Ember sat cross-legged on the ground, watching intently as Sydney took off her pack and brought out a canteen and a ration bag. She shared both, and Ember took only as much as Sydney did, watching carefully as if fearful of making a mistake.

  Sydney had to smile. “We’re going to need to find more food and water. We can’t make it all the way to your mountain on what I’ve brought.”

  Ember rubbed her ear again. “I didn’t think about supplies. I’m sorry.” She ducked her head as if heartbroken.

  Sydney nearly choked on her water. “Hey, it’s all right. It’s your first time out in the world, and you managed to bring a weapon and your trousers. I’m impressed.”

  Ember smiled, then her eyes widened. “Do people often forget those on their first time out in the world? I could see forgetting a weapon, maybe, though I always wear mine in case I want to spar with the husks, but I’d get cold immediately if I wasn’t wearing trousers outside, and if I was walking out instead of using a spell, I’d go back for my trousers right away.”

  Sydney let the talk wash over her. She’d already deduced that these “husks” were some kind of servants for the Hawk, though she’d never heard of anyone called the husks. She bet they got tired of having to practice weapon-craft on command. Maybe they were people born to the sword, always ready to fight. They’d be a handy ally against the Kells.

  Sydney looked to the north again and wondered where the Kells were now. Probably somewhere in the green blob of a forest. She should have paid more attention to maps. The blob and the fat lot of nothing had names, as did the mountain, but dashed if she knew them. She didn’t even know how big the blob was. It could conceal a host of enemies.

  When she saw the flash of color among the heather clumps, she blinked, thinking she’d imagined something moving after wishing for it for so long. It came again, closer, a hint of green that quickly vanished as if someone was trying to stay hidden, but the color of their clothing stood out among the purple and brown.

  Sydney stood, peering to get a better look. Ember was at her side in an instant. “That bush just moved. An animal?” Ember asked.

  “The only animals I know that come in green are lizards, and I don’t think there are any lizards out here,” Sydney said.

  “Special lizards,” Ember said, awed.

  Sydney frowned. “Or someone wearing green who is trying to stay out of sight.”

  If anything, Ember seemed even more excited. “Kells?”

  Sydney’s heart dropped, but she told herself not to be afraid of stories. The Kells might be fierce warriors, but they were human. They could die.

  She stepped on the hummock and caught five separate disturbances, that same flash of green moving through the coarse terrain. They must be belly-crawling, though they were fast for that. “Fight or flee?” She knew which one she’d choose. Captives or corpses could give her information about where they were. But she wanted to give Ember the chance to—

  “Fight.” Ember drew her short sword and stood in a ready stance. “They’ll run when they see how good we are.”

  Sydney didn’t know about that, but she drew her own sword. “Come out,” she called. “Speak if you’re a friend. If not, stand away or prepare to defend yourselves.”

  The rustling stopped, and Sydney waited for a word, a rush, or a retreat. When a cloaked figure leaped up as if from the ground itself, she realized they hadn’t been crawling but using the ditches to move.

  Golden skin glowed from within the depths of the hood. The figure only stood as high as her shoulder, but it thrust with a short, thin blade, and she batted it away by instinct alone.

  Sydney cried, “They’re fast,” hoping Ember took heed. She met the next thrust with a push so she could work her way closer to Ember.

  Two opponents had already found her. Sydney fought the urge to gawk as Ember moved as if she was a reed, bending backward to let a swing go over her body, all while blocking the attack of her second opponent. She jerked to the side and straightened quickly enough to launch a counterattack.

  By then, Sydney’s attacker made another lunge, and another emerged from a ditch to join him. As fast as they were, excitement boiled through Sydney, and she channeled her bloodlust and fear, focusing it until heartfire coiled within her and her left hand was sheathed in blue-white flame.

  Her two opponents took a step back, and Sydney heard a shriek from behind her. It didn’t sound like Ember’s voice, but Sydney maneuvered around anyway, trying to keep all the attackers in sight so no one could stab her in the back. She caught a glimpse of Ember still up and fighting while one of her attackers was on the ground; a fifth had replaced him.

