For her part, Karigan engrossed herself in oiling her swords and longknife. Two swords still felt excessive to her when she was so used to just one, but she had to admit she liked having them both. By the time she was done and had sheathed them, she noticed that Estral had closed her journal and was staring into the fire. Enver emerged from the woods and into their campsite, his expression serene.
“Little cousin,” he said, “would you like to try singing tonight?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Estral replied.
Enver nodded in acceptance. The silver light of the muna’riel cast him into a being of ethereal beauty, not uncommon for Eletians, but he had always seemed more earthly to Karigan, of a simpler, more common nature. He’d been inquisitive about his surroundings in the castle, but out in the woods he was more in his element, quieter, mysterious. Who was this Eletian in whom they’d placed so much trust? They had time to find out, Karigan supposed.
Remembering the box Captain Mapstone had given her, she asked, “Anyone want a Dragon Dropping?”
Enver turned toward her, looking concerned. “Galadheon, those should be saved for dire need.”
Estral, who had apparently never witnessed an Eletian in the presence of chocolate before, looked surprised.
“Chocolate,” Karigan said, “may have some restorative effect on Eletians, but for the rest of us, it’s just dessert.”
“Perhaps,” Enver replied, “but I still think it may be wise to save it until there is dire need.”
Leave it to an Eletian, Karigan thought, to turn eating chocolate into so grave an affair.
ELI CREEK STATION
The next day brought much of the same, the gray-green woods, the quiet, until the clouds thickened and sent down, first, rain, then sharp sleet. The sleet scratched at Karigan’s hood, and she was thankful for the flaps of her new greatcoat that kept her legs dry. Clumps of wet snow dropped on them from boughs above. It made Coda and Bane uneasy, but Condor was resigned, his head hung low. Even Mist shook her mane as though disgruntled.
When the sleet turned back to rain, a fog rose up from the ground, billowing among the tree trunks. Enver’s mare, Mist, so aptly named, faded into the vapor, Enver only slightly more visible. Even Estral, just ahead, grew indistinct behind the layers of gauzy veils of fog that fell between them.
At what Karigan guessed to be midday, they huddled beneath the shielding boughs of a white pine to rest the horses and eat dried rations.
“I knew there was a reason why I didn’t like travel,” Estral grumbled.
She looked miserable with a runny nose and damp tendrils of hair sticking to her cheeks. Karigan didn’t imagine she looked much better. Enver, in contrast, was unperturbed and undisheveled.
“When I find my father,” Estral continued, “I am returning to Selium and never leaving again.”
Karigan wondered what Alton would think of that plan. She was about to ask when a chilling howl rose up somewhere nearby in the woods. It was answered by another from a different location. There was a third distinct howl from somewhere behind them.
“Wolves?” Estral asked.
“Groundmites,” Karigan replied. Immediately she unbuckled her swordbelt with the saber and longknife and thrust it into Estral’s hands.
“What—?”
“Put it on,” Karigan said. “You told me you were doing some arms training. You may need a sword.”
Estral looked terrified. She’d probably never even seen a groundmite before. “What about you?”
“I have my longsword and the bonewood.”
“We must hasten,” Enver said, and Mist came right to him, though Bane stamped nervously.
“Put it on,” Karigan ordered Estral, and went to Condor to tighten his girth and mount. She’d the longsword strapped to her saddle. The bonewood was harnessed across her back.
Estral had difficulty mounting her skittish horse with a sword girded at her side, so Karigan sidled Condor along Coda so he wouldn’t swing away. When finally she was up, Enver led them out, with arrow nocked to bow string, guiding Mist with only cues from his legs.
When the horses were once again warmed up, Enver increased their pace to a trot, hooves churning and splashing through slushy snow. Karigan pushed her hood off despite the sting of icy rain, so her hearing and the peripheral vision of her one good eye were not hampered. Periodically the yowling wailed through the woods, sometimes farther away, sometimes closer at hand, but always around them. They were being stalked.
Karigan clenched her teeth as ice water runneled off her hair and down her neck. She rubbed her eye clear and darted glances into the woods. Sometimes she thought she saw movement, but it could have been just the fog undulating among the branches and trunks and underbrush.
A cry came very close from her right side, and suddenly they were racing ahead in a full-on dash. Karigan and Condor were pelted by clods of snow from Coda’s hooves ahead. She shielded her face, peering around her hand to make sure Estral was all right. Enver and Mist were dragging poor Bane along, his burdens bouncing on his back. They could not keep up this pace for long. The Eletian path might be easier than others, but the weather had made it slick, and the horses labored to keep upright.
It was not long before Enver pulled up and turned to speak to them. Karigan reined Condor alongside Coda. Estral’s cheeks were red and her eyes wide. Her knuckles were white from clenching Coda’s reins. Steam rose from all the horses.
“We may have to make a stand,” Enver said.