Page 38 of Winter's Echo
I gulped. “Snow wolves? A pack? How many?” I pushed to my feet. “They smell us, and they’ll want their dinner fresher, especially him.” I nodded to the wagon.
“Nicco counted eight.”
“Shit.” I moved to the fire and stomped it out, taking in the sight of the camp. “Captain? We need to move, and we need to move now.”
“For wolves?” Larana was at my side, having moved with me.
“They’re not just wolves,” I growled, grabbing my pack and slipping it over my shoulder. I turned to Nicco, who was now watching me. “They’re about this high,” I said, dropping my hand to my hip. “And moving justtoosmoothly over the snow?”
He frowned but nodded.
“Drift Wolves,” I told them. “Wrap him up. I don’t want a hint of that burn escaping that cloth. They scent him, they’ll track him, andus, to Iskaeld and probably beyond.” I looked at the wagons. “Unhitch the wagons, they won’t make it. I need a carrier for him, and two of you to carry it.”
The captain looked at me with concern. “We’re going through?”
“The only way to deal with them if they follow is to split the pack and fight them one by one.” I raised my hands. “Do you want to lose anyone else, or do you want to trust me?”
The captain held my gaze, then turned and barked out the orders.
“We could leave him.”
I turned to look at Nicco, my eyes wide. “What?” He didn’t look sorry that he made the suggestion. IknewI disliked him for a reason. “While he still has a chance to live, let’s not throw him aside.”
He shrugged and sighed. “Fine. Let’s move.” He met my gaze. “But when he dies anyway, I won’t say I told you so.”
Larana and Baxley were already waiting. The captain and his men took a little bit longer, and I ignored them all as I watched the movement to our flank.
HulgrimandDrift Wolves. What had I agreed to when I said I would be their trailfinder? Every nightmare that lived in thisdamn land was coming out to greet us. I’d walked this land for four years;whywere they emerging now?
“Amarya, we’re ready,” the captain called softly.
I walked to the front, trusting the soldiers behind me to take care of the horses.
“Same rules,” I told them all as I walked forward. “Do what I say, when I say it, as soon as I say it.” I pulled my cloak over my hair. “No matter what it might look like, we’re not the only ones here.”
“Pep talks aren’t her thing either,” someone muttered behind me, and I heard the thud as someone hit them to shut them up.
“She’s the only reason only two of us are goners,” someone else pointed out, and I was unsure who it was.
“Is she?” the first one muttered. “I’d say the reason we aren’t all in pieces out there is because of those three.”
I had to agree with him. I had done nothing in the fight against the Hulgrim. All I’d done was save someone’s leg. Maybe their life. Now I was dragging them through the density of the trees in the hope that the Drift Wolves didn’t follow us and stayed distracted with the recent deaths of the two Hulgrim.
I pulled my hood lower, keeping my eyes on the ground in front of me. I searched for animal tracks in the woods. Every now and then, snow from the branches above would fall, either wiping out any tracks or making us even colder.
As gray became black, I kept them moving. When the captain asked me if we could have a torch, I said no.
I could see in this light. Most of the people from Crystallese had excellent night vision. We lived in a land where it was determined to be dark and gloomy.
As true night fell, I pulled the moonstones from my pack. I turned to the two chatterboxes behind me, who seemed to think that just being a few feet in front of them meant I couldn’t hear them.
“Lose them, and I’ll cut something of yours off,” I warned as I passed them one. “Take one, pass the others back. Same warning.”
The one nearest me nodded, and I turned back.
I used the light of the precious stone to guide me. I’d been given them as payment once — five stones that, to me, were worth more than simple gold. They gave me light when it was darkest. And right now, I needed a way out of this darkness.
We walked for most of the night. I ignored the mumbles of protest, the sighs, the yawns, and the whimpers from the injured.
