Craigson took her hand in his own. His skin was callused and dry, but his grip was warm. “I’ll likely return to Edlan for the rest of the winter. When this all calms down, come find me, and we’ll talk more.”
Twelve was too large a number to convene for long, and the Makvani grew restless to disperse. It was decided that they would set scouts farther up the road to watch for the caravans. When one came close, the scout would reconvene them.
Flick pointed out that it wouldn’t be enough just to stop the caravans, since stores from nearby farms could feed the army for a few weeks at least. He volunteered to carry a message to those still around and rally them to hide their food stores.
“It’s the least I could do,” he said, rubbing his bearded chin with his fingers. Between the facial hair and the lengthening curls atop his head, he was starting to look rather wild. “To be honest, I feel rather useless. I’d much rather be taking down wagon trains with the rest of you, if only I had the claws to do it.”
“Don’t feel guilty,” said Kyra, thinking of all the Makvani who had come to her aid because of Flick. “You’ve already done much more than you realize.”
When the signal came the next evening, Kyra was still half-asleep in her cave. If she’d been in her skin, she might have missed it completely, but she’d slept in her fur, and instinct pulled her awake. Once again Kyra knew exactly where the roar had come from. It was a new thrill, bounding through the trees toward the others and seeing the branches rush by. When she sensed motion in her periphery and her nose picked up the smell of other demon cats, the fur along her spine prickled in recognition. She had never been in her cat form around so many others before, and the unexpected feeling of kinship surprised her.
They gathered in a small clearing. When they had all changed into their skin and dressed, the scout spoke. “There is a caravan on its way. I think they will camp here tonight and meet the army tomorrow.”
“They’ll be most vulnerable when they sleep,” said Kyra. “Pashla and I will go closer and get a better look at how they’re positioned. We can attack when the moon sets.”
A few of the gathered Makvani bowed to her, running one finger down the front of their necks. Then all except Pashla scattered into the trees.
Kyra stared after them, wondering at this honor they paid her, before she returned her thoughts to the matter at hand. She spoke to Pashla. “I prefer to scout in my skin, if you don’t mind.”
“You lead the way,” said Pashla.
The scout had pointed them toward the road slightly north of them, so Kyra set off in that direction with Pashla walking silently alongside her. It didn’t take long for them to hear voices and see campfires in the distance. They slowed and Kyra pointed to a tree. When Pashla nodded, Kyra led the way up. She wasn’t surprised to see that Pashla climbed well in her skin. In a few moments, they were both high enough to get a good view of the wagon train.
Like the scout had said, there were ten wagons, circled now for the night. Armed guards ringed the outside, while those inside tended to animals and prepared food.
“Where will they sleep?” asked Pashla.
“Under the wagons, I’d think,” said Kyra. “The wagons themselves are likely too full to fit any people.”
Pashla watched the wagons with the sharp gaze of a predator. “We’ll fall on the guards from the trees above. They won’t be expecting it, and they won’t be able to see us coming. But it’s still a large number of enemies for the twelve of us. We’ll all have to be in our fur, if we want our best chance of surviving to fight again. You too, Kyra.”
“I know,” she said. The idea didn’t sit well with her, but if she was to lead the raid, she would have to fight as the others did.
She and Pashla returned to her crew and made plans to meet again after the moon set. When the rest of the group left, Pashla stayed behind.
“You’re not leaving?” asked Kyra.