"This isn't one of my usual camping spots," Shane said as he guided me into a small clearing.

The fire was burning, but that was where the similarities ended. The lean-to was just a one-sided collection of hastily gathered branches, and there wasn't a paddock or even a place to sit down. In other words, it was still better than what I usually got during my travels.

"As long as those guys don't find it, it'll work," I replied tiredly.

"I can't see any of them wandering this far from the road, and considering they were riding up and down the main roads a solid chunk of the night, they'll have to sleep soon as well."

"I hope so."

"Do you have a pot in your saddlebags?" he asked, coming over.

I dug around in the saddlebag and passed it to him. With a faint frown, he took it from my hands instead of asking me to toss it to him. Perhaps he was tired as well. Using a long lead, I tethered Milly to a nearby tree and helped Shane finish setting up camp.

After a quick meal, Shane went into the forest again. The sun would be rising shortly, and I knew he wouldn't return anytime soon, so I headed to bed.

I yawned and rolled over, but the sun was high in the sky, and I wasn't the least bit tired. With a sigh, I decided to get up. My body was finally adjusting to having my days and nights flipped upside down, so that was a good thing.

I placed some wood on the embers and skewered some leftover meat on sticks to cook. After using rocks to pin the sticks in place, I idly watched the flickering fire.

There really wasn't much else to do.

It was only mid-afternoon, so there was a lot of time left before we resumed our journey. I really hoped the war party decided to look for us elsewhere. I frowned as I remembered how they had split into groups of twos and threes to scour any trail wide enough for their destriers.

Their sheer determination was beginning to worry me. These sorts of war parties tended to be bullies who preferred to rely on a show of arms and strength in numbers. Bullies rarely exerted this level of effort or inconvenienced themselves to such an extent.

At this point, I didn't care if it took us two moonturns to get over these mountains as long as they didn't catch us.

A low growl informed me that I currently had other problems.

I hastily scanned the bushes as I staggered to my feet. Branches on the far side of the clearing shifted as a dire wolf stalked forward. Deep scratches and fresh scabs marked it as the same one from before. I grabbed a burning stick and slowly edged backward, hoping to reach my spear before it decided to attack.

The waist-high wolf eyed the campfire warily, but began circling around it. Shane's attack clearly hadn't discouraged it as much as I had assumed. Why couldn't this thing go bother the war party instead? I was quite certain they would have been thrilled to have some excitement.

I snatched the spear from where it was leaning against a tree and continued backing toward Milly. Now around the fire, the wolf was completely focused on me.

I knew it was pointless, but I shouted, "Shane! If you can hear me, this blasted wolf is back!"

The dire wolf paused, then resumed stalking forward as its head dipped down in threat. I cautiously backed up, walking a fine line of trying to retreat to Milly's side without luring the wolf into a chase. I slowly waved the smoldering stick in front of me – the fire had gone out, but it was still smoking. The smoke curled lazily through the air, only serving to make the approaching wolf look that much more ominous.

The rope beside me tightened with a twang as Milly's attempt to run was foiled by her long lead. The wolf's eyes gazed past me at the struggling mule, debating which of us was the easier prey.

Ensuring I was still out of Milly's kicking distance, I moved between her and the wolf. The movement had it baring its teeth at me. I braced the bottom of the spear against a protruding root and pointed the knife on the end at the wolf.

It must have never encountered humans – or at least not well-armed humans – since it didn't seem to consider the spear as a potential danger. It was closer now, far too close for comfort. I threw the smoking branch at the wolf and grabbed my dagger.

The wolf skipped away from the incoming branch and charged forward. I braced the spear and held the dagger in my left hand, aiming to keep the blade between its teeth and my flesh.

The spear struck its shoulder, and the sudden resistance threw the wolf off-course, snapping the spear in the process. The wolf snarled and bit at the remainder of the branch lodged between its neck and shoulder.

It wasn't a lethal strike, and I didn't feel like getting closer to the wolf's rather formidable teeth. None of the nearby trees were big enough to climb and remain out of reach of the large wolf. Spinning around, I ran to Milly's side and jumped onto her bare back. I slashed my dagger through her lead rope, and Milly promptly proved she could still run as swiftly as a mule half her age.

I clung to her short, bristly mane as she nimbly raced between trees and up hills with the ease of goat. The lead rope slapped against my shoulder in the wind of our passage, and I grabbed it and pulled back, hoping Milly would slow her headlong flight.

Alas, with just a halter and no bridle, she ignored my suggestion and kept going. My current options were to either go along for the ride with Milly or jump off and make my way back to where I'd left the hungry dire wolf.

I clung to Milly's sorry excuse for a mane and hoped the old gal would tire before too much longer.