all nodded in agreement. “We leave now.”
“You aren’t going to leave me here are you?” Mikel asked as they began readying the horses for riding.
“No. You can ride with me for as far as you would like to go,” Ronan told the changeling and smiled when Mikel breathed out with relief.
Moments later they set out and they didn’t reach the edge of the Codadeum Swamps until right before dark. “It’s too dangerous to cross at night. If we stop now and ride through in the morning we will reach the dry island in the middle by tomorrow night.”
“At first light then.” Ronan nodded, gaze sweeping the area for a dry place to sleep. The trees were different than the ones they had slept among before. They were gnarled and twisted, their roots splaying in every direction across the ground.
“We will have to sleep in the trees,” Keegan said as if he could read Ronan’s thoughts. “The ground is too wet. And it is likely that one or two of us could become stuck.”
“Would you not just pull them out?” Ronan chuckled.
“I would have no chance before the harpies swooped down to sup.” Keegan’s face remained serious when Ronan’s eyes widened. Keegan nodded across the horizon toward the cliffs that overlooked the swamp. Against the stretching shadows, Ronan could make out the faint outlines of several creatures. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. The half beasts were watching them.
“Waiting like vultures to see which one of us gets sucked into the mud first,” Keegan said with a scowl.
“The trees it is then.” Ronan shifted his attention back to the twisted growth. They could make hammocks out of some of the vines and some of the branches were large enough to lie upon. He just prayed no one rolled off into the mud in the middle of the night.
The horses took to the boulders, clambering atop the rocks so they would be safe from the mud. Huddled together, the Dulcets lowered their heads. They were not whispering grass, Ronan decided. They were just whispering.
Ronan found a good place that was big enough for him, climbed up and settled, resting his back against the trunk. The bark was smooth enough but the way the tree bent and turned made it impossible for him to get comfortable. Using his magic, he willed some of the vines to weave along each side of the limb until he was certain he had enough that he not could roll off.
“Maybe you could help the rest of us out too?” Ula called from the ground.
He peered over the vines to find them all standing there watching him. He glanced around and then did the same for them at four other limbs. He would have created the same kind of bedding for Fiona if she hadn’t already settled on a lower limb, close to his, arms and legs becoming snake-like so they could coil around the branches.
“Diato was the man Smellir spoke of?” Ronan asked her as the others started climbing to their raised beds.
“Yes,” Fiona answered.
Ronan dug for no more information. He needed no more. Something screeched in the distance causing him to sit up.
“Harpies,” Keegan called to him. “They probably don’t like the way you’ve fashioned our campsite. No meals for them tonight.”
Ronan eased back against the tree trunk. He doubted he would get much sleep that night. But Ronan did fall asleep, only for a short time, until the sound of horses awoke him. He sat up but a slender hand slipped over his mouth. In the moonlight, he found Fiona’s face. She lifted a finger to her lips then pointed below them. Ronan leaned slightly so he could see over the veil of vines.
Twelve shadowed riders halted at the edge of the swamp. The one that led them stared out at the blanketed
