Tauran shook his head. “I don’t think so. But it won’t take my weight. Shit, this is exactly what we need!”
“Easy.” Kalai’s voice was steady. “It’s not all bad. That column we saw? It was smoke. From a house. There’s a house out here.”
Tauran met Kalai’s eyes, focusing on those beautiful dark depths instead of the fire in his body. There was blood on Kalai’s face, above his brow. He was hurt, too. Tauran blinked, comprehending Kalai’s words slowly. “A house.”
“Yes. That has to be where we’re headed.”
Tauran looked over Kalai’s shoulder, scanning the horizon until he spotted the gray column. He narrowed his eyes. A slight breeze had started, pushing the column a little to the left.
“It’s not too far. You can ride on Leyra’s back,” Kalai continued. “Maybe whoever lives there will let us stay a few days. Give your leg a chance to recover.”
Tauran swallowed hard. “I lost the horses. My saddle bags. Half our supplies are gone.”
“It’s okay.” Kalai’s hand at the back of his neck drew him in and Tauran leaned against him, allowing the warmth of Kalai’s body to soothe his frayed nerves. “All my things are on Arrow’s saddle. We’ll make do. What matters is that we’re all okay.”
Tauran released a breath and raised his head, loosening his cramped grip on Kalai’s shoulder to cup his face instead. “By the skies, Kalai. Next time, you get the fuck out of there. You’re bleeding. If you’d died…”
Kalai smiled. “But I didn’t. And neither did you. I’m not as frail as I look, you know.”
Tauran managed a small laugh. “Oh, you’ve never made that anything but crystal clear.”
“Good.”
“And frail isn’t the word I’d use. More like… ruggedly handsome and covered in dirt.”
“Okay, your leg clearly isn’t that hurt,” Kalai teased, gently.
“Clearly. We need to clean up that cut.” He angled his chin at Kalai’s brow. “It’ll get infected.”
“I’ll handle it.” Kalai let Tauran transfer his weight from him to Leyra. “Think you can keep moving?”
Tauran nodded. “Yeah. Let’s find out what’s waiting for us in that house.”
* * *
The house sat on a wide stretch of dry land, surrounded by a rickety fence built from sticks and branches. Just inside was a small, rather unimpressive herb garden with just a few hardy herbs able to survive in the marshes. Beyond lay the house. It was small, built from all different kinds of rocks, wood and flat stones stacked on each other and held together with baked mud. A small building beside it housed a horse. The animal stuck its head out and watched them warily as they approached.
“This is so weird,” Tauran murmured. He halted Leyra some distance from the building. “Let’s leave the dragons here.”
“Good idea. Let’s not freak these poor people out too much.” Kalai slipped from Arrow’s saddle and walked around him. “They probably don’t get visitors all that often. Are you good to walk?”
Tauran carefully lowered himself off Leyra, hissing when his feet hit the ground. He cautiously tested his left leg. It no longer buckled, but the pain hadn’t lessened. “Give me a hand?”
Kalai stepped around Leyra and let Tauran wrap his arm around his shoulders.
Tauran drew his pistol, checking the chamber, then holstered again. He had loaded it with the last bullets they had. Never hurt to be cautious.
They walked the remaining fifty feet through the small opening in the fence to the crooked front door built from layers of sticks. Light shone from cracks in the door. It certainly wasn’t made to keep mosquitoes out.
They shared brief glances before Kalai raised a hand and knocked.
The door swung open instantly, Tauran’s hand jerking to the pistol in his belt. Then he froze.
A middle-aged Sharoani woman stood in the doorway, staring at them with hard eyes. She held a dull silver pistol at her hip, aimed perfectly at groin-height.
“What you want?” she asked. Her black hair was tied back in a braid and shot through with gray, her body slender but with a sinewy strength. Tauran had no doubt she could fire that pistol before he could draw his own. Slowly, he raised his hand into the air.
“Friends sent us here,” he said. “I have coordinates. Uh..” He reached for his jacket pocket, but the woman flicked the gun to his chest and hissed a curse.
“Sky Guard?” she asked, eyes narrowing when she said it. Her hand tightened on the pistol.
“No! No, we’re, uh…” Tauran swallowed. His leg throbbed with an intensity that clouded