Edlan didn’t have enough forces to completely surround Forge. They’d set up their encampment across the main road, and intermittent patrols formed a porous perimeter around the rest of the city. Kyra could have avoided the camp entirely and dealt simply with the patrols, but she wanted to get a better look at what Forge was up against.
She skirted the outer edge of the Edlan camp as she left the city. The soldiers had dug trenches at the borders of their camp and were in the process of fortifying them with sharpened stakes. Kyra saw a few catapults, but not enough to suggest an imminent attack on the walls. Talk and laughter filtered out to Kyra as she passed. There were many soldiers and many campfires, but even from her limited vantage point in the darkness, she could see that activity centered on one central campfire and a large tent set up next to it. Kyra recognized Alvred, the Defense Minister, and Willem holding court there. Pages and squires attended them, and messengers came back and forth from other parts of the camp. She watched for a while and then headed for the safety of the trees.
Kyra ran deeper into the woods until she was absolutely sure that the soldiers were behind her. Then she stopped and cast about in the darkness. What was her plan? She had to find Leyus, somehow persuade him to help, and then lead an attack on the Edlan forces. It had seemed less ludicrous when she’d proposed it to Malikel.
She wandered awhile, calling out a few times, but there was no response. If any Demon Riders watched her, they weren’t interested in helping her. Well, there was one other way to find the clan.
Kyra looked around one last time, peeled off her clothes, and tied them as best she could into a bundle. Her fur came easily, but she shuffled from foot to foot after her shape settled, unsure of what exactly to do. She’d made plenty of sounds in her fur before, but never on purpose. She experimented with something that sounded like a mix between a growl and a bark, and then threw her head back.
The roar reverberated through the forest, and Kyra couldn’t quite believe that such a sound had come from her throat. She waited, and for a long time there was nothing. But then, in the distance, there came a faint response. It was far away, but Kyra knew immediately which way to go. She carefully picked up her clothes in her teeth and loped off.
Her sense of direction never wavered. Soon enough, she smelled other demon cats nearby and saw movement in the trees ahead of her. Kyra stopped and changed back into her somewhat slobbery clothes. She had just fastened her cloak when she noticed two Demon Riders watching her.
“Is Leyus here?” she asked.
One of the two, a man around Leyus’s age, gestured toward the trees to Kyra’s left, though his expression conveyed that he was simply answering her question and not extending an invitation. Kyra heard him fall in step behind her.
There was a surprising number of Demon Riders milling about. Kyra counted about twenty-two in their skin and about half that number in their fur. Kyra thought she spotted Adele at the edge of the group, and near the middle of the pack, a tawny-yellow cat looked up sharply at Kyra’s arrival. Pashla.
Leyus—her father—sat beneath a tree, one arm propped up on his knee. Next to him sat Havel and Zora. There was something about the body language among the three of them as they talked. Kyra could tell that these were old friends, and she found their easy familiarity with one another almost as intimidating as the power they wielded.
Leyus’s expression as he watched her come closer was one of controlled impatience. To Kyra’s surprise, it wasn’t Leyus who spoke first, but Havel, and he spoke the language of the three cities.
“She cannot stay away,” he said, his eyes bright with interest. “Blood calls to blood.”
“It is of no consequence,” said Leyus. “The girl has chosen her loyalties.”