know war. You know if we stand here we’ll surely meet our end.”
Vaelin pursed his lips and glanced around. “If we stand here, yes,” he said. “This is a poor place to defend. The marsh will hamper our enemy to be sure, but it hampers us just as much. So many Gifted assailing each other on a narrow patch of ground will bring only disaster.” He raised the map she had given him, pointing to a spot amidst the hills to the west. “What is this?”
“Just a gloomy ruin,” she said, squinting at the map in bemusement. “My people call it the Ghost Shacks. It used to be home to people who worked a copper mine in the nearby hills. They all fell victim to some form of plague years ago. The bones still litter the houses.”
Vaelin’s gaze returned to the fire, brows knitting as his mind resumed the familiar practice of formulating a stratagem. “Wooden houses?” he asked, glancing at the twins.
“Yes,” Luralyn replied, voice cautious.
“Then that’s where we’ll stand.” Vaelin rose and hefted Derka’s saddle. “Can you guide us clear of the marsh in the dark?”
Luralyn remained still for a moment as she regarded the determination on the face of each of her companions. Sighing, she said, “If Kihlen and Jihla can light the way as we go, yes.”
“Then let’s not linger.” Vaelin hauled the saddle onto Derka’s back. “Leave it burning,” he said, seeing Varij prepare to throw water on the fire. “You can’t trap a fox if he won’t follow the scent.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
The marsh grew more perilous the further west they went, their feet sinking deeper into the waterlogged earth with each passing mile. The twins led the way with torches fashioned from their few remaining sticks, sometimes casting bursts of flame ahead to enable Luralyn to gauge their course. Despite the painful slowness with which they moved, and Luralyn’s careful navigation, it was inevitable that the marsh would attempt to claim at least one victim.
Juhkar strayed a few inches from the path and soon found himself flailing in water up to his chest. From the bubbles surrounding his struggling form and the rapidity with which he sank, it was clear he had contrived to discover a patch of quicksand.
“Ropes!” Vaelin said, quickly unhooking a length of cord from Derka’s saddle. It was too late, however, Juhkar’s head slipping beneath the oily blackness of the water whilst his long arms waved frantically.
A loud splash drew Vaelin’s gaze to the rear of the column, where he saw one of the horses leaping into the water. Shuhlan stood on the shore in utter stillness, staring at the animal with absolute concentration. The beast swam quickly to Juhkar, snaring his wrist with its teeth just before it could slip beneath the water. Turning about, the horse struck out for firm ground, dragging Juhkar with it. He emerged into the air, sputtering and clamping his arms around the horse’s neck as it bore him to safety. Once within arm’s reach of the shore, Vaelin and the others dragged both horse and man clear of the water.
“I think,” Vaelin said, seeing Shuhlan wipe a trickle of blood from her nose, “it would be of considerable assistance if I had a full understanding of the gifts of everyone in this company.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
They cleared the marsh come the dawn, straggling free of the sucking mire with all heads save Vaelin’s lowered in near exhaustion. He allowed a short rest on the gentle slope they had emerged onto, peering into the misty depths of the marsh for any sign of their pursuers. For all Luralyn’s certainty, he had yet to see any firm evidence that her brother had set hunters on their trail. Nor could he see any now, just grey-green murk unblemished by torchlight or the silhouettes of men.
“They’re coming,” Juhkar said, moving to Vaelin’s side. His features were dark with fatigue but his eyes remained bright and alert as he scanned the marsh. “I can feel it.”
“Your . . . song tells you so?” Vaelin ventured. Although he had been provided with a brief description of their abilities, the true nature of this man’s facility for tracking game and sensing danger had been described in the vaguest terms.
“Song?” Juhkar frowned. “No. I feel it. Like the wind on my skin or the heat of a fire. Sometimes it’s strong, sometimes weak. Today”—he met Vaelin’s gaze—“it’s very strong.”
“Do you know how many? How far off they are?”
“A