The air was filled with the tumult of water crashing over partially submerged rocks along the banks while the moonlight reflected off the turbulent surface. I stood well back from the edge, trying to spot any possible way of crossing it.

"That's a lot of water," I commented to the werewolf coming out of the forest.

"And it's moving way too fast for a mule or human to swim," he replied, breathing hard.

It was rare to see him out of breath, but I decided not to mention it. Instead, I asked, "Did you find a way across?"

"No. I even ran all the way down to the bridge, but like I expected, the camp is right beside it. I did find a couple of places where we can try building a bridge," he said. That was a lot of ground to cover, which explained why he was out of breath.

I made a face. "Let me guess, we either build a bridge or head uphill and into the next valley?"

"Yes, and I already checked the pass. There's one guard, who we can probably slip past, but the valley beyond looks like it has more soldiers now than before."

I eyed up the churning water. "You better have some good ideas. I've never built a bridge before."

"There's a spot downstream with some big boulders in the middle, but I need a hand and some rope to make something Milly can cross."

"Lead the way," I said, swinging back into the saddle.

Shane's muscles strained as he lifted the waterlogged tree trunk. "Tie it to the other one."

The rope had already been in my hands, so I quickly used it to secure the two tree trunks together, wrapping it around both several times. When he lowered the log onto the rock base, the rope held.

I wiped the back of my hand against my forehead. "I'll keep piling rocks under it if you want to look for a couple of saplings to fill the gap between the two trunks."

He nodded and trotted upstream, examining the large variety of debris that had washed up during the rains. I picked my way along the top of the bank, locating rocks small enough for me to lift, but big enough to be useful in supporting the tree trunks so they wouldn't shift or tilt when Milly walked across.

I continued piling rocks under the edges and in the small gaps between the tree trunks while Shane wedged saplings into the wider gaps and shored up the base on the far side.

After far too long, the bridge was completed. It was one of the most ramshackle bridges I'd ever seen, but the surface should be level enough to coax Milly across. There were no visible gaps between the two logs for her hooves to slip into, which had been our main worry.

"Alright, Milly, your turn."

She lifted her head, grass still hanging out the side of her mouth, and looked down her long nose at me in disagreement. Not bothering to engage in a one-sided argument with a mule while a werewolf watched, I grabbed her reins and led her forward.

As I approached the patchwork of wood and stone, she shook her head. After a few calm reassurances, I reached the base of it. It took a few attempts to get her to step onto the logs, and she fidgeted, looking back at the solid ground behind her.

Pretending to be far more trusting of the bridge than I actually was, I gently tugged her reins, and she reluctantly followed behind me. She did quite well until we reached the center, where she had to step off one log section and onto the second one.

She yanked the reins out of my hands and spun in place on the massive rock, unwilling to go on or retrace her steps. Shane stood at the end of the bridge she'd just crossed and huffed quietly at her. The sound wasn't threatening, but Milly decided going back was not an option. Not with a werewolf blocking her path.

I grabbed the reins and guided the suddenly-much-more-cooperative mule across the last half of the bridge. I wasn't the only one to give a sigh of relief at finally being on firm ground. A loud splash came from behind as Shane cut the ropes, letting the logs and rocks drop into the water. He collected the pieces of rope to remove the tell-tale sign of our passage.

With a powerful jump, he managed to leap onto the large rock in the center and proceeded to cut those ropes as well. I quickly undid the knots at my end, keeping a cautious eye on the logs in case they decided to twist or buck as they fell into the water.

Fortunately, Shane held onto his end, holding it together until I had reclaimed the rope at the base. Once I backed up, he let go, allowing the logs and rocks to tumble into the stream. No trace of our bridge remained.

I hoped we didn't have to build any other bridges, but if wishes were so easily granted, there'd be a lot less soldiers in these mountains. Shane jumped to the shore and shifted before bringing the sections of rope over to me, which I tucked into Milly's saddlebags.

"If we hurry, we can reach a decent camping spot by daybreak," Shane said, walking closer to the trees to avoid spooking Milly before shifting back into his werewolf form.

"I'll see if I can convince Milly to trot for a while. The moon is half full, so if the light can reach the ground, she should be able to see well enough."

I patted Milly's shoulder and got back in the saddle, guiding her to a nearby trail. When I tapped my heels against her sides, she sighed but began a sluggish trot.

"There's only a couple of hours until sunrise, Milly. You can rest soon."

My words did nothing to encourage any more speed out of her old bones. But she was trotting. Well, kind of. Still, it was faster than her usual walk, so I wasn't about to complain.

"Olivia, the campsite is this way," Shane said, standing on a path that branched away from the one I was currently on.

I sent Milly in his direction, once again at her usual plodding pace. After several twists and turns, we reached the small camp. The fire was still getting established, and the lean-to only had a few branches so far, but it was still more of a campsite than what I usually got on other trips, and I appreciated it.

I tethered Milly to a tree with a long lead line and stretched, twisting side to side while holding the spear above my head in both hands. While I worked the kinks out of my back, Shane shifted to his human form and added a few dry sticks to the fire.

"Is the cooking pot in the left saddlebag?" he asked, coming over.

"Yes."

As I lowered the spear and turned back to Milly, who was still wearing her saddle and gear, movement in a distant tree made me pause. It took me a second to make out the concealed archer, but by the time I realized what I was looking at, he was already aiming his crossbow at me.

Adrenaline surged through me, and I jumped to the side even as Shane leapt in front of me. His pained gasp told me he'd been hit. We both hit the ground with heavy thuds, and I quickly scrambled to my feet.

It would take the archer some time to reload the crossbow, but we didn't have long. Shane staggered upright before sinking to his knees with heavy, labored gasps. He yanked at his necklace, but the arrow protruding from his chest was just above the pendant and prevented him from getting enough slack to remove it. Tiny bolts of orange and green lightning crackled between the brightly glowing gems in his pendant, occasionally sparking out to strike the arrow shaft.

Milly fought against her lead rope, startled by our rapid movements and the scent of blood. Dropping my now-useless spear, I raced over to her and cut through the lead rope with my dagger, pulling her over to Shane.

"Quick! Get on!" I told him.

He tried to stand but sank back down to his knees. With a strength born of desperation, I grabbed under his arms and helped hoist him into the saddle. He held onto the saddle horn, swaying unsteadily with the arrow still sticking out of his chest. I scrambled up behind the saddle and held onto his waist as I slapped Milly's rear end.

"Go!"

Echoing my words, another crossbolt whizzed by, barely missing us. Thoroughly spooked, Milly took off at a run. I kept one arm wrapped around Shane's waist while my other hand held onto the saddlebag straps for balance.

An urgent horn blast echoed through the air behind us, and I prayed with all my might that Milly had another racehorse episode left in her after an entire night of traveling.