“That I have a small bladder?” He shrugged. “If that’s the way you want to look at it.” He kneeled, still staying out of arm’s reach and looking at her as if she was a wounded animal. “It’s all right, Roni. No one’s going to hurt you now.”

  Oh, how she wanted to believe that, but if tonight had proved anything, it was that she couldn’t let down her guard. Ever.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Zara hoped Veronique knew how lucky she was that she and Cortez had visited the latrine at the same time. Otherwise, everyone might have been standing around staring at two dead bodies.

  If only they could have questioned this Firellian soldier. She’d clearly thought the Sarrasians had killed all of her squad, and Zara would have loved to know why. At least they had one question answered: the Firellians hadn’t turned on one another.

  And Zara could understand why Cortez had killed her instead of trying to capture her. Doing anything else might have resulted in Veronique’s death. Any loss in her squad would have been a blow, but she had to admit that Veronique’s death would have been…different than the others. Like the end of personal possibilities instead of just a life.

  Nonsense. All deaths saw an end to possibilities. But even logic couldn’t argue that Veronique’s death wouldn’t have been harder to take. Gods, she wished she was wearing the glove so the Vox could help her sort through some of this emotional mire. But she felt better for spending a night without her body having to sustain the Vox as well as herself.

  She glanced around at the darkness and knew it would be dawn soon. “Pack up,” she said. “It’s no use trying to get another hour of sleep.” Everyone went about their tasks, leaving the dead Firellian in the snow. Her family would never know what had happened to her. Zara shivered as she imagined her sisters in the same predicament.

  After a sigh, she turned to her own tent, hating how the pre-dawn darkness always led one to melancholy thoughts. She caught Veronique’s eye and nodded to her abdomen. “All bandaged up?”

  With a nod, Veronique lifted her shirt enough to show a white bandage. “Ernesto gave me a few stitches but doesn’t think the knife cut any deeper.”

  “Getting sewn up in the cold is never fun.”

  “I imagine it wouldn’t be fun any time of year, Commander.” She hadn’t cried out or made a fuss during the procedure, another sign in her favor.

  “I’m glad you’re all right, Veronique.”

  Her head whipped up from where she was examining her wound. “Are you?”

  “Of course.” Zara nearly took a step back, flabbergasted. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t…you can call me Roni, you know.”

  Zara frowned and went over their recent interactions, trying to glean where she’d given the impression that she didn’t care if Veronique—Roni—got hurt. Surely, Roni didn’t think her withdrawal from their last conversation meant she had ceased to care?

  In fact, when Zara switched to the nickname in her thoughts, she cared a little more.

  How strange.

  Roni avoided her eyes for a moment before sighing. “I’m sorry.”

  “What for?” Another confusion to add to the pile.

  “I just…am. Commander.” She nearly ran to help the others.

  Zara stared for a few seconds, wondering what in the gods’ names that had been about. Well, she didn’t have time to wonder now, nor did she want to run after Roni and demand an explanation. She went into her tent to pack and took the chain from her pocket, looping it around her hand until it was a glove. As always, she couldn’t quite recall how she’d done it. The pattern always seemed to appear in her mind and disappear as quickly. And when the feeling of the Vox’s awakening flooded her senses, she couldn’t even wonder how they worked. She was just so happy that they did.

  “I missed a lot, I see,” the Vox’s many voices said in her mind as she thought about what had happened in the night.

  “Any ideas about what Roni said? About being surprised that I wanted her to be safe?”

  “Humans are a mass of contradictions, that’s what I know.”

  Zara nodded. They were of the same mind there. “We’ll have to ponder as we move. Scout the area for more Firellian stragglers while we pack.”

  The Vox shivered in a whirl of metal until they became a snowy owl. They didn’t need the real bird’s protection from the cold, but the silhouette was good camouflage from anyone who might catch sight of them.

