Sábria nodded. “Let’s get started then.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Ailith moved through the leaves one slow step at a time, careful not to tread on any signs someone had passed that way. Unfortunately, this was where the Hunter’s trail ended, and the woman had begun to move like the stealthy predator she was. Ailith was a good enough tracker, though, that she was confident if she looked hard enough, she’d find some sign to indicate which way the Hunter had gone.

  Now that she wasn’t running full out, her mind slowed, and she realized she’d be in major trouble when she returned to the Temple. Except Sábria had told the Hunter to remain with her, and Ailith thought it had been her duty to follow and report back to Jenx or Prime Geller where she’d gone to ground.

  She slowly walked from tree to tree, finally spotting what she was looking for. One small square of bark lay on the ground next to a tree’s broad trunk. Her gaze traveled upward until she spotted a lighter patch showing through the dark bark where the Hunter’s boot had dislodged a loose piece on her way up the trunk. Ailith searched the canopy, not wanting to be ambushed by someone who could very easily wait among the leaves and shove her from the branch and send her tumbling to the forest floor below.

  As she climbed, she thought about the tales she’d heard about that segment of the Blade community. Every shiv knew that if they ever decided to run, it was the Hunters who’d track them down and haul them back to the Temple in disgrace. She didn’t think Hunters would ever intentionally harm their prey, but this Hunter had brought a shiv wrapped in canvas and strapped belly first across her mule.

  Ailith had been there when one of the Blades had chided the Hunter, asking whether she knew she was supposed to bring people back alive. There’d been real anger in the woman’s words, and while Ailith understood that Hunters were Blades, she’d also heard the Hunter tell Lady Sábria they weren’t. It was all very confusing, and she realized if she didn’t keep her mind on the hunt rather than on the idea of Blade versus Hunter, she’d be in trouble.

  She found where the Hunter had moved to the end of a branch and even saw the scuff mark where the woman had pushed off to leap into the next canopy. Once again, Ailith gauged the distance to an overhanging branch and jumped, catching it and swinging herself forward so that her feet came to rest on a second branch close to the broad trunk of the neighboring tree. All of the birds were silent, which was to be expected, with the two of them moving through the canopy. As she followed the elevated trail, she was startled by a chattering squirrel that poked his head out of a hole and berated her for coming so near his nest. She whispered, “Don’t be such a grump. I’m just lookin’ fer a trail. I’ll be gone right quick.”

  The clues disappeared, and she methodically made her way forward, searching the bark, the trunks, and the leaves for even a hint of a sign she could follow. Eventually, her gaze traveled down to the forest floor. They’d been paralleling a stream, and while she didn’t see anything obvious for quite a while, she finally found what she was looking for. One stone had been tipped so that it sat partially in and partially out of the mud. There was a deepened groove in the mud beneath the end tilted skyward where the rock had been resting before a boot had pushed down on the opposite edge. The indentation, which was slowly filling with water and mud, would be gone in a few moments, telling her she wasn’t very far behind the Hunter.

  Without hesitation, she leapt from her branch, grabbed hold of a lower one, and swung her legs forward, giving her enough momentum to swing to a second lower branch further down as she fell through the canopy. She did that twice more before she finally landed squarely on her feet in the dense leaves.

  Keeping an eye on the place where she’d seen the rock, she crept forward until she was right on it. The rock canted more to the right than to the left, meaning the Hunter was moving upstream instead of down. She pivoted, careful not to disturb any more stones, and began moving in that direction.

  They’d been playing this game of cat and mouse for over a candlemark when the trail finally ran out. Ailith scoured the area around her, searching for the telltale signs she knew had to be there. Refusing to admit defeat, she got down on her hands and knees and carefully scoured the leaves, looking for anything—a broken branch or stem or even a crumpled leaf she may have missed. When she found what might have been a slight scuff mark on the end of a leaf, she put her temple to the ground to look at it from a different angle. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw a pair of highly polished black knee-high boots standing behind and to her left.

  Scrambling back far enough to pull her sword, she overbalanced and fell backward into a moss-covered root. Her gaze traveled up the black trews to where the Hunter had her fists planted firmly on her hips. Using her strong legs, Ailith jumped to her feet and stood in a guard position—both hands on the hilt with the tip of the sword pointing directly at the Blade.

