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More than all that, Neil had learned to his chagrin that few people in the world were what they seemed.

Something dangerous glinted in Cazio’s eyes, and he stood straighter, then put his palm on the hilt of his sword. Neil took a deep breath and dropped his hand toward Draug.

“Believe him,” Aspar grunted.

“Asp? You?” Winna said.

“Werlic. There were three of ’em, at least. Why do you think I didn’t make it back to warn you about the ambush? They aren’t invisible, not exactly, but it’s as the lad said. They’re like smoke, and you can see through ’em. If you know where to look, you can tell they’re there, but if you don’t, they can give you quite a surprise.

“The other thing is, if you kill ’em, they come solid again, them and their mounts, even if the mounts aren’t scratched. Near as I can tell—their trick aside—they’re just men.”

Stephen frowned. “That reminds me of—I read about a faneway once…” He scratched his jaw, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“More churchmen,” Aspar grunted. “Just what we need.”

Cazio was still tense, focused on Neil, hand on the hilt of his weapon. “Apologies,” Neil told the swordsman. “Persnimo. I am overwrought and jumped to conclusions.”

Cazio relaxed a bit and nodded.

“Holter White,” Neil asked, “do these invisible men leave tracks?”

“Yah.”

“Then let’s kill those fellows over there and find our queen.”

Their attackers had left more than two groups of defenders in their path, that became clear.

Another few hundred pereci from where they found the knight, they ran into another bunch, though these were fewer in number. They didn’t last long, but Aspar warned them to expect more up ahead.

Cazio was reminded of the nursery tale about a boy, lost in the forest, who came upon a grand triva. The triva turned out to be the home of a three-headed ogre who caught the boy and planned to eat him. Instead, the ogre’s daughter took a liking to him and helped him escape.

Together they fled, pursued by the father, who was faster and soon caught up to them. The girl had her own tricks, though. She threw a comb behind them, and it became a hedge through which the ogre was forced to tear. She flung down a wineskin, which became a river…

“What are you thinking about?”

Cazio realized with a start that the priest was only a few paces away. Stephen spoke Vitellian, and though he sounded very old-fashioned, it was a relief to be able to talk without so much thinking.

“Combs and hedges, wineskins and rivers,” he said mysteriously.

Stephen quirked a smile. “So we’re the ogre?”

Cazio blinked. He’d thought he was being mysterious.

“You think too quickly,” he commented wryly.

“I walked the faneway of Saint Decmanus,” Stephen replied. “I can’t help it—the saint blessed me.” He stopped and smiled. “I’ll bet your version of the story is different from the one I know. Does the boy’s brother kill the ogre in the end?”

“No, he leads it to a church, and the attish sacritor slays it by ringing the clock three times.”

“Oh, now that’s very interesting,” Stephen said, and he seemed to mean it.

“If you insist,” Cazio granted. “In any event, yes, we’re all turned around. It’s the ogre we’re pursuing, and he’s the one leaving obstacles. But I wonder why.

“Up until now they’ve been trying to kill Anne. The knights who pursued us never made any effort to capture her alive. But if these melcheos had wanted to kill her, they could have done it easily, when they caught me napping.” He gingerly touched the wound on his head.

“At least you saw him for a second,” Stephen said. “I didn’t even catch a glimpse of the one who took Austra. Really, it’s not your fault.”

“Of course it is,” Cazio insisted, waving away the absolution. “I was with her—and I’ll get her back. And if they’ve harmed her, I’ll kill every last one of the purcapercators.

“But that still doesn’t answer my question. Why didn’t they just murder her?”

“There could be any number of reasons,” Stephen said. “The priests back in Dunmrogh wanted her blood for a ritual sacrifice—”

“Yes, but that was only because they needed a woman of noble birth, and the one they had was killed. Besides, we stopped that business.”

“It might not be the same business. We prevented the enemy once, but there are many more cursed faneways in this forest, and I’m willing to bet that there are more renegades trying to awaken them. Each faneway is particular, with its own gift—or curse. Maybe they need the blood of a princess again.”

“The men in Dunmrogh were mostly churchmen and knights from Hansa. I’ve seen neither in this group we’re facing now.”

Stephen shrugged. “But we’ve fought foes like this before, before we met you. There were monks involved then, too, and men without any identifiable standard or nation. Even Sefry.”

“Then the enemy isn’t the Church?”

“We don’t know who the enemy is, ultimately,” Stephen admitted. “The Hanzish knights and churchmen at Dunmrogh had the same dark goals as the men Aspar and Winna and I fought before—not far from here, in fact. We think they’re all taking their commands from the praifec in Crotheny, Marché Hespero. But for all we know, he’s taking his orders from someone else altogether.”

“What do they all want?”

Stephen chuckled bitterly. “As far as we can tell, to waken a very ancient and potent evil.”

“Why?”

“For power, I suppose. I can’t genuinely say. But these men attacking us now? I don’t know what they want. You’re right; they seem different. Maybe they’re in the employ of the usurper.”

“Anne’s uncle?” Cazio thought that was who Stephen meant. In truth, the whole situation was a bit confusing.

“Right,” Stephen confirmed. “He might still have reason to want her kept alive.”

“Well, I hope so,” Cazio said.

“You have feelings for her?” Stephen asked.

“I am her protector,” Cazio said, a little irritated by the question.

“No more than that?”

“No. No more.”

“Because it seems as if—”

Nothing.” Cazio asserted. “I befriended her before I knew who she was. And besides, this is none of your business.”

“No, I suppose it isn’t,” Stephen said. “Look, I’m sure she and her maid—”

“Austra.”

Stephen’s eyebrow lifted, and he quirked an annoying little smile. “Austra,” he repeated. “We’ll find them, Cazio. You see that man up there?”

“Aspar? The woodsman?”

“Yes. He can follow any trail; I can personally guarantee it.”

Cazio noted that light flakes were falling from the sky again.

“Even in this?” he asked.

“In anything,” Stephen said.

Cazio nodded. “Good.”

They rode along in silence for a moment.

“How did you meet the princess?” Stephen asked.

Cazio felt a smile stretch his lips. “I am from Avella, you know? It’s a town in the Tero Mefio. My father was a nobleman, but he was killed in a duel and didn’t leave me much. Just a house in Avella and z’Acatto.”

“The old man we left in Dunmrogh?”

“Yes. My swordmaster.”

“You must miss him.”

“He’s a drunken, overbearing, arrogant—Yes, I miss him. I wish he were here now.” He shook his head. “But Anne—z’Acatto and I went to visit a friend in the country—the countess Orchaevia—to take some air. As it happened, her triva and estates were near the Coven Saint Cer.