Three days passed. Mohani showed restraint, attacking Orrock only once per day, typically as they stopped each sunset to camp. The second day she came quite close to stimulating his neck and thus prepare him for her to take him, but the monk contorted himself enough to evade her probing fingers.

By the time they reached the forest’s edge, Iona’s arms had returned, covered in those fine greenish leaves that so fascinated Tanin. How such a creature even came to be alive, he couldn’t guess. The wood witch, as if proving her worth, helped the party avoid pitfalls and an unknown number of forest animals that might have otherwise chosen the little band for a meal. Orrock and Mohani’s wounds from the dogrels were not fully healed, and the Agnise kept the monk’s torn robes in wraps around her arms and legs. Tanin was unsure if this choice was to protect the wounds or irritate the Guar.

The group stopped just shy of exiting the protection of the trees late on the third day. Tanin held his hand up to the west. They had three fingers of daylight left before dark.

“Is this the right place?” he couldn’t help asking.

Orrock had climbed trees each night to read the stars, making slight course corrections as they moved through the woods. “Yes . . . or rather, I believe so. We are entering the high desert now. The canyon is this way.” He gestured. “We will encounter it tomorrow for certain. Whether we will find the Charic as well, I cannot say.”

“And if we do,” Mohani said, turning to Tanin. “Then what? Charge the whole group of them with your stick?”

“I don’t know,” Tanin said honestly, unmoved by the Agnise’s sarcasm. She’d deployed it enough the past few days that it bounced harmlessly off him now. “I think we’ll have to see them first before taking action. We’ll figure out the best way forward once we have them in sight. They shouldn’t be expecting an attack of any kind, so we have that in our favor anyway.”

“I agree,” said Orrock. “Rampaging after them is death. We shall have to find another way.”

Mohani rolled her head around on her shoulders. Tanin heard vertebrae crackling. “I am always ready for a straightforward fight.”

“Yes, we know,” Orrock muttered.

“I am giving us options,” the Agnise said.

“Do we stop here?” Tanin said before Orrock could reply. “There’s still some daylight left.”

Orrock scanned the horizon. Once the forest petered out, scrub brush and bristling, spiny cacti took over the landscape, all of them spread out so as not to steal one another’s precious water. The ground was solid and white, sprinkled with gravel.

“This is your environment, Fell. More similar to the Fell lands than any place I have been. I doubt the Agnise or the wood witch has any experience in such land. You must lead us now.”

Tanin felt the mantle falling upon him as if it were a tangible garment. Swallowing, he took two steps forward, repeating Orrock’s scan of the desert. “How long will your water last?”

“Two days,” Orrock said. “If rationed.”

Tanin sniffed the air, lifting his chin to study the sky. It was bright and blue and cloudless, just like back home. Dry, with only the faintest mineral scent eddying in shallow undercurrents.

“If it rains, we can catch it,” he said. “But I don’t think it’s going to, not any time soon. We may be able to harvest some from the cactus, but it will be bitter.” He turned to face them. “This won’t be an easy march.”

“Nor for the Charic’sada, Tanin Fell,” said Iona. “They too must resist the sun and find water.”

“That’s true. But if you three run out of water out here, that’s going to be a problem.”

The Agnise was unfazed, but the Guar nodded.

“As I said, we will ration it. If we survive the Charic, there is a river at the bottom of the canyon.”

Tanin’s heart clenched at the monk’s wording. Orrock’s face was impassive, so Tanin couldn’t tell if he’d meant the phrasing “if we survive” to terrorize him—which it most certainly did. The reality of his mission sprang fresh knots of adrenaline in Tanin’s belly.

If Orrock had led them as well as he’d promised, tomorrow they may encounter the Charic. And if by chance not tomorrow, then certainly not long after.

Memine, he told himself. Forget the Charic’sada, you may see Memine and the others again. That’s your focus.

Tanin adjusted his pack. “We walk. We’ll stop after sunset.”

He stepped out of the forest proper, and his party followed.