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Wynn faltered at this hint of new information. She had contemplated whether any of the orbs could be destroyed, but why “must not,” and what did that mean?

“My people guarded it for an age,” Aupsha continued, “from the time of our honored—and sacred—forebearer, who stole it at the cost of his life. We will guard it again and forever.”

A reply caught in Wynn’s throat. The mention of anything—or anyone—known from the war or the time of the Forgotten History tempted the sage in Wynn with many questions. But any delay would only give Aupsha a chance to act.

What mattered most—first—was taking control of that orb, and yet ...

“What are your people called?” Wynn blurted out.

Even through that mask, Wynn heard Aupsha’s choked scoff before the answer.

“We do not call ourselves anything ... to be known or sought!”

At a sudden thrashing of brush from the road’s far side, Wynn backed up, glancing around the upturned wagon’s front. A keep guard with a sword in hand stumbled out of the forest onto the road’s southern side. His head was bleeding, and Wynn quickly glanced back at Aupsha.

Had the woman in the mask gone back and attacked the remaining guards? That would explain their absence until now.

Aupsha retreated slowly, and Osha tracked her with his bow as she looked around the wagon’s rear. Wynn glanced back to the road.

The newly arrived guard halted at the sight of Captain Martelle and one of his comrades lying in the road. His gaze lifted to Wynn, and then his head turned sharply toward the wagon’s far end; he had likely spotted Aupsha.

The guard’s features twisted in anger.

Out of the corner of Wynn’s eye, she saw Aupsha move.

“Osha!” she shouted.

Then all she saw was Osha’s arrow fly, striking nothing but air, for Aupsha was too fast. Osha took off for the wagon’s rear, as Wynn sped around the other end and startled the injured horse.

“No!” she shouted, thrusting out the staff’s crystal, but it was too late to ignite it.

Aupsha reached the guard as his sword came around. She blocked the strike with a curved dagger, its blade flattened along her forearm. In the same instant, she struck into his chest with her other hand and her momentum. He went down.

“Aupsha, don’t!” Wynn shouted as Osha came out on the road beyond the wagon’s far end. “They’ve been tricked, only following false orders.”

Wynn saw Osha draw back his next arrow.

Aupsha turned, running west up the road and into the wind, and Osha did not fire as she passed him in her escape. Her form suddenly came apart like dust and sand, and she vanished, blown away by the breeze.

Osha turned back and bolted around his end of the wagon, and Wynn quickly did the same. She barely reached the roadside to peer behind the upturned wagon.

Aupsha was there, gripping one end of the orb’s trunk as Osha reappeared beyond her. Wynn didn’t have a chance to even raise her staff.

As she had on the road, Aupsha vanished like dust, along with the trunk ... and the orb.

Wynn cried out in anguish and turned every way until reason took hold. Aupsha had to have come from inland along the road at first. And this time she wasn’t just moving unseen among the trees. She was moving on the wind, and that would limit where she could go.

Hearing a groan, Wynn looked back to see Captain Martelle attempting to push himself up with one arm. Osha raced toward her behind the wagon, and Wynn faced him.

“She’s moving on—”

“Wind, yes,” he finished.

He scrambled up the wagon’s wheels before Wynn said more, and he stood on the upper wagon wall as he looked inland along the road.

Pulling the arrow out of his bow without looking, he slipped its steel head back into the quiver over his shoulder. When his hand came back down, Wynn thought he’d pulled out the same again. But the one he now held had a thicker white metal tip.

“She would have an easier time on the road in the dark,” she said, this time in Elvish.

“I need more light!” he shouted.

Wynn ran up the roadside to behind the wagon so as not to blind him. She grabbed the glasses dangling around her neck and held them over her eyes as she raised the staff’s crystal high.

“Mên Rúhk el-När ... mênajil il’Núr’u mên’Hkâ’ät!”

* * *

A blinding glare ignited behind Osha and lit up everything. Though he had his back to it, the intensity made him squint. His eyes quickly adjusted, and he spotted the whipping dark cloak down the road.

Aupsha had gained too much distance for him to catch up at a run, though she was not running while carrying the heavy trunk. That was good. Perhaps in riding the wind she could not go far with such a burden, and it now slowed her even more.

Osha needed every advantage possible, as he dared not miss, and he drew back a black-feathered arrow with its diamond-shaped Chein’âs point.

His gaze dropped from Aupsha’s swinging cloak to the clearer target of her right thigh. He did not aim along the arrow’s shaft, as only a beginner would do. He kept his eyes on his chosen target point, let his body adjust the bow’s angle by his intention, and then released the string.

Aupsha’s cry carried up the road as she fell, and the trunk tumbled from her grasp.

* * *

Sau’ilahk drove Chane toward the closest fir tree. Lower branches snapped and shattered as he rammed the maddening undead against the tree’s trunk. Chane’s eyes rolled up as bark cracked and shattered under his impact. But Sau’ilahk lost sight of his victim as branches snapped back in around him and needles cascaded down from the shuddering tree.

Feeling Chane’s grip on his left wrist falter, Sau’ilahk immediately wrenched his taloned hand free and drew it back. He could not kill an undead with mere claws, but he could slash out Chane’s eyes. Once blinded, the tall undead would flounder, and Sau’ilahk could take Chane’s head with the duke’s sword. And Wynn, in watching for her protector’s return, would see only the duke command his own guards to seize her.

And if the guards were not there, she would die even more quickly.

Burning pain suddenly shot through Sau’ilahk’s forearm. Teeth pierced his skin, and he screamed more in shock and anger than in pain.

The dog’s touch did not burn him as it once had in his spiritual form.

Sau’ilahk had to let go of Chane as Shade wrenched on his arm, and this time he cried out as his skin tore. He closed his left hand in a fist.

Branches still blocked clear sight, but he did not have to see to strike.

At the loud crack of his fist’s impact, skin on his other arm tore again. But the jaws came off, and he thrashed out of the branches to find the dog on the ground.

Her eyes were barely open where she lay slack-jawed and motionless.

One of Wynn’s precious protectors was dead. There was one more to finish before he could find her.

A hissing rasp rose out of the tree behind him. Sau’ilahk had begun to turn when a heavy weight slammed into his back and drove him face-first to the earth.

* * *

Panic and pain more than hunger fed Chane’s fury as he fell atop the duke. He had heard Shade attack, and then the duke’s grips had torn away one after the other. He had heard the deafening crack of a fist and then nothing more from Shade.

Trying to get free, the duke bucked wildly beneath him. With one hand Chane slammed the duke’s face back into the earth as he fought to keep the man pinned. Chane could feel the damage to his ribs along his back. He could not hold the duke down and still reach one of his swords. Fright and fury brought back all that happened.