  One of Sydney’s opponents darted in, wearing the same sort of cloak as the first. She parried his lunge, knocking his blade far to the side, then stepped forward, swinging her hand as if she held another weapon therein. She slapped the attacker’s shoulder, and the heartfire leaped to him as if she’d touched a torch to burning pitch. He leaped back and rolled as the fire raced across his clothing.

  The other attacker came on, and she thrust her hips back to avoid the lunge, but the blade grated along the armor of her midsection, cutting through her flame-emblazoned tabard and screeching across the chain mail beneath. She felt the sting but couldn’t stop to see if the blade had penetrated her armor. She swiped for the hood with her left hand, but the attacker ducked and darted away.

  Sydney followed hard with her own series of thrusts, backing the attacker toward the ditch he’d sprung from. When he hit the edge and stumbled, she came in fast, darting under his flailing blade and impaling him in the gut. She put her shoulder behind the thrust, knocking him into the ditch before yanking her blade free.

  She turned to see Ember kicking one of her opponents while skewering the second. Before the first could recover from her kick, she launched another attack and nearly lopped his head off. Sydney gaped. Whoever these husks were that she’d sparred with, they had to be very skilled. She clenched her fist, refocused her energy, and the heartfire winked out.

  The opponent Sydney had burned was moaning in the grass, smoking and blackened. The others were unmoving. “Are you all right?” Sydney asked Ember.

  She nodded, and Sydney was relieved to see she was breathing hard, at least. She wasn’t completely inhuman.

  Ember pointed to Sydney’s ripped tabard. “You?”

  Sydney parted the material to look. A few dented rings, but the mail was intact. She shook her head. “A graze. Let’s see what we have here.” She kneeled beside the burnt one and pulled his hood back.

  She peered closely at the blackened face. His skin was golden like she’d thought, creased in pain as his breath rattled. Fine lines ran across his face as if someone had tattooed every inch of him with a pattern of scales.

  “No, they are scales,” Sydney muttered. His features were blunted, his lips so thin as to be almost nonexistent, and his nose barely rose from his face, the nostrils small and teardrop shaped. She didn’t know whether he actually had no hair or eyebrows or if the heartfire had burned them away.

  His eyes flickered open as she studied him, and she was surprised by how normal they seemed, a rich brown with a hint of gold at the edge of the iris. A capillary had burst in one, flooding the white with red.

  Even though he’d attacked her, and his strikes would have meant death, Sydney lifted his head carefully, not wanting to cause undue pain. “Who are you?” she asked softly.

  His eyes locked on hers, but he only breathed and winced.

  “Why did you attack us?” she tried. She fought the urge to mourn for this poor, misshapen creature. “We wouldn’t have harmed you. We were only passing through.”

  Ember laid a hand on her arm. “He might not understand you. He doesn’t look human.”

  Sydney glared at her. “Of course he’s—” She’d been about to say that he must be human. He was just…disfigured. Then she realized who…what…she was speaking to. “Do you know…” She didn’t know what to say. Asking if Ember knew any other non-human sentients seemed ridiculous, especially given that she’d never left her home before. “In your studies, did you ever read about someone like them?”

  Ember kneeled, her own face pinched. “No. They have skin like a lizard’s, but I don’t remember any magic creatures who looked like lizards.” She shrugged. “Except for dragons, but they were much bigger, with four legs and wings and snouts and long tails.”

  Sydney sighed before she could continue, not wanting to get drawn into a discussion of dragon characteristics. “Who are you?” she tried again softly. “Do you have people nearby? We’ll stay away from them. We didn’t mean to cross into your territory.”

  He smiled at that, showing bloody teeth that were sharper than a human’s. “All,” he said, nearly a whisper.

  Sydney leaned in close. “All? All what?”

  His eyes slipped closed. “All ours…” With a last rattle of breath, he stilled.