  Unless any watchers saw them glint in the light. The Vox ruffled their metal feathers in a tinny sound like tiny bells. “For anyone to see me, I’d have to be close, and then it would be too late for them.” They hopped outside and flew into the sky.

  Zara shivered in pleasure but paid only half a mind to the data the Vox sent to her. She began the march while it was still dark and called a halt two hours later so the squad could have some breakfast in the gray daylight that managed to filter through the wall of clouds.

  Everyone ate quietly, many staring into the woods or casting nervous glances over their shoulders. Zara sat because some of the others would remain standing while she did. Jaq made a round, checking on everyone before he came to sit beside her on a log away from the others.

  “They’re worried about the enemy scouts, boss,” he said quietly. “And whoever slaughtered that camp since they know it wasn’t a Firellian soldier now.”

  Zara frowned. “It still could have been Firellian soldiers, just not anyone that particular soldier knew.”

  He gave her a mild smile, and she guessed that particular point of deduction wouldn’t comfort anyone. He leaned closer. “A couple of the veterans are even looking at the newbies and vice versa. They think someone could have sneaked away from camp at night, done the deed, and been back before sunrise.”

  “Damn. I hope you put a stop to that.”

  “As much as I can, but when people are scared, they look for someone to blame.”

  Zara shook her head. “Nonsense. Such a person would have been covered in blood, doused in it by the look of that camp. Someone would have noticed that in the morning.”

  “I don’t know if that will help, but I can try reminding everyone of that.”

  “Do your best, Jaq.”

  “Boss.” He gave a small salute and began to mingle again as everyone finished eating.

  Zara tried not to frown at her squad too hard, but she would not tolerate ludicrous suspicions. She hesitated to say anything before someone started pointing fingers aloud. If they knew that Jaq reported much of what they said to her, they might stop speaking to him, especially the new members.

  But suspicion could get a squad killed, especially one that had to trust one another as much as hers. To be on the safe side, she had Finn adjust the walking order, mixing new and old and having the veterans teach quietly as they walked, pointing out various plants or animal tracks or how to spot a good place for a snare or a camp.

  Zara took point again, the Vox still scouting, and it was a good four hours of marching before the Vox’s many voices sounded in her head.

  “A Firellian camp.”

  Zara raised her hand, fist closed, and everyone behind her fell silent and stopped as she did. She waited, heart pounding in her ears while the Vox circled and reported.

  “Fifteen at least,” the Vox said. “Looks like they’ve been here awhile, same as the others. They seem relaxed. Maybe the other camp was supposed to send word of any trouble but didn’t get the chance.”

  Gods and devils, the forest was crawling with enemies. “What are they doing here?”

  “I could try to get close enough to listen.”

  “No, maintain your distance.” Up close, they’d see the Vox’s metallic nature and might follow or attack them. Contrary to appearances, they were not impervious to weapons.

  They acknowledged that thought with a mental huff.

  As the Vox continued to scout, Zara called everyone into a huddle and imparted the news as calmly as she could.

  “Fifteen’s too many to attack,” Claudia said.

  Zara nodded. “Agreed.”

  “Even in an ambush?” Tati asked.

  “That’s more difficult when they’re dug in,” Finn said. “They could have snares, perimeter guards, the devils know what.”

  Zara held up a hand. “Our orders were to scout the border and report back,” she said, meeting everyone’s eyes. “Not to engage every enemy we see. We mark the camp on the map, and we go around.”

  She wasn’t happy about leaving an enemy encampment on this side of the border, but the infantry could clear it out later. She left Jaq and Finn to explain that while she copied the Vox’s report in her journal, and when the Vox returned, she steered the squad directly north, leaving the path and heading for one of the tributaries of the Kingfish River that could guide them to the Firellian border. Maybe such a detour would keep them away from any other Firellian camps.

  If the woods weren’t filled with them.

  They had to go slower in the forest proper, circling deadfalls and snowdrifts. After an hour of marching that hadn’t gotten them far at all, Zara called a halt and examined her map again. Maybe it would be faster to actually go around the camp and take to the trail again.

