Edan’s mind was made up. He lifted me onto Opal. “Hiyah!” he shouted, slapping her back.
Opal burst into a gallop, and I clung to her neck, my pulse racing unsteadily. I was so weak I couldn’t turn back to see Edan vanish into the canyon; simply holding on to my horse was a struggle enough.
I might never see him again, I realized. If he died, I wouldn’t know for days, maybe more. He’d be alone, like my brothers.
Whatever sense I had left begged me to keep going—what use was I to Edan like this? I’d only get in his way. But my heart overruled my jumbled thoughts, and I pulled back on the reins. Opal reared, her forelegs pawing the air.
With a cry, I fell off her back onto the slick road. I sprang to my feet, my knees barely holding me up. My vision was blurred, my body sweating from the fever. Where the demon had touched my neck, it burned hotter than before, but I endured the pain. I had to, if I was going to help Edan.
“Shhh,” I said, holding Opal’s cheek. “Stay here. You’ll be s-safe.”
I didn’t see anything, only an empty expanse of craggy, red-veined canyon. No soldiers. No mercenaries. No Edan.
My heart hammered as I reached for my dagger, then into my satchel for my scissors—just in case—stashing them in my boot. Edan had shown me how to slice a man’s throat, how to stab a man in the back—I tried to recall the lessons, fervently hoping I wouldn’t need them.
Armed, I rushed to catch up with Edan. The rain had stopped, but the ground was wet as I ran along the Leyang River.
I heard the soldiers before I saw them around a bend. Their horses snorted and neighed from across the river, and the soldiers’ armor clattered. They marched in a line that curved along the canyon floor, their iron shields and swords a stark contrast to the lush greenery. I gritted my teeth when I picked out Vachir among the men, riding a white stallion.
Crouching behind a tree, I scanned the area for Edan. He wasn’t far, and he was on my side of the river, directly facing them. I ran toward him.
“There’s quite a heavy price on your head, Lord Enchanter!” Vachir yelled. “You, sir, are going to the shansen. We’ll take the trunks, and the girl.”
That last part made Edan’s eyes darken with anger. No sane man would dare threaten an enchanter, but the shansen’s men were recklessly confident.
Did they know that Edan’s magic was weakened?
I joined Edan by the river. He took one step to the side, shielding me. But he kept his eyes trained across the river, on our enemies. He raised his bow.
“I thought enchanters didn’t need weapons,” one of the soldiers sneered.
“You do not want to fight against me,” Edan said. “I suggest you be on your way.”
Vachir waved his sword, and his men began to ford the river.
A few of them turned their attention to me, shouting lewd words and making kissing sounds. Edan’s eyes blackened into cinder. He stiffened and raised his bow and fired three rapid shots. The men fell into the river, never to rise again.
Already the soldiers were on our side, rounding on Edan. Edan grabbed my wrist and pushed me away from the river. “Go!” he shouted.
I ran, but two soldiers sprang on me from behind the trees. My dagger was out, but the men surrounded me, laughing.
“Where you going, girl?”
I slashed at the one who’d spoken, but I missed his throat and scored his cheek instead. I made a long, jagged gash—one that wouldn’t be pretty once it healed. The man growled. As he moved to strike me, I raised my dagger again. But the second soldier came from the side, caught my arm, and twisted it until I dropped my weapon.
His teeth were yellow and crooked, and his breath smelled of spoiled meat. Before I could scream, his cold, sweaty hand covered my lips. I saw the dirt and blood in his nails, and my knees buckled. He laughed in my face as he held his knife over my throat.
“Stop fooling around and just kill her,” his friend spat, wiping his bleeding face on his sleeve. “She’s not the one with a price on her head. The enchanter is.”
“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve felt a woman?” My captor yanked my hair back, forcing my neck to crane upward. “Not so feisty