“Amaranthe, are you all right?” Books scrambled out of the cab and looked her up and down.
The lorry had stopped, and the men piled into the back.
Maldynado put a hand on her shoulder. “Did you get gouged?”
As they surrounded her, Sicarius backed away. He retrieved his dagger with a yank.
“I’m fine.” She lifted her hands. “It jumped at Sicarius, not me. It came out of nowhere. Well, actually it came out of those trees over there.”
Even as she pointed that direction, Sicarius hopped to the ground and headed into the forest.
“More crazy glowy-eyed creatures?” Maldynado nudged the dead cougar. “Guess that means we’re heading the right direction.”
Amaranthe picked up the towel and wiped the blood off her hands. “So you’re saying this attack is good news, eh?”
“Maybe?”
“Let’s get this critter out of here,” she said. “Then you boys can fight over who gets to help me clean.”
They groaned in unison, all except Akstyr, who held up his book. “Not me, I’m on an extra important section. Need to keep studying.”
“I’m going to start learning magic so I can get out of work all the time,” Maldynado said.
“When do you do work as it is?” Books asked.
Amidst more sniping, the men rolled the cougar over the side and off into a ditch. Amaranthe risked Maldynado’s ire by using a bottle of his “safe water” for washing away blood. She paused. Blood stained the corner of the towel Sicarius had been using for weapons cleaning, and it held a faint glow.
At this point, she was not surprised, but she wondered again at the effects on people in the city, people who might still be drinking the water. Were these creatures worse off because they were closer to the source where the concentration might be denser? Or did these strange symptoms represent prolonged exposure?
Sicarius reappeared. “There’s nothing else in the forest, but there’s a road up ahead that isn’t on the map.”
They climbed back into the lorry and drove a quarter of a mile to a gravel lane veering to the right. A chain dangled between mossy posts on either side, and a rusty metal sign read: LOGGING CAMP.
“Could be nothing,” Amaranthe said.
“Could be a logging camp,” Akstyr said.
“A vehicle passed this way recently.” Sicarius, who had remained on foot, pointed to a muddy divot in the ground.
“Might as well check it out,” Amaranthe said.
Sicarius picked the lock on the chain, and the lorry turned onto the gravel road.
Overgrown branches slapped the cab and clawed at the sides. Amaranthe, sitting in the back, ducked frequently to keep pine-needle brushes from combing her hair. Sicarius did not return to the lorry. The bumpy road forced a slow pace, and he trotted ahead, sometimes in sight, sometimes not.
Miles rolled past. Amaranthe finished scrubbing the blood off the floor of the bed, tidied the gear, and loaded her weapons. As she worked, she tried to keep a watch on the woods as well, not sure what creature might leap out at them next.
Sicarius sprinted back to the lorry, arm raised for them to stop. The steam brakes squealed. Amaranthe grabbed the side to keep from being hurled on top of the gear.
“What’s wrong?” She jumped to the ground.
“There’s a lake ahead, and your soldiers are camped alongside it.” Sicarius’s gaze shifted to the black plumes of smoke rising from the lorry’s stack.
Amaranthe winced. The smoke probably wafted above the tree canopy. “Think they’ve spotted us?”
“If their man on watch is conscious,” Sicarius said.
“So there’s hope they haven’t?”
“Depends on whether the enforcers are in charge or the soldiers.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “Was that a slur against enforcers?”
The men had joined them on the ground, and Maldynado leaned an elbow on her shoulder. “Motley lot. Good thing you’re not one of them any more.”
Sicarius glared at him. Maldynado removed his elbow.
“Park over there and cut off the engine,” Amaranthe said. “Everyone, grab your gear. We’ll take a roundabout route through the forest to get to the lake. Sicarius, lead please. Basilard, can you cover our trail?”
Basilard rubbed his head dubiously. Maldynado, Books, and Akstyr leave trail like marching army.
“Do your best,” she said, delighted he had not lumped her in with them.
The swiftness with which her team prepared and departed made her proud. Though they chatted-bickered-a lot, they were developing an efficient, professional streak.
Maldynado paused to pee on a fern, not bothering to turn his back or give himself any privacy.
“There’s a lady here, you crude troglodyte,” Books said.
“I know. That’s why I’m displaying my wares.” Maldynado winked at Amaranthe.
She sighed and amended her earlier thought. Her team might be efficient, but the term “professional” was a stretch.
Walking through the forest without the benefit of a trail proved more difficult than her city-raised mind had thought. Verdant underbrush and brambles clogged the ground between the trees. Branches protruded in every direction, snagging at her weapons and rucksack. Invisible strands of something-spider webs?-stretched across every other gap and stuck to her face.
A squirrel reared on an overhead branch and chattered at them.
Basilard thumped Akstyr on the chest, pointed at it, and signed: Watch out.
Akstyr scowled. “Not funny.”
Basilard grinned.
“What’s your sign for shut up?” Akstyr asked.
“Quiet,” Sicarius said.
He lifted a hand and stopped. Everyone hunkered down. Voices grew audible on the road behind them. They belonged to men, but distance muddled the words.
Though it would have been better not to have their vehicle discovered, Amaranthe was almost happy to hear the soldiers. Their presence validated her choice to take this arduous route.
The conversation continued for a while. They must have reached the lorry and were deciding what to do. Amaranthe’s thighs started to burn from crouching down. Sicarius could have continued on without making a noise, and perhaps Basilard as well, but she figured the group should remain still until the men left.
“Well, someone’s here,” one voice said, loudly and distinctly.
The other answered in a hushed tone.
As Amaranthe listened to the men, she wondered where the enforcer woman was and if she was in charge. She had enough rank to be the leader of the enforcer mission, but surely the soldiers would not obey her. They never would have obeyed Amaranthe anyway. She rolled her eyes at her thoughts. She should wait until she actually met the woman before growing jealous of her.
The voices faded. After a few moments, Sicarius waved for her team to continue.
Thanks to the absence of trails, it took an hour to push through to the lake where the trees gave way to reeds and marsh. A blue heron standing on one leg turned a malevolent glowing eye upon them. Amaranthe touched the hilt of her sword, but the creature did not attack.
“Guess this is the right place.” Maldynado nodded toward the leggy bird.
Beyond the wetlands, a blue lake gleamed beneath the afternoon sun. Steep, valley slopes marked the northern and eastern boundaries while, to the south, a massive gray concrete wall stretched. A watch tower rose on either end. If men observed from within, Amaranthe could not see them. The roar of water drifted from beyond the wall.
“Waterton Dam?” she guessed.
“This is not on the map.” Books sounded affronted, as if he could not believe some cartographer had betrayed his integrity to misrepresent the mountain.
“The camp is over there.” Sicarius pointed toward a tree-filled peninsula between them and the dam. If the road they had been following had continued on straight, it would have come out there.