Tanin and Mohani stirred awake at dawn. Iona was up and watching some distant point in the woods.

“Orrock is coming, Tanin Fell. He is coming this way.”

“Do you think he’s coming to stop us?” Tanin said to Mohani.

Mohani rose and rolled her shoulders. “I would very much like him to try.”

She had spoken little the night before when they found one another again; merely a quick “I am with you,” and that was that. Tanin didn’t argue; the Agnise’s tone made it clear he was not to question her, so he did not. His silence did nothing to quell his curiosity, though.

And now here came the monk? Where had he been all night? Tanin didn’t know whether to hide, prepare to make a stand, or call his name to guide him.

The Guar needed no guidance. Orrock appeared moments later, pushing aside a great green plant. His eyes were clearly tired, though Tanin sensed strength remaining in his limbs.

“You are not easy to find in the darkness.”

“We were not asking to be found, monk.” The Agnise jerked her head. “Your mission is that way.”

Orrock stepped around her to view Tanin, who had not yet risen from his quilt. “I will join you, if you will have me.”

Tanin sat up. “Why? Is that what Anyi told you to do?”

“Yes. But that is not your concern. I will protect you. I will serve you.”

“Even if it costs you your life?”

“If Anyi wills it.”

Tanin sneered and got to his feet. “There is no holy creator, Guar.”

Orrock met his gaze evenly—perhaps, Tanin thought, even with something of a smile on his broad face. “Be that as it may. I am yours if you will have me.”

Mohani stepped nearer, grinning. “Are you mine if I want you?”

“No,” Orrock said, not looking at her.

The Agnise shrugged. “We will see.”

Mohani sprang with a roar. She wrapped Orrock in her arms and took him to the ground several lengths away from Tanin. The pair of them wrestled and shouted, smashing into trees and crushing fallen leaves.

Tanin turned to Iona, who sat on a fallen log with a dim smile on her face, watching the battle. Her arms had grown to the elbow.

“Something to eat?” he said over the protestations of the two creatures fighting nearby.

“Yes, Tanin Fell. I would enjoy that.”

* * *

They made relatively good time that day considering Orrock’s limp and Mohani’s wounded arm; their combat had gone on throughout Tanin and Iona’s breakfast, ending only when Orrock at last managed to overwhelm one of Mohani’s holds. The fight left both combatants bruised and mildly bloody, but nothing critical. Orrock walked with exhausted frustration while Mohani grinned most of the day, apparently pleased with her performance and confiding—loudly—to Tanin and Iona that she was wearing the monk down.

They camped as night fell. Orrock climbed a tall tree nearby while the others prepared his salted dragon meat. He descended only after a long time, sitting on the opposite side of the fire from Mohani, between Tanin and Iona.

“Find a good place to hide tonight while you were up there?” Mohani said.

“I was reading the stars,” Orrock proclaimed, then added, “Also, yes.”

He took some meat from the fire as the others shared smiles.

“If I am correct about our position, then the Charic should be coming to a great canyon soon,” the Guar went on. “They will have to decide whether to breach it or go around it. Either way it will slow them down. If we travel north from here, we should intercept them in a matter of days.”

“North?” Tanin said. “Orrock . . .”

Orrock raised a hand. “This is not deception. By my soul given to almighty Anyi, it is not. It is the surest way to close the distance with them.”

“Surest?” Tanin insisted.

Orrock sighed. “The most likely, I should say. It will be difficult to navigate through these woods, I do not deny that. We may come out too far from them in one direction or another, depending on when and where the Charic reach the canyon. But I promise you it is our best option.”

Tanin glanced at Iona and Mohani for their opinion. Mohani shrugged, but Iona nodded and slowly curled the tiny branches of her newly grown fingers. Their stop at the river had indeed rejuvenated her; the wooden fingers were nothing but twigs, but they at least were there. She hoped to be fully recovered in another day.

“All right,” Tanin said. “We’ll go north. If you’re lying . . .”

Orrock put a hand on Tanin’s shoulder. “I am not. I will do my best to get you to the Charic, Tanin. You may wish I had not, but I will try.”

He removed his hand, using it to grab more cooked meat. Tanin blinked at the use of his name, and realized Orrock hadn’t intended to use it.

Tanin chose not to point it out, and turned his attention to his food. A brief flash of adrenaline surged in him as he thought about meeting the Charic’sada at last, but he fought it back and focused on eating.

Eating the meat of the monster he had killed.

A monster he’d defeated in combat.

It suddenly tasted much better.