  The only movement the Hunter made was a slight tilt of her head. “Well, I’m glad to see you at least have good defensive reactions. Situational awareness, though, needs a lot of work because I could’ve chopped your head off while your nose was down in the leaves.”

  Ailith relaxed a bit and stood from her crouch. The Hunter was absolutely right, and she shrugged sheepishly, “Aye, me handler’s always tellin’ me I get too focused on things. She says it’ll get me killed someday if I don’t break th’ habit. But, fowk, I tracked ya this far, and then I lost yer fowkin’ trail.”

  “I know, I’ve been watching you.” She smiled sardonically. “I even left you a few hints when I knew there were none to be had.”

  “Th’ fowk ya did. I tracked ya fair and square.” Ailith jammed her short sword back into her scabbard and rammed it home with a clack. Her anger spiked when she looked up and saw the amusement in those expressive grey eyes. She stepped forward and poked the woman in the chest with a stiff finger. “I been trackin’ ya since th’ fowkin’ Temple. Me and Jenx was out patrolling th’ grounds lookin’ fer more of yer friends, and we saw ya sneakin’ off, so I followed. I’d of found yer trail with or without yer help.”

  The Hunter’s voice was soft yet firm. “No. You wouldn’t have. But you’re good, I’ll give you that. There’s a lot I could teach you once you become a full Blade. You’ve got the instincts, that’s for sure, more so than many of the Hunters I’ve trained over the turns. But you need to stay alive long enough to become a Blade, Lass, and you won’t be doing that by forgetting that there are people out there who want to kill you.”

  Ailith’s eyes narrowed as she studied this woman, wondering if she was talking about herself. “If ya wanted to kill me, ya would have.”

  The Hunter reared back, and her eyes rounded in surprise. “If I wanted to kill you? The whole reason I circled back around was to protect you, Shiv. Did you even notice we passed two camps on the way here, one of which I’m pretty sure was full of bandits if the body odor was any indication.”

  “Aye, well, I smelled th’ smoke from one of th’ fires and heard a quiet cough that had to of come from a human. I also saw th’ bear and her cub and got yelled at by that fowkin’ fur tail.”

  “Yes, I saw that. When you’re hunting, you can’t afford to startle a squirrel into chattering like that. You have to know where all the animals are, not just the predators. A chattering squirrel can give away your position to your enemies and get you killed as easily as that mama bear.” She leaned forward with her fists still resting on her hips. “Do you understand me, Shiv?”

  Ailith did. Ashamed a Hunter had a reason to chastise her, she looked down at the ground, only to remember at the last moment Jenx’s barked words, “Eyes.” She jerked her eyes up too late and felt the Hunter’s hard knuckles rap her on the side of the head.

  “And just what do you think you’ll see looking down at those feet of yours?”

  Ailith stared into those intense grey eyes and sighed. She rubbed the side of her head, knowing she had several bad habits she needed to break. “Aye, me handler’s always telling me th’ same. ‘Eyes up, Ailith.’ She says. “Ya can’t see danger comin’ if yer lookin’ at yer feet, Ailith.” Heat rushed into her cheeks because, if the truth be told, she was impressed with this woman’s abilities and would have liked to impress her, if only just a bit.

  Not only that, the Hunter had a solid, muscular body, and the thick and varied calluses on her hands were telling. She was a warrior through and through. She was competent and confident and everything Ailith wanted to be when she became a full Blade. To make so many obvious mistakes in front of her was humiliating.

  Xyda watched the red infusing Ailith’s cheeks. She softened her eyes and, to Ailith's shock, placed a gentle hand on her cheek. “What’s your name, Lass?”

  Ailith straightened and gave her full title because she didn’t want the Hunter thinking less of her because she didn’t have two names the way most Blades did. “I’m Shiv Ailith, Milady.”

  That brought a twinkle to Xyda’s eyes. “Well, Shiv Ailith, I’m no lady. I was born into a peasant family. I’m not ashamed of it, and you shouldn’t be either.”

  Ailith reared back. “Ya weren’t. Ya squawk like a noble.”