  “If you keep scouting, that might work,” she said to the Vox as they hopped from her shoulder to a nearby branch.

  “Not if we come close to them while making this much noise.”

  She scowled even though she agreed. The veterans made enough of a din going cross-country, but the others? As Adella would say, the dead might have heard them.

  Impossible, but it was a comparison that quieted groups of people quickly, perhaps because of the inference that if they weren’t quiet, they might not live that long.

  “We breaking for lunch, boss?” Finn asked.

  Zara glanced around and nodded. It was as good a place as any and would give her more time to ponder. Everyone began to spread out when Leo fell over with a little cry.

  Zara turned, looking for the cause, but noise exploded around them, deafening screams and animal cries that echoed between the bare trees like a chorus of devils.

  Everyone had their hands over their helmets as if that would stop the sound. Zara fought to think through the noise. It could only be a magical tripwire. “Run,” she yelled as loudly as she could, but the sound was lost amid all the others. She waved or shoved everyone into motion, pulling Roni along as she took off at a breakneck pace.

  When they’d come far enough from the noise to speak, she stopped and pulled the gasping squad into another huddle. “Magical tripwire,” she said. The sound was already fading, but the Firellians would be coming.

  “Firellians don’t use much magic—” Claudia started.

  Zara spoke over her. “No time to ponder. We’ll split up to confuse them. Ana, you’re coming with me and the Vox. We’ll lay an obvious trail for the Firellians to follow, then double back toward the trail to lose them. Finn, take Ernesto, Roni, and Cortez. Jaq, you have Claudia, Leo, and Tati. Go more carefully along two separate lines and keep to the north until you hit the tributary. Got it?”

  “Yes, boss,” the sergeants said.

  They began to split up, and Roni’s worried gaze caught Zara’s again. She tried to give her a reassuring nod, hoping to convey that if she trusted in her sergeant, everyone would be all right.

  Gods, she willed it so.

  * * *

  Roni panted, her breath a white plume as she ran. Finn ordered her, Cortez, and Ernesto to run far apart, just within sight of each other, in an erratic pattern. When possible, they had to avoid breaking the snow while going as fast as they could. Roni reached for low-hanging branches and swung where she could, trying to break up her trail, but any competent tracker would be able to follow her. But she knew the idea was to get the Firellians to split up or follow only a few squad members. Anything to cut down on casualties.

  Gods. Roni started to glance behind but stopped herself. She knew better. In the city streets or out here in the woods, she’d only slow herself down and would no doubt slam into something harder than her head. She forced herself to run faster, reckless, fearing for herself, for the others, for Zara and the obvious trail she was laying.

  Zara wanted the Firellians to chase her so her soldiers could get away. If she was caught, she’d no doubt fight to the death rather than be captured.

  “Fuck,” Roni muttered, but it came out as a wheeze. She was going to lose Zara, to lose the first new friends she’d made in years, and then she’d freeze to death in this gods-forsaken nowhere.

  When someone shouted in the distance, Roni’s darkest thoughts seemed to be coming true. Finn whistled from off to the right, one sharp note, and Roni remembered her training enough to leap for cover. She dove over a snarl of fallen branches, her arms flung up so she could catch herself and roll into a somersault on the other side. One palm connected with the snowy earth, but the other landed half on a rock, her wrist twisting painfully, and a line of fire cutting through her glove into her hand. She hissed and fell, heard the crunch of ice, and then the world went spinning as she rolled down a sharp incline.

  Roni clamped her teeth on a cry and grabbed a root that stuck out of the frozen slope. Her cloak caught on something, choking her, and she reached up to tear it away. Even with her heart hammering, she managed to get her feet under her and tried to find a place to stand, but the ground around the root seemed frozen solid. The little spit of wood she clung to made a horrid cracking sound, threatening to give way.

