“Winter, please.” His face was a mask of anguish. “If you don’t get there—”
“I know, damn it.” She slashed the saber through the air. “What are my chances of making it by myself? This isn’t sentiment; it’s tactics. If you get Alex up, she might be able to kill enough of them with her power that we’ll have a chance.”
“I don’t think it’ll be quick enough—”
“Try!” Winter snarled.
If we’re all going to die, the hell if the last thing I do will be to abandon my friends. She turned to face the woods.
A gaunt woman in peasant’s skirts stepped out of the shadow. Then a boy, another priest, several farmers, a pair of girls who looked like sisters. A dozen, more. Eyes glowing from within with the lights of hell.
“What did I tell you?” the woman in the lead said. “There’s only one way this can end. Though I enjoy a good chase.”
Winter wanted to say something, some cutting last words, but nothing came to mind. What does it matter? No one’s going to remember. She raised her saber for a moment, then let the tip fall. The Beast doesn’t care how many of these poor bastards I kill. Her throat was tight. What’s the point of anything—
Something long and heavy flashed out of the darkness and hit the red-?eye in the chest. It was a spear, thrown hard enough that the tip emerged from the small of the woman’s back. She tried to speak, but when she opened her mouth, only blood emerged. She toppled a moment later, and the rest of the red-?eyes charged.
They were met by more spears, a ragged volley, arching over Winter’s head to plunge down among the minions of the Beast with devastating effect. Most of the red-?eyes went down at once. Those that kept coming ran into a tide of black-?and-?white figures, more spears in their hands. A farmer fell, clutching at the ruin of his throat. One of the girls ran right at Winter, but someone intercepted her with a kick, hurling her to the ground. Before she could rise, another figure stabbed down with a spearpoint, once, twice, three times. The girl went still.
Who...? Winter felt her fuzzy, sleep-?deprived mind struggling to keep up. Someone helped us?
She backed up, until she was standing beside Alex and Abraham. Abraham had his head down and his eyes closed, deep in his healing trance. Alex had yet to move.
The newcomers fanned out. There were a lot of them, at least a score. It was hard to see much in the starlight, but they seemed to be short and bulky, though they moved with a lithe grace. Winter saw pale skin and dark hair, and flashes of white fur. Every hand held a spear, and most of them had several more strapped to their backs.
Those spears were leveled at her. The points didn’t gleam as metal would have, but she had ample evidence they were sharp enough.
O-kay. Now what? Whoever these people were, they hadn’t hesitated to cut down the red-?eyes. Since they haven’t spitted us yet, they must be waiting for something. Winter cleared her throat, then hesitated. I doubt they speak Vordanai or Hamveltai. She’d worked on her Murnskai during the campaign, but it was weak compared to Alex’s or Abraham’s. Still better than nothing.
“Kaja... sevet...” Winter concentrated on the tricky consonants of the northern language. “Kdja svet Murnskedj?” Do you speak Murnskai? “Vordanedj?” she added hopefully.
One of the figures took a step closer. “Sveta Murnskedj.” It was a young woman’s voice, with a different accent than Winter had heard from the Murnskai she’d met on the road north. “Dost’av ohk va? Tul fuhr’nos?”
Damn. The first part was “Who are you?”; simple enough, but the second, Tul is... sun? Sun look? Sunray? She glanced at the bodies littering the edge of the forest, and realization dawned. Sun eyes. Red-?eyes.
“Hja, hja, hja. Tyv tul fuhr’nos.” We kill the red-?eyes. Winter drew a line across her throat, hoping they might understand if she’d gotten the word wrong. “Tyv!”
The points of the spears lowered a fraction.
*
Abraham opened his eyes and sagged.
“Hey!” Winter said. “Is she all right?”
“She’ll be fine,” Abraham said, sitting down heavily. “The break was more complicated than I anticipated. I had to guide several splinters of bone back into place.” He looked down at Alex with a faint smile. “I don’t know how many times that makes it that I’ve put her back together.”
He let out a breath and looked up, smile fading.
“Who...?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” Winter said. “But they haven’t killed us yet.”
The newcomers were in the process of setting up a camp, several hundred yards away from where they’d slaughtered the red-?eyes. Winter had done her best to explain that Alex couldn’t be moved yet, and wasn’t sure if she’d gotten the point across or not. Regardless, five of the spear-?wielding warriors had stayed to watch them, weapons not pointed but not stowed, either.
“I tried to tell them that you’d be able to speak to them once you were finished,” Winter said, after she’d explained. “I’m pretty sure I messed that up, though. But they were willing to wait once they saw Alex was hurt.”
“Are they all women?” Abraham said, looking at the guards.
“Possibly,” Winter said. She’d been having a difficult time making much out in the darkness, but some of the faces definitely had a feminine cast. “Is it safe to carry Alex a little way?”
Abraham nodded. “She may not wake up for a while, but she’s not in danger.”
“Can you ask them if we can move over to their camp, then? I think they’re getting a fire going.”
Abraham got to his feet and waved at the guards, who approached warily. He spoke, a rapid-?fire stream of Murnskai, which they answered excitedly. One of them broke away and hurried off toward the camp.
“She says it’s all right,” Abraham said, “but that we’re not to try to run away.”
“I don’t think I’m up to running anywhere,” Winter said. “Help me with Alex.”
Between them, they managed to get Alex upright and her arms slung around Winter’s neck. Winter hefted the girl—?surprisingly heavy, despite her slim frame—?and trudged toward the camp, with Abraham hovering behind her and the four guards maintaining a watchful distance.