  “Ya wouldn’t ‘a thunk I were a noble if’n ya’d a heard me squawkin’ afore I were a Blade, now, would ya?” Her mouth widened into a charming, mischievous grin when Ailith’s jaw dropped open. “Well, that and my wife is always correcting my manner of speech when I slide into old habits.” Xyda ruffled Ailith’s hair. “Now, Youngling. Do you know how to fish?”

  “Oh, aye. ‘Specially in th’ streams. Don’t need no line, ya ken?”

  “Aye, I ken. I figured no self-respecting Dreyuthan mountain peasant wouldn’t know how to catch a fish bare-handed, or at least with a quick knife. You go get us some food, and I’ll set camp and start a fire. If everything I’ve heard about our Arch priestess is true, then she’s already on our trail and I’m willing to bet your Commander will be finding all of the clues I left along the way.” She shook her finger playfully in Ailith’s face. “And I’m hoping that all of that sloppy tracking you did was intentional?”

  Ailith lifted a shoulder and gave the Hunter a slight grin. “Aye, I needed ‘em to ken where we was movin’ through th’ trees and no have to take th’ time to hunt fer th’ signs. Th’ Commander’s good, and she’d a found us, but….” She shrugged again and turned toward the stream. A few steps later saw her turning back to the Hunter, who was already gathering sticks for kindling. “I’ll be chuffed t’ honor ya by callin’ ya Hunter, but since we’ll be sharin’ a fire and a meal, do ya think ya’d be willin’ to give me yer name?”

  Xyda had just knelt to add a stick to the pile she carried in her arms. She paused and looked over her shoulder at the young shiv. She’d always liked being around the younger Blades and actually found herself hoping that maybe the Arch Priestess could heal the rift that had so torn the Hunters away from the Blades. She missed spending time in the Temples, chatting around dinner tables or sitting beneath the stars and gossiping about friends she’d seen around the Empire. What she missed the most, though, was teaching the young shivs how to survive in their brutal world.

  Finding that young woman lying broken at the bottom of the cliff had nearly done her in. And now, she wondered if maybe Elyon had brought this youngster and the Lady Sábria into her life to heal that broken heart. “My name’s difficult for non-Olarnians to pronounce. In my tongue, I’m Cethéreno. But here in Cibía, most people,” she glanced up and held Ailith’s gaze, “my friends, call me Xyda.”

  Ailith nodded. She was suddenly too shy to ask outright whether the woman considered her a friend. “Should I try to pronounce what ya said, in th’ Olarnan, I mean?”

  The Hunter chuckled. “Call me Xyda, Ailith, or we’ll be here all day untying your tongue.”

  Xyda’s voice was throaty and melodic, and Ailith felt she was blushing more around her than she’d done since arriving in Cibía. It was a good thing Xyda had a wife, or Ailith thought she might just develop a crush on her. “Aye, that’s probably fer th’ best, especially if ya want to eat sometime today.” She returned to the stream to catch some of the large trout she’d seen from up in the trees. Ailith never noticed the passage of time when she was squatted with her rear barely above the water, waiting for a fish to swim within reach. It wasn’t until the wind shifted and blew a few strands of hair into her eyes that she stretched shoulders aching from forced immobility.

  The soft breeze, which had been blowing in a northwesterly direction, shifted again, bringing an unwanted whisper as it drifted slowly past. Ailith’s head shot up, and she looked behind her to see if Xyda had picked up on the sound. Xyda had gone perfectly still, eyes closed and listening.

  When the Hunter straightened from where she’d been crouching near the sticks that she’d been arranging for a cookfire, Ailith got to her feet, watching as the Hunter concentrated on the wind.

  Ailith listened as well, but as she watched Xyda, she could tell the Hunter was using all five senses. Her nostrils flared as she scented the wind, and her head tilted slightly as she waited for the sound to come again. To Ailith’s surprise, those rounded lips parted too, as though she were tasting the air as well as smelling it.

  When those deep-set eyes opened, Ailith was close enough to see they’d changed from their usual smokey color to the determined shine of freshly sharpened steel. The Hunter studied the leaves, watching intently as they danced in the soft, fluttering wind. Taking one slow step at a time, Ailith moved closer, hoping the sound would come again. The changes in the Hunter fascinated her. She’d gone from a genial companion to a lion unmistakably focused on her prey.

