Wordlessly, Rurik nodded, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off Jaromir.
Then, as her head cleared further, Céline began remembering the more detailed content of her vision.
“Jaromir . . . when Prince Lieven asked for the name of the one responsible for all the deaths here, Rurik told him it was Quinn.”
Jaromir turned his gaze from Rurik to Céline.
“What did you say?”
“It’s Quinn! Or that is what Rurik was telling Lieven. Amelie is alone with him!”
Rurik was looking back and forth between them in confusion, but Jaromir didn’t care.
He had to think.
His instincts told him that Rurik was no traitor. Something would have to be done about him, but he wasn’t a traitor . . . and Amelie was alone with a killer.
“Rurik, you stay here and make sure the perimeter holds,” he ordered. “Céline, get those people inside. I’m going for Amelie.”
Without waiting for a response from either of them, he turned and bolted for the path.
Amelie almost couldn’t believe it when she reached the tree line without being caught from behind. She hadn’t even heard Quinn coming after her, and she wondered if the rock might have dazed him.
However, now, peering out from the brush into the open camp, she thought that making a run for the path to the miners’ encampment would be foolish. It was possible that Quinn had lost her trail and was watching from somewhere along the tree line as well, waiting for her to emerge. Although he claimed to be a good tracker, she wasn’t bleeding and it was dark. If she’d gotten a decent head start, there might have been little for him to track.
But he could still be watching for her, and if so, she’d never outrun him all the way to the path.
Looking straight ahead, she saw the front entrance to the huge provisions tent. It was a short run, and there were crossbows and quarrels in there—somewhere along the east wall. She crouched, took a deep breath, and sprinted, running as fast as she could for the open front flap and dashing inside.
Only then did she turn to peek back around the side and see if she was pursued. Again, she was caught in near disbelief. Where was he? He’d struck her as . . . determined.
A crashing sound echoed from within a few paces of where she’d emerged, and Quinn stumbled from the forest, carrying his spear and bleeding from his head. He looked both ways and then fixed on the provisions tent, breaking into a jog straight for the entrance.
Except for a general direction—the east wall—Amelie didn’t know precisely where the weapons were stored in here, and Quinn was coming.
Surrounded by barrels and stacks of crates, she came to a fast decision, the only one she could think of. Moving deeper into the tent and down a row of crates, she dropped low and hid herself.
Hopefully, Quinn would run in, go straight for the weapons, believe she was not here, and then run out again, looking for her.
After that . . . she’d have a few options.
Footsteps pounded through the entrance, and she could hear him breathing hard.
After Jaromir ran off, Céline stood facing Rurik, but he wouldn’t look at her. His hands were shaking, and it was possible that he blamed her for what had just happened. In a way, she understood.
But she was a good deal more worried about Amelie and hoped that Jaromir would reach her quickly. How could the killer be Quinn? He’d been the only one here in whom Jaromir had placed any confidence.
“Rurik?” Céline asked, hoping he would still be willing to work with her.
Just then, Guardsman Graham came jogging up, carrying a spear, and he appeared distraught.
“What is it?” Céline asked. She didn’t hear a disturbance anywhere.
“I . . . I’ve been searching,” Graham answered, “and all the men are accounted for except Saunders. He’s the only one missing.”
Something occurred to Céline. “Was he on guard near our tent tonight?”
Graham nodded miserably, and Céline felt for him. If the new soldier-wolf was Saunders, that meant poor Graham had lost both his friends.
Rurik glanced at her first and then Graham in sympathy. He seemed to understand the implications as well.
“I’m sorry, Graham,” he said. “But the lieutenant left us with orders, and he was right about those civilians. I’m going to check the perimeter. Céline, you try to get those people back inside their homes and tell them to bar the doors.”
“Yes,” she answered, stepping away. “Graham, why don’t you come and help me? I think some of the miners must know you.”
She was trying to give him an occupation, but the tactic worked, and he fell into step beside her. They went to the Móndyalítko wagons first, as she thought she might gain help from Mercedes in getting their people indoors.
Marcus was nowhere in sight, but nearly all the other Móndyalítko were outside, looking around. Several of them were armed and surrounding their few children. Perhaps they had not had good luck in the past by shutting themselves away and leaving the fighting to the soldiers.
“Mercedes,” Céline said, hurrying up. “We really should get the children inside. It’s not safe for them out here.”
“Do you think those soldiers can keep that beast out?”
“I think they have a good chance.”
Finally, Mercedes nodded and walked over to the group of armed men. Céline looked around and saw Mariah standing off by herself, staring into the forest.
Céline went to her and said gently, “Mariah, come inside.”
The girl didn’t move or look away from the trees. “They burned Sullian’s body,” she whispered.
The sorrow in her voice was heartbreaking, leaving Céline puzzled. “You liked Sullian?”
“He was kind.” Mariah nodded slowly. “And they burned him.”
Céline could not begin to imagine all that this poor girl had suffered, but at the moment, she wanted to get Mariah inside a wagon.
“Come with me. Please.”
Mariah’s head turned slightly as Marcus came jogging out of the north-side forest. He was still barefoot with his shirt hanging loose over the top of his breeches. There were dark spots on the front of his shirt from the claw marks on his chest, and Céline wondered how badly they were bleeding. She wished she’d thought to bring her box.
He jogged right up to them. “I’ve done a full sweep above us, and I’ve seen no sign of the beast.”
Coming to a decision, Céline leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “We know who is responsible now, so we should be able to stop it from happening again.”
His black eyes fixed on her face.
Just then, a soldier on the west side of the perimeter screamed.
Jaromir ran through the Pählen camp straight for the provisions tent. He barely slowed down as he passed through the front flap, but he knew the weapons were stored in racks along the east wall, and so he jogged through rows of barrels and crates, emerging in a more open area.
There . . . he came to a stop at the sight of Quinn casting around wildly with a spear in one hand and a dagger in the other. He was bleeding from the head.
Amelie was nowhere to be seen.
A cold fear filled Jaromir’s stomach, but he fought to keep his face calm.
“Lieutenant,” Quinn said.
“What’s happened?” Jaromir asked, as if he knew nothing. “Where’s Amelie?”
Quinn used the back of his dagger hand to wipe some of the blood off his forehead as Jaromir approached.
“The beast attacked us on the way, and we became separated,” Quinn answered.
“And you just abandoned her and came in here?”
“I thought to come in here for more weapons, and then I would look for her.” He glanced about nervously.