“Marcus?” Rurik repeated in confusion, staring at Marcus’s naked form and complete lack of a weapon.
But then something else occurred to Amelie, something more disturbing. “Rurik . . . stay here with them. If that thing was Graham, then it must have attacked Jaromir to get out of the barn!”
She turned to run, ducking out the new “door” in the back.
“Amelie, you can’t go out there alone,” Rurik called.
“Just stay here with Céline!”
Once outside, she could already hear some of the soldiers shouting to one another, as there was now another beast loose inside the camp.
Jaromir heard the shouting and stepped out from his hay bundles. Graham had been lying on the floor and stood up.
“Sir, what is that?” Graham asked.
“I don’t know.”
Jaromir heard the barn doors opening, followed by the soft sound of running feet, and he gripped his cudgel tightly. To his amazement, Amelie came hurrying into view, barefoot but wearing her light blue dress and carrying her dagger.
She skidded to a stop at the sight of Graham tied to the stake. “It’s not him,” she panted, as if speaking to herself.
“Amelie!” Jaromir nearly shouted, wanting answers.
“There’s a soldier-wolf . . . a big one . . . loose in camp,” she managed to say while still panting. “It attacked me and Céline in our bed. I thought . . . I thought it was Graham, and that he might have killed you.”
“It attacked you in your . . .” He trailed off, looking back to Graham.
If the beast wasn’t Graham, then whoever was behind all this had changed tactics and turned someone else. That was the only explanation Jaromir could think of.
The shouts outside grew louder, and he heard Corporal Quinn in the midst. “No! Don’t let it past the perimeter! Someone stop it!”
A mix of unintelligible shouting followed, culminating in Quinn yelling, “Gods damn it! How could you let it pass?”
“It’s gotten outside the camp,” Amelie breathed. “Loose in the trees. What do we do?”
Jaromir looked at Graham. “Whenever one of these things has made it into the trees, what do they normally do?”
“They usually go straight for the miners’ encampment.”
Jaromir glanced at the blade in Amelie’s hand. “Cut him loose.”
Céline suffered a few awkward moments while Rurik clearly wondered—but was too polite to ask—what Marcus had been doing naked inside their tent, but she examined the wounds on Marcus’s chest, which were not as deep as she’d first feared. His skin was clawed, and he was in some pain, but the wounds were only superficial.
“I need to disinfect these,” she said, starting to rise.
“Not now. Later,” Marcus said, climbing to his feet with the cloak around his waist.
Rurik was standing guard in the doorway, so Céline leaned nearer to Marcus and whispered, “Where are your clothes?”
“Outside,” he answered.
“Can you slip out that new doorway in the back and get them?”
Before she’d finished speaking, he was on the move, and a few moments later, Amelie came running back in the front flap, rushing past Rurik.
“It’s not Graham,” she called, looking around and then grabbing her boots. “It’s someone else. We don’t know who yet, but it got outside the encampment.”
Céline was struck dumb by both pieces of news.
Marcus ducked back inside the torn back of the tent, wearing his breeches and pulling on his shirt. He handed back her cloak.
“What’s happened?” he asked.
“Is Jaromir all right?” Céline asked almost at the same time, finding her voice.
“He’s fine,” Amelie answered, pulling on her boots, “but he’s moving everyone over to the miners’ encampment so we can protect those people while we start forming hunting parties.”
Marcus was listening intently; then he glanced at the front tent flap.
“Go,” Céline told him. “Hurry. We’ll meet you over there.” She reached down for her own boots.
Jaromir had both Graham and Quinn at his side as he strode through the tents, sounding a full-scale alarm and calling out orders that everyone was moving to the miners’ camp to protect the civilians.
“We’ll need a few men to get a stretcher and carry the captain over,” Quinn said. “I left him alone in his tent. I didn’t have a choice.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Jaromir answered. “Use anyone you need.”
All the Pählen soldiers responded quickly. Some had been asleep, but they were all soon running toward the path to the miners’ camp, and once again, they appeared relieved at the prospect of an officer having taken charge. So far, no one had reacted to Graham’s presence, as if they’d also come to expect the unexpected and nothing surprised them anymore. Jaromir still had no idea which of the soldiers was missing or what poor soul they would soon be hunting.
“Jaromir!” Céline called from somewhere behind him.
Stopping, he looked back to see her, Amelie, and Rurik jogging toward him. Rurik carried a sword. Céline wore her red cloak, but Amelie must not have bothered and wore only her blue dress and boots. He waited for them to catch up, and they all pressed onward down the path through the trees, emerging on the side of the miners’ camp. A number of Móndyalítko and miners were outside their dwellings, asking the soldiers for information.
Jaromir briefly considered ordering them all back inside their dwellings but decided that could take too much time if they refused. He would do better to get a perimeter guard set up and then form at least two hunting parties.
“We didn’t bring enough spears,” Quinn said suddenly, looking around, gripping a single tall spear in his right hand. “Over half the men were asleep, and they just came running when we called. I’ll need to go back to the weapons’ supply and bring more.”
With his mouth pursed in thought, he glanced down at Amelie.
“I’ll come and help,” she said. “You can’t carry enough by yourself.”
Jaromir turned on her and was about to order her into one of the wagons, but then he saw her face. She was staring back at him with an angry, almost hurt, challenge.
“I can help,” she bit off.
His mind flashed back to the sight of her swinging the butt of a spear down on the last wolf’s head—and then swinging down twice more. She wasn’t a child and didn’t deserve to be treated like one. He could give her at least that much.
“Go,” he said, handing her his cudgel. “Take this for the trip over.”
Her eyes flickered, but she took the weapon and didn’t hesitate to start after Quinn when he trotted back toward the path.
Though Jaromir felt a flash of unwanted fear in his chest, along with a desire to grab her from behind, lift her off the ground, and order her into a wagon, he bit the inside of his mouth and turned back to the camp. Amelie couldn’t stand to feel useless, and he knew it.
Besides, he had people to protect here, soldiers to organize . . . and an unnatural wolf to hunt down.
Trotting behind Quinn, Amelie took two steps to his one, but she knew he was in a hurry. She wasn’t afraid. He looked as strong and fast as Jaromir, and she had a feeling he knew how to use that spear. She had the cudgel, which was good for close-quarters fighting. Between the two of them, she was certain they could handle anything that came their way.
And, though she kept pushing the feeling down, she was grateful to Jaromir for letting her take her place among the soldiers in helping to protect the Móndyalítko families and other miners.
“Where are the extra weapons stored?” she panted, trying to keep up.