Kyra realized, as she looked closer, that she recognized the other woman. Her name was Adele. She and her friend Mela had once asked Kyra about her life with the humans. Adele had been friendly and curious that time. What had changed?
Pashla caught Kyra’s eye and beckoned her closer. “Adele didn’t recognize you. There was fighting this morning, and she mistook you for the hostile humans.”
Adele met Kyra’s eyes and gave a solemn nod. “I was mistaken. Please forgive me.”
Flick came up behind her, eyeing the two clanswomen warily. He looked slightly at a loss for words. At least Pashla and Adele were fully clothed now. Pashla wore a cloak over her leather wraparound tunic and leggings. Adele wore no cloak, and her tunic had no sleeves. Kyra could see goose bumps on the clanswoman’s arms, but Adele didn’t shiver.
“Is everything all right?” said Flick, looking from the Makvani women to Kyra.
“I think so,” Kyra said, and the clanswomen didn’t contradict her. Adele eyed Flick with curiosity, looking for all the world like a cat presented with a new insect. “This is Flick, my friend,” Kyra said. She turned to him. “There was a misunderstanding. Adele didn’t mean to attack us.”
“I see,” said Flick in a tone of voice that suggested he most definitely did not see. Kyra wondered how good the Makvani were at picking up sarcasm. But as strange as things currently were, they definitely could have ended up a lot worse. Now the question was how to proceed.
Pashla’s gaze focused behind Kyra. “Those two girls, are they with you as well?”
So much for keeping them out of this. “Those are my adopted sisters. They mean no harm.”
“I wish to see them,” said Pashla.
Kyra hesitated but decided it was better to trust Pashla. She nodded to Idalee, who took Lettie’s hand and led her cautiously closer. Pashla looked the nervous girls over. To Kyra’s surprise, Idalee and Lettie didn’t cower, but instead stood taller and calmer under Pashla’s gaze.
A branch cracked in the distance just then, and Pashla turned her face to the wind. “There are people coming.”
“Soldiers,” said Adele. Kyra heard the clank of weapons, and she remembered Pashla’s earlier words about a fight and hostile humans. Had the early units out of Forge already clashed with the Makvani? Adele’s eyes took on a fierce glint, and she reached to untie her belt. Pashla started to unclasp her cloak, and Kyra realized with horror that they were preparing to change shape.
She grabbed Pashla and Adele by the arm. “Don’t,” she said. “There’s many of them. You can’t face them all.”
Pashla’s face tightened with annoyance, and she shook off Kyra’s arm.
“Who goes there?” called a voice.
Kyra’s stomach plummeted. For better or worse, the soldiers were here.
Pashla gave Kyra a furious glare. A group of about twenty men picked their way toward them, and the Makvani no longer had the window of time they needed to change shape. Out of the corner of her eye, Kyra saw Flick throw his cloak around Adele’s shoulders. It took Kyra a moment to realize what he was doing. Adele’s wraparound tunic was the easiest way to identify her as Makvani, and Flick was covering up the evidence. Adele cast a suspicious glance toward him but kept the cloak around her shoulders.
One by one, the soldiers came into view. It wasn’t Flick’s unit, though like them, these soldiers lacked livery and wore the usual peasant garb of rough tunics and trousers. Despite the lack of uniforms, these men were formidable looking, much tougher than what Kyra remembered from the training fields. They were well muscled, and they carried swords and spears with confidence. A barrel-chested man stepped out to speak to them.
“Your names?”
Flick stepped out from behind her. “My name is Fyvie of Forge, good soldier,” he said. “These are my sisters Marla and Isabel, Laurie, and their companions.”