Ironhide sighed. "Like a spark upon dead grass, so is the temper of a young man. I hate when he does that. Now I have to go back and pick up his things."
They did not see Nando for much of the day, though Nyori was sure Ironhide could point him out at any time he wished. As the hours dragged, she found that she couldn't shake the feeling of menace that breathed down her neck. Ironhide was unusually silent, an indicator that he felt it too. As he jogged alongside Lively, his eyes darted from side to side. Nyori could almost see his ears prick, alert for any sound out of the ordinary. He kept an arrow nocked as well, ready to loose at a moment's notice. Nyori wanted to assure him that there was no reason to expect trouble, but she knew that would be a lie. The feeling of unseen eyes rattled her. She looked up. They had reached the foothills of the Dragonspine; its rocky peaks loomed threateningly over them.
It lived up to its reputation. Nyori had heard the tales, and all agreed that there were no mountains more synonymous with sudden death than the Dragonspine with its treacherous paths, pitfalls, and crumbling precipices. Not to mention the tales of strange beasts and creatures rumored to lurk in its passes, all craving the flesh of men. She understood why it had served as the main impasse against the fierce Bruallians for ages, far more efficient than any border guard or wall could ever be at keeping their armies at bay.
This is where I'm supposed to go for safety?
"Faster." Ironhide seized Lively's bridle, bringing her to full gallop as he loped easily alongside.
"Toward the mountains? What's the matter? Did Nando—?"
"Faster." Ironhide's long hair flailed behind him as he matched the horse stride for stride. Nyori felt Lively's muscles churn as though the mare shared Ironhide's awareness of the unseen threat.
"Ironhide, what is it?" The wind snatched the words away as she spoke, but he heard them anyway. "I…I'm not sure if I can find the trail. We have to slow down."
"It's too late for that now."
Her heart pounded wildly. "Why? Why is it too late?"
His eyes caught hers. She could not hear his words, but she read his lips.
"They are hunting us."
Her first thought was of Rhanu and his band, but in her mind she knew better. When she turned, tall grass rocked back and forth for miles. There was nothing visible. And yet, she knew there was something out there. Something dreadful, inhuman. Something that wanted them dead.
Ironhide pulled Lively to a stop and easily lifted Nyori out of the saddle, despite her protests. "What are you doing?"
He ignored her as he removed the saddlebags. "We have to climb. The horse cannot go with us."
"Are you jesting? I won't leave Lively alone out here! If something's hunting us, she'll be lost or killed." Nyori heard her voice rise almost hysterically, but couldn't stop.
Ironhide placidly disregarded her. "A horse knows its way home. If she's lucky, they won't bother following her. If we're lucky, they will." He threw the saddlebags over his shoulder and handed her his bow and quiver. "You'll have to carry these for me."
She slung the quiver over her back. It weighed more than she expected. She held the bow awkwardly. It was a hunting tool, a killing weapon. It felt crude and ugly in her hands. Sanctity of life was the first thing stressed to her since the day she took her vows as a Shama.
"What, Ironhide? What is it that hunts us?"
"Akhkharu."
He slapped Lively on the rump. The mare sped off with a startled neigh. Her mane rustled as her powerful legs took her away from Nyori faster than she would have thought possible. It was like watching a dream fade. The pack mule brayed and took off behind Lively, leaving Ironhide and Nyori behind.
She took a deep breath to control herself, holding her tears captive as they tried to escape. Ironhide gazed at her, unwanted sympathy on his face. She would not cry in front of him.
"You're talking about a child's tale." The statement was automatic, even though she knew it for a lie. Ayna had warned her.
"It is no tale that comes for us, Shama," Ironhide said. "We must disappear into the mountains or perish."
"But what of Nando? Are we to leave him behind?"
Ironhide scanned the grasses. "That is who we wait for."
When Nyori turned, Nando was back in his human form, running across the plains as though from a raging fire. She still saw nothing behind him. Normally the fact that he was naked would have distracted her somewhat. But what she beheld on his face as he drew nearer distressed her. It was something she had never seen from him before.
Fear.
Though sweat dampened his dark hair and slicked his bare chest, he did not appear to be out of breath as he joined them at the base of the mountain range. He caught the clothes Ironhide tossed him and turned slightly as he quickly yanked on his breeches. "I don't know what foolishness my sister has you caught up in, but you should realize it has become much more dangerous. Someone does not want you to have success on your mission. You should never have left Halladen."
"But no one knew," she said. "We left in secret." The words tasted false as soon as she uttered them. She remembered what Mistress Ayna had told her.
The akhkharu have eyes everywhere. There are ears that listen from the shadows.
"The only true secret is the one unspoken," Ironhide said, echoing her thoughts. He took the weapons from her and handed them to Nando. "We can talk that over if we live through the night. For now, we must become as phantoms in darkness." He looked to the horizon. "Our enemies approach."
This time, against the fiery eye of the setting sun, she saw them. Silhouettes on horseback so far away to be barely visible. The fading sunlight glinted on their figures as though they were heavily armored. Catching sight of them caused her throat to tighten as though seized by a desperate hand. For even at that distance she was sure they looked at her; the menace in their intent buffeted her like the wind before a storm.
Ironhide took her by the arm and led her into the shadows of the mountains. The ascent was not an easy one. It may have been her imagination stirred by the pursuit, but the mountains seemed to resist being climbed. She lost count of how many times she slipped. Her hands were soon raw and throbbed from scrapes, and her dress torn and dirtied from the sharp edges of the dark stone as they followed an old goat trail. One that must have killed the goats foolish enough to brave it.
At first it seemed their flight was random, but she felt a pull at times, a beckoning finger in her mind that spoke to her as surely as a whispered voice. She let the certainty of knowing direct them. At times they hugged the stone above a sheer drop in unending blackness, other times seemingly solid rock crumpled underneath them like soft sand. Ironhide and Nando never batted an eye, never slipped, as sure on their feet as if they'd been born in those mountains. It was only she that stumbled, that slid, that needed to be hauled up like a sack of oats. A few hours of their suicidal flight exhausted her completely.
Surprisingly it was Nando that spoke for her. "She must rest. She cannot hold out much longer."
Ironhide never paused. "We can all rest when we're dead. We dare not stop more than a few minutes at most, and even that will cost us dearly."
"How can they find us in here?" She panted and leaned against the rock face for support. "They are too far back to even see—"
With a dull thud, an arrow struck the stone only inches from her face. She stared at it with paralyzed fascination as it quivered from the force.
"There." Nando pointed. It was almost dark, but because the figures wore white, she could see them far below. It was impossible for them to have caught up so quickly. It was impossible to fire an arrow that distance. The pursuers clambered up the trail as though borne on wings, with a grace that made Ironhide and Nando look tired and clumsy by comparison.