  Xyda put her hand into a cluster of leaves and allowed them to tap softly against her fingers. There was no rhyme nor reason for the gesture, but it was abundantly clear when she caught the scent. She took off at a jog, moving through the trees with the grace of the lioness she resembled.

  Ailith was right on her tail, mimicking her moves and trying to figure out the reason behind each shift and turn. Even though Xyda’s path was upwind, she tracked subtly left. Try as she might, Ailith couldn’t figure out what drew the Hunter in that direction. Xyda picked up her pace and only broke into a run when the sound came again.

  Ailith heard the sound more clearly this time. A woman’s far-off scream raced along the wind, and the two women ran toward it, dodging trees, leaping over falling branches, and scaling a patch of boulders lying in their way.

  The cries grew louder as they drew near, but they weren’t the panicked cries of someone who’d given up all hope. Though Ailith couldn’t yet make out the words, the tone behind them was angry, tinged with only a bit of fear. She didn’t draw her sword until Xyda did, and just as the tip cleared her scabbard, Ailith began to recognize the words.

  They weren’t what she’d expected, though. Instead of the now familiar Cibían she used on a daily basis, they were the Dreyuthan dialect of her homeland. A flood of adrenalin surged through her as she recognized the voice as that of Sábria’s daughter, Ty. With a burst of speed, she nearly passed the Hunter, who pulled up and grabbed the back of Ailith’s tunic.

  Ailith tried to jerk free, but Xyda grabbed her around the throat and slammed her up against a tree. She hissed in Ailith’s ear so the sound of her voice wouldn’t give their position away. “Use your head, Lass. Hasn’t your handler taught you anything? Listen to me. From here on out, until we return to the Temple or Sábria or her trackers find us, I’m your handler. You’ll do as I say, or you’ll cost that lass her life and possibly mine and yours as well.”

  That brought Ailith up short, and she hissed back. “That’s Ty. Some fowker’s hurtin’ Lady Sábria’s daughter.”

  Xyda’s eyes narrowed, and she moved back so Ailith could see her face, “That may be, but you’ll do as I say. Do I have your word on that, or do I need to tie you to this tree?” Her eyes were fierce, conveying no doubt that Ailith needed to do exactly as she said, or she’d find herself bound hand and foot to the tree’s trunk.

  Ailith pulled in a deep breath. She knew the Hunter was right, and she steadied herself before answering. “Aye, Hunter. I swear I’ll do exactly as ya say.”

  Xyda released her grip on Ailith’s tunic and whispered into her ear. “You circle around to the other side, but you do nothing until you see me moving in for the attack. You understand?” When Ailith nodded, Xyda took off again at the run. She glanced back once and was satisfied to see Ailith circling around to the left to come in from the other side. “That’s the Lass. Do as you’re told, and we all might make it out of this alive.

  As she moved closer to where she believed the cries had originated, several male voices were added to the mix. Laughter was carried on the breeze, and a deep baritone accompanied it. “Don’t fight us, you whoring slut. You’ll be dead before night comes, but we’re going to have our fun before that. You might as well enjoy it since it’s the last prick you’ll enjoy in this lifetime.”

  Xyda’s steps slowed and eventually stopped. She pulled in a breath, tasting the air around her. The scent of the smoke was more pungent now. She’d been hunting long enough to know how far she was from the fire by the strength of the smoke drifting on the breeze.

  Sensing they were close, she climbed the nearest tree, silently moving through the canopy until she was able to get a look at what she was facing. Two larger tents of the kind typically used by the nobility were positioned upwind from the fire. Alongside those, two smaller two-man tents used by servants and guards stood sentinel on either side of the larger ones.

  A fire burned in a pit several paces away, and in front of that, five men surrounded a well-built, blonde-haired woman. Even if Ailith hadn’t told her this was Sábria’s daughter, Xyda wouldn’t have had an ounce of doubt about exactly who the young woman was. She was the spitting image of her mother. Her height, weight, hair color, and facial features were nearly identical to the Arch Priestess. Because of the similarities, Xyda wasn’t surprised to see that despite the ropes binding her wrists behind her back and the connecting one circling her throat, the younger woman was spitting mad.