  Sydney laid him down and stood, pondering his words. “All ours?” Did he mean the territory? Everything around them belonged to these creatures, at least in their minds? There couldn’t be many of them, or she’d have heard of them, surely. All of Kingston would have been interested in a large group of lizard people claiming the border. “They can’t have been here long.”

  “They made us kill them,” Ember said, still kneeling. “I never killed anything that can talk before.” She looked at Sydney with tears in her eyes. “I tried to wound them, to show them I was better, but they kept coming, and they made me kill them.”

  Without thinking, Sydney drew Ember up and in, still rattled by the deaths herself. Ember’s arms went about her without hesitation, and her face turned into Sydney’s shoulder. Her hair smelled of sage.

  “Will there be more?” Ember asked, her voice muffled and heavy with sniffles.

  “I don’t know,” Sydney said, rubbing her back. “I’m sorry I don’t have any answers. Maybe if we hurry, we won’t meet any more.”

  Ember leaned back, nodding and rubbing her nose. She wiped Sydney’s shoulder. “I got some tears and snot on you. I’m sorry.”

  Sydney barked a laugh. “This tabard’s done for anyway.”

  “Thank you for holding me,” Ember said, her head cocked. “Your body feels very nice.”

  “Um, thanks.” Sydney fought the urge to be shocked. Ember had said it so casually, but her words forced Sydney to think of the way Ember had felt against her, in spite of the fact that Ember wasn’t human. They’d fit together well, Ember’s breasts pressing in just under Sydney’s own. Her sage-scented hair brushed warmly against Sydney’s cheek, and the strength in her arms was a comfort.

  Ember cocked her head, smiling as if she could read Sydney’s mind, but for once, she said nothing.

  As they began walking again, Sydney realized it wouldn’t be long until sunset. She’d hoped they’d find a village or farm for the night. Since there were lizard people here, this part of the world clearly wasn’t as abandoned as those in Kingston seemed to think it was. Four stout walls were infinitely preferable to a night under the stars.

  But as dusk crept on, and Sydney only saw more nothing, she chalked it up to just the sort of luck she’d had since this whole adventure started.

  “Looks like camping is our only option.” Sydney swallowed hard. Walking all day and worrying about what had happened to Camille and the knights had exhausted her. But she still had enough energy to hone in on the fact that they only had one tent and one blanket.

  Ember brightened. After the lizard people, she hadn’t said much as they’d hurried away from their small battleground, and now, as Sydney set up the tent, Ember rambled on with questions about camping and requests for more stories.

  As she pulled out rations for their evening meal, Sydney relayed a few tales, finding Ember very easy to talk to. “Every camping trip I’ve been on involved military maneuvers, and nothing very interesting happened. Animals tend to stay away from large groups of people, and no outlaws or brigands were stupid enough to raid an armed camp.”

  “Brigands and outlaws,” Ember said. “Are those like pirates?”

  “I guess so, but pirates are on the sea. Read about them, have you?”

  “Some, but I also talked to the ones Rowena rescued.”

  Sydney’s belly went cold. She kept forgetting that Ember was connected to the Hawk, the witch Sydney had been hunting for over a year, the witch who’d stolen a group of pirates from under Sydney’s nose and made a fool out of her.

  Ignoring whatever Ember said next, she dug in her pack. “If we don’t find a settlement tomorrow, we’ll need to do some hunting.” The realization made her even angrier. She didn’t have a bow and arrow or a spear; even if she did, she’d never been a hunter. When she was little, her family had grown or raised their own food on the farm, and once she’d joined the knights, she’d had foragers to hunt for her if the need arose.

  “I know how to do that,” Ember said excitedly. “I was always catching things on the mountain when Rowena let me go outside, mostly on the higher peaks, but maybe there are animals living out here like those living up there, and I can trap them or catch them pretty easily.”

  Sydney didn’t respond. Hunting experience was one point in their favor, at least.

  “You’re scowling,” Ember said. “Did I say something wrong? Do you not want to eat the animals?”

  “It’s fine, you’re fine.” Sydney sighed. “I was just…thinking about…everything we still have to do, the people we have to find.” She took several deep breaths and tried to let the anger go. It wouldn’t help a dashed thing at the moment. “I hope Camille and the others are okay.”