  Devils help her. She tried to see what waited below but couldn’t twist enough to look. Moving as quickly as she dared, she shrugged one arm out of her pack. The root groaned again. Forcing herself to breathe slowly, she switched to holding on with her injured hand and breathed through the pain. She freed her other arm to send the pack sliding down to join her cloak in hell, for all she knew.

  She switched hands again. The root held. Roni breathed in and out, risking a look this time. Beyond the patch of ice she lay in, the ground seemed a little firmer, as if she’d had the misfortune to fall in the middle of a little creek. Figured. The wounds on her stomach and hand ached. She couldn’t stay here, freezing her ass off and waiting for the Firellians to find her. Slowly, carefully, she reached a foot toward more stable ground.

  The root snapped.

  “No,” Roni squealed, trying to grab at the slick ice or other roots, making her wrist sing out again. Her heel caught on something and sent her swinging sideways, sliding under a clump of spiny-leaved bushes.

  When the world didn’t tilt or slide or reach out to hit her for several minutes, she opened her eyes before rolling onto her back. She forced her breathing to slow again and flexed her limbs. Nothing broken, only sore as hell. A mass of small twisted branches hung a foot above her face, and she felt one bush’s small trunk against her hip. She raised her head enough to see that the plant covered her whole body and then some.

  Well, her wrist ached fiercely, her palm throbbed, and the stitches in her belly let her know they weren’t happy, but at least she was hidden. She put the injured hand on her chest and glanced at the long-frozen creek. How the hell was she supposed to get out of here and find the others? Fear rose again and kept pushing into her throat, wanting to make itself known, wanting her to run again.

  Finn would have told her to muzzle that urge. She’d been given the signal to hide, and that meant someone was on their trail. And Roni had no doubt just left a very obvious path to follow.

  She drew her truncheon slowly and tried to listen past her chattering teeth. The Firellians might only find her, a strangely comforting thought. Now she knew why Zara put herself in danger. If they just found her, she wouldn’t have to watch anyone else die.

  Great. Only her own messy death to come, then.

  Time dragged by agonizingly slowly as she lay there, the cold seeping past her armor and clothing, into her skin, her blood. The branches she’d broken when she’d slid under the plant emitted a strong, spicy smell that made her eyes water. How long had she been here? She had to be safe now. Even if someone found her, she couldn’t just stay—

  Footsteps.

  Roni froze, all thoughts of revealing herself gone in a rush. She tensed as if that would make her hear better.

  A twig snapped, closer now. Someone walking down a slippery hill couldn’t be as quiet as on flat ground. Roni turned her head and stared at the path she’d taken under this bush, her neck aching as she waited for the sight of a boot.

  Or maybe they’d start randomly stabbing the bushes.

  She licked her lips, swallowed, and the spicy plant scent went down her throat, making her stomach roil. Telling her damn mind to stop screaming, she tilted her head, trying to see farther up the path. Nothing yet.

  Someone whispered words she didn’t understand.

  And someone else responded.

  Two of them? Maybe more. Gods and devils, she was doomed. She should run, right? They’d be as hampered as her by the terrain and snow, and maybe Finn and the others would hear and come save her ass.

  She tensed, getting the feeling that these plants wouldn’t be as easy to get out of as they were to get into.

  Someone gasped, and a wet gurgling sound rattled through Roni’s ears. A shriek of terror cut off with another of those awful sounds. Roni flopped onto her stomach and looked up the slope. A body fell, sliding gently on the icy creek, its throat a ruin of red, and its eyes wide in terror. The jaw worked once, steaming gently before it went still.

  Roni clapped a hand over her mouth, tasting ice and mud, but she had to keep it there to stop from screaming. A pair of boots stepped to the side, revealing another body. Its throat would be the same; she didn’t even have to see it to know.

  “Come out, rat.” Hacha’s sandpaper voice. “I saved your sorry life. Come out and say thank you.”