“As far as we know, yes,” said Ertu. Then, curiously, he nudged his horse, walking it closer to hers, and he held her gaze as he went on in a quieter voice. “Some of our furred friends have been watching us for the past few days.”
Kaita almost looked over her shoulder, but she restrained herself at the last moment. She knew he meant the satyrs. “Have they caused trouble?”
“They have not. I think they want to know why the six of us have been left behind when all the rest of our force has ridden on.”
“They will find out soon,” said Kaita. “We are to ride west. I am going to Lan Shui—and so are the rest of you, but after a stop along the way. The satyr elders have not heard from us since Trisken’s fall. Father wishes for you to visit them and deliver his … displeasure.”
Ertu’s beard jumped as his lips twisted in disgust. “I have visited the satyrs once. I do not relish the idea of repeating the experience. They are foul-smelling creatures.”
“Father has—”
He shook his head to cut her off. “Sky above, Kaita, I have not refused your orders. I am only grousing. Father deserves our obedience, but you act as though we are supposed to be his unquestioning slaves.”
Kaita steeled herself. Even after so many years, she was unused to the way the Shades conducted themselves, the way they treated each other. But then, Kaita had been raised in far different circumstances.
“Of course not,” she said at last. “Forgive me. The changing … it tires me.”
“I imagine,” said Ertu graciously. “Fear not. You will be able to rest well, now—or at least, as well as one can when on the road. Let us set out, for the glory of our father.”
He turned in his saddle and motioned for the riders to set off. They went west at an easy walk, and Kaita fell into line with the rest of them, her thoughts uneasy.
“So she was following you,” said Sun.
“Leading us,” said Albern. “But you have the idea.”
“Why did she wait? I am certain the people of Northwood guarded against another attack, but you left Northwood. Did she not think to wait until you were sleeping, and creep into your camp, and kill you in the night?”
“I am certain she thought of it,” said Albern. “But we always set a watch. And I think she well remembered the injuries Mag had given her. But I could not tell you for certain. Many things I know about what Kaita thought in those days, but not everything.”
“And how do you know this, again?” said Sun.
Albern smiled at her. “That is another story entirely, and not one I intend to tell you tonight.”
“What about the two of you?” said Sun. “You knew you were after a weremage. Were you not frightened? I would suspect every shadow. Any beast could have been the weremage, or anyone you met on the road.”
“They could have been,” said Albern. “But remember that we thought we were chasing the weremage—we did not know her name, then—and that she was fleeing with the Shades across the kingdom. We did not know we were being led. Not until much later.”
Albern stared into his mug of beer for a long moment, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed. Sun studied him. The tale had thrilled her, she had to admit. When he had spoken of riding off from the Reeve, she had felt a sudden desire to rise to her feet and start a journey at once—though she knew not where. Yet the same words that had excited her were obviously disturbing to Albern. She waited in respectful silence, not wanting to agitate him further.
And then, all of a sudden, he drained the rest of his mug and rose to his feet. “Well, I have to be taking care of something.”
Sun drew back, blinking. But before she could answer, Albern took up his bow and climbed rapidly down from the rooftop. He reached the ground and passed around the corner of the tavern without so much as a backwards glance.
It was another long moment before Sun thought of standing up. She stood there, staring stupidly down at the empty alley behind the building, until she realized he was not coming back.
Not knowing what else to do, Sun clambered down after him and ran around to the front of the building. Albern stood by a horse that had been tethered to a pole. It was already saddled, and he was checking its straps.
Anxiously, Sun approached the old man from behind. “Albern?”
“Hm? Yes?” said Albern. He glanced back at her and gave a brief smile before raising one foot to the stirrup. With impressive grace considering his age and his single arm, he vaulted into the saddle and took up the reins.
“Where … where are you going?” said Sun. The question seemed too obvious to need to be put into words, but she felt as driftless as an unmoored ship.
“I have an errand to take care of,” said Albern, looking down at her. Then he seemed to notice her expression for the first time, and he smiled. “Forgive me for not mentioning it sooner, but I had rather hoped you would come with me.”
“But … but where?” said Sun.
“Oh, this errand is not too far away,” said Albern.
This errand? The wording was not lost on her. Nervously, Sun glanced both ways down the street. Two of her family’s guards were searching for her even now. She thought of her mother and father, of their caravan beyond the bounds of the town.
“But I need to be getting back soon,” whispered Sun. She had meant to say it aloud, to say it to Albern. But she spoke quietly, as if to herself, and Albern did not answer.
She did need to get back. Her family expected her. She was supposed to ride on