  Ember opened her mouth, then shut it as if she feared that what she had to say was wrong. Sydney didn’t know what that was, but she supposed she should be grateful that the Hawk taught Ember some tact. With all the things she’d blurted out so far, the words she held back might be heinous indeed.

  “The sun will wake us up early,” Sydney said. “We should get to bed.”

  “Do you cuddle on your right or your left?” Ember said.

  Sydney whirled around, but the light had faded so much, she could barely see where Ember sat. The air wasn’t more than chilly, so they’d decided not to risk a fire. “What?”

  “Rowena likes to sleep on her right side, so if we cuddle together, I’m behind her on my right, too, but I can sleep on either side, so we can fit together and be warmer.”

  “You…you and the Hawk…sleep together?”

  “Sometimes. We did a lot when I was newly made because I would get so cold. Then I’d sleep in front of her, and she’d put her arms around me.”

  “Oh.” Sydney’s mouth went dry. “Did you…” She shook her head and went back to arranging the blanket inside the small tent. “It’s none of my business.”

  “Were you going to ask if we have sex?” Ember’s voice said from right behind her.

  Sydney jumped, nearly knocking the tent over. “No, I mean…” Her heart sped up. Now that she knew how close Ember was, she could feel her heat. “Like I said, it’s none of my business.”

  “Why? I said you could ask me anything. We haven’t had sex. It never felt right since we’re like the same person. At least in some ways; I always know what she’s feeling when I’m close to her. I have had sex with some of the people who’ve visited, though. Some were better at it than others.”

  “Okay,” Sydney called as she climbed in the tent. “That’s all right. I don’t need stories, thank you.”

  The blankets rustled as Ember crawled in beside her. As Sydney removed her chain shirt, she imagined Ember’s cocked head and wondering expression.

  “If you don’t want to hear stories,” Ember said slowly, “then I suppose you don’t want to tell them?”

  “That’s right.” Sydney didn’t know what was wrong with her all of a sudden. She wasn’t shy about sex. If Ember wanted to talk about it or even wanted to do it, why would that matter?

  The thought felt wrong even as the image of Ember’s muscular body curled around Sydney caused heat to course through her. It was the stress, she told herself, and the fact that Ember was not completely human.

  That hadn’t stopped the brief vision of them together.

  No, she was on a mission. She never indulged while on a mission. She’d never even had company in her standard-issue tent until Camille had tried to join her.

  It just wasn’t done.

  Sydney lay down and felt Ember do the same, but there was no cuddling. The blanket barely stretched over both of them, leaving no extra to wrap around and serve as a buffer between their bodies and the tent’s rough canvas floor. Sydney tucked one arm under her head and tried to make herself comfortable, tried to ignore the breathing and the very presence of the woman behind her. Maybe her desire to abstain was more than just military discipline. She didn’t want Ember this way, not in the middle of a crisis, worried for comrades and loved ones, dirty, and tired. With Ember, she wanted somewhere soft and safe and private. A place they could get to know each other’s bodies as they’d gotten to know each other’s minds.

  Strange, she’d never really thought like that before. It hadn’t seemed to matter. But as strange as the thoughts were, they banished Ember’s non-humanity from her mind.

  * * *

  Ember lay still in the dark and wondered what she’d done wrong. Sydney clearly didn’t like to cuddle, though she’d seemed happy to do so after Ember had wept earlier. But then she’d asked about sex.

  Ember would have been happy to oblige, but the topic had seemed to make Sydney withdraw even further. She hadn’t reached out or made a suggestion, nothing to signal her consent, and Ember didn’t want her to feel forced or obliged or anything like that. The very thought was icky.

  She remembered the way Sydney had held her close earlier, the tender firmness of her embrace. Afterward, her tanned cheeks had turned pink, but she hadn’t seemed embarrassed like Rowena did sometimes. From the way her hand lingered on Ember’s arm, it had looked more like arousal.