when you watched people for long enough, you began to pick up on certain things. Even the smallest of details could become important later. Like say, knowing how important the Trateri considered their horses or knowing how they'd react to the possibility of a fake alliance with the Kyren.
"Like for instance, you're considered clanless. Some might question your loyalty, yet you're the shield of the most powerful man in the Trateri ranks," Kent said. "Vincent thinks you'll flip given enough incentive, but I figure you'll find a way to die because you'd never break the trust of your warlord."
Caden studied Kent.
Eva didn't have to ask to know Kent had guessed right. Whatever happened, Caden wasn't going to give up Trateri secrets.
Kent stood from where he'd crouched. "You see, there's not much I can do. Even if I tried, it'd likely end in failure."
"That's not a reason to sit back and let things happen," Eva snapped. "You might try and succeed too."
A wry smile crossed his face. "I suppose you have a point in that."
"You're wasting your breath, Eva. He's not one of your lostlings," Caden said. "He's not going to put his life in danger to help us."
Kent didn't bother denying it as he arched one eyebrow. "Why should I? To go back to being a second-class citizen? I'm grateful to you, herd mistress, but not enough to die for you."
He started to walk away and Eva sensed their chances slipping away. "Wait. There is something you can do, and it doesn't require you to risk your life."
Kent stopped. "Somehow I doubt that."
"I have some of the poultice in my pockets. Give it to Laurell," Eva pleaded. She didn't care what it took. She couldn't stand to see Laurell's vacant gaze as the infection ate away a little more of her humanity second by second.
Kent shook his head. "It won't matter. She's gone. Her body might still be walking around, but her mind has ended. She's now a puppet to the one who did this. One of the monsters I talked about."
"What is it?" Eva asked.
He lifted a shoulder. "I imagine you'd know more about that than me, since you have a pathfinder in your ranks and all that."
"You don't have to save her, you only have to try," Eva argued.
He opened his mouth but shut it at the sound of footsteps moving through the brush.
The man who’d beaten Caden before stepped through, stopping at the sight of Kent.
"What are you doing here?" Kelly asked.
Kent waved a hand. "Checking on the prisoners. Nothing nefarious."
"Why? The woodling’s vines will hold them."
Kent arched an eyebrow. "And you trust a mythological? Come on, she's a monster."
"Fair enough."
"What're you doing here, Kelly?" Kent asked.
Kelly tilted his chin at Eva. "Vincent thinks she can be of use."
Kent whistled. "And he sent you to get her? What did you do to make him angry? You know the vines are as likely to grab us. There will be no saving you, then."
Kelly bared his teeth. "I didn't come alone."
Outwardly Kent’s expression remained calm even as he stiffened.
There was the rustle of leaves as thin branches knocked against each other. A woman moved on bare feet into the clearing. At first Eva thought the woman had flowers woven into her hair before she realized the flowers were her hair, their green stems and small leaves shivering in a slight breeze.
Her skin was a chalky white with the faintest tinge of green, her lips nearly the same shade. She wore no clothes beyond what the greenery and plants adorning her skin provided.
A half-circle decorated her forehead, above eyes that had no pupil, and instead were a solid gray.
Both men went still as she padded toward them, her gaze vacant as if she wasn't quite seeing them.
The woman's eyes fell on Laurell and her entire face lit up. She crossed the clearing at a run. The vines waved in her wake, brushing against her feet and legs in a silent greeting.
"Look at my pretty." The woman placed her hand's on Laurell's face as she cooed in admiration. "You are so beautiful. We're going to have so much fun. Just wait and see."
Both men watched the woman's gushing with expressions of mild repulsion.
Eva held very still, unable to escape the sense of wrongness emanating from the woman. It wasn't just her behavior, though that would have been clue enough. It was the smell of her, like a sickly-sweet fruit left too long in the sun. Worse, was the buzzing beneath Eva's