Page 35 of Winter's Echo
Selfishly, I hoped they never were. I already knew I couldn’t beat them.
We moved slowly. The wounded were shifted onto the wagons with more care than speed, their groans swallowed by the wind that was picking up. I pushed toward the tree line, keeping us angled slightly, keeping the wind at our back as I followed the natural dip I’d seen earlier.
The area I led them to wasn’t safe. Nowhere out here was safe, but it would do. I knew one of the men had his handswrapped around his companion's leg, stemming the blood loss as much as possible.
“Here,” I said at last, stopping where the trees curved in tighter, their branches heavy enough to break the worst of the wind. The snow here was deep, but there was little fresh powder, so it wasn’t too soft.
“Set them down there,” I instructed, pointing to the left where the ground flattened slightly. “Keep them out of the direct wind.”
Captain Marson relayed the order without question, too tired to question my reasoning.
I moved through the space as they worked, keeping my eyes on the ground behind us and around us.
“Don’t crowd too close,” I called. “You want room if you need to move fast.”
Gralen shot me a look but kept his mouth shut.
Larana disappeared briefly into the trees, circling the clearing’s edge. When she returned, she nodded briefly to Baxley. Was she telling him it was clear? I could have told them it wouldn’t matter. It could go from safe to dangerous as easily as breathing.
I crouched near one of the injured men as a soldier pressed a cloth to his side. Blood soaked through it too quickly.
“Hold that higher,” I said, adjusting his grip. “You’re letting it pool.”
The man hissed through his teeth but did as I said.
I hadn’t lied. I wasn’t a healer, but I had covered and bound more wounds than any girl my age who wasn’t one.
“I need a small fire,” I told the soldier who’d set last night’s fire. “I need it small, and I need it now.”
The horses were tied between two thick trunks where the wind barely touched them. The wagons remained attached, andI checked each one in turn, running a hand down their necks and watching for signs of panic.
“Only a small fire?” The question came from one of the younger soldiers, his voice tight with cold.
“Yes,” I said immediately. “It’s not for us.” I jerked my chin toward the wagon where the four injured soldiers rested. “It’s for the bleeders.”
He blinked. “But?—”
“No fire,” I repeated more sharply. “Not unless you want everyone in this area to know exactly where we are.” I paid close attention to him. “Smell the air,” I told him bluntly. “You think we’re the only ones out here who can smell blood? Every predator and scavenger is running here, drawn by the scent. Let’s not turnusinto their next meal.”
He swallowed whatever argument he’d been about to make.
“You can survive this cold,” I reminded him. “Their attention? I wouldn’t bet on it, not today.”
I straightened, scanning the edges of the area again. The light — what little there was — had dimmed further, the gray deepening toward something closer to night.
Time moved differently out here. Slower, yet never slow enough.
Baxley stepped into my line of sight, his expression unreadable as ever.
“What else do you need?” he asked, watching me put my dagger into the base of the fire.
I almost protested and told him it wasn’t my job, but I didn’t. “Might need an axe, and a strong hand when the time comes,” I admitted quietly, refusing to look at the wagon.
He nodded once, and that was enough.
Chapter 9
Larana leanedagainst one of the trees, arms folded, watching the soldiers with open disinterest. Her blade rested across her thigh, already clean.
