“You look as though you haven’t slept in days,” Anya said when they took their places to resume the journey. “Why don’t you go in the back and have a lie down?”

Llew wasn’t sure if she was ready to relax in the presence of these strangers, but urged by Aris and Emylia as well, she clambered over the back of the seat and lay against some rolled bedding in the back.

The carriage was filled with the belongings of a teenage girl of far greater means than Llew had ever known. There were dozens of bags bulging, no doubt with fine clothing, a guitar, and even paintings leaning up against one side and carefully roped to the cart struts. The entire carriage interior smelled of perfume. While Llew didn’t love the tangy aromas most of the girls she knew wore, this was a pleasant enough fragrance, with none of the cheap undertones she was used to. The perfume wafted from a stack of papers and envelopes tied with ribbon, with a pen, bottle of ink, and a letter opener attached. Llew had been taught to read, but she felt a pang of jealousy toward this girl who could write as well. Llew remembered her mother writing letters to family they couldn’t visit. But her father hadn’t been one for such things, so he had not taught her the skill. Not that Llew had anyone to write to in any case.

The bedding was of the softest material she had ever touched, and it wasn’t long before the soothing sounds and the motion of the rocking carriage lulled her into semi-consciousness.

A shout startled her awake, and the carriage pulled up.

“How can we help you, officer?” Aris’s gravelly voice floated back through the canvas to Llew.

Her pulse quickened and muscles tensed, but she swallowed her nerves and the urge to leap out the back and disappear into the trees. For all she knew, they were surrounded. Keep calm, Llew. Keep calm.

The silence that followed did little to settle her.

“Excuse me, sir,” Emylia’s tense voice broke it. “But may I ask what exactly it is that you are looking for?”

“A witch, ma’am.”

“A witch? Well, this is Miss Anyunca Orell, daughter of Lord and Lady Orell of Cheer. And I would ask that you cease looking at her in that way.”

“Sorry, ma’am. The witch is a girl, about your charge’s age. You wouldn’t happen to have seen one, would you? She’s probably naked, and likely dirty.”

So, they’d found the skirt and blouse. Llew guessed they probably expected her to dance around magic stones under a full moon, too. A witch!

“No, sir. We haven’t seen anyone like that,” Aris answered.

Llew closed her eyes in a silent prayer. Only a layer of canvas and the silence of her traveling companions separated her from a return trip to Cheer and the noose – or worse.

Then, without another word, the Farries were on their way at a ground-eating lope to spread the word of the witch escaping farther north. Llew let herself relax into the bedding again. But a gap in the canvas at the back of the carriage caught her eyes and, through it, she could see Jonas riding just behind the pack horses tied to the rear of the carriage. She didn’t know if he could see through the hole into the dark interior of the carriage, but it sure looked like he was watching her. She swallowed, gazed up at the canvas roof, and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. No, he didn’t know anything. He was just annoyed that she’d stolen his knife. That was all. She would prove her worth to the group and he would forgive her. Everything would be fine.

She hoped.

The road meandered in gentle curves, negotiating hilly terrain and all the while approximately parallel with the coastline, tracing the edge of the land. The travelers fell silent as fatigue from the day’s ride set in. Hooves and wagon wheels were the only sounds when the road veered from the sea and into a corridor of beech forest, the trees striping the riders with bars of light and shadow. Fallen seeds littered the road and small rodents that had been taking advantage of this year’s feast scurried into the undergrowth as carriage and riders passed.

Llew clambered to the front and sat behind the other passengers, watching the passing landscape. The cool forest air was a relief after months of cooking daily in the heat of Cheer. She breathed the moist air deep into her lungs and the cool twilight gave her a sense of peace.

Three men on horseback emerged from the trees ahead, stopping Cassidy and Alvaro in their tracks. Their demeanor and brandished knives and swords banished any tranquility. A rustle sounded behind. Llew poked her head around the side of the carriage to see four more men span the road to the rear of their party.

More lawmen?

“Highwaymen,” said Aris, under his breath, as though answering her thought. “Good for nothing no-hopers think they can take whatever they want whenever they want...” He kept muttering under his breath.

He was right. They didn’t look like any lawmen Llew had ever seen. The only thing uniform about these men was the layer of dust and mud caked on them.

Seven men to their three. Big men, too. Llew doubted Aris was up to much these days – he was a touch on the potty side and older than her father would be now. And, she doubted the ladies were expected to fight. Cassidy and Alvaro drew swords, prepared to engage the three men at the front, but that left Jonas to deal with the four at the back alone.

“Leave the carriage, and the women, and we’ll let you live,” said one of the highwaymen.

“Have you met my boys?” Aris’s quiet voice cut clear to the men at the front. “I suggest you think twice before startin’ something.”

“There are seven of us, old man...”

Llew didn’t like those odds, either. She slunk into the carriage, looked around for something useful, and then clambered over the other luxury items to the writing set and retrieved the letter opener. She might not even the odds, but she was worth something. She watched through the small hole at the back of the cart.

Anya cried out, and Llew instinctively turned towards her. The stamping of hooves and the clash of steel on steel, the snorting of horses and the grunts and shouts of men filled the air all around the cart, and Anya climbed into the covered part of the carriage. Llew swung away to look out the back.

All four of the riders had converged on Jonas and, for a brief moment, he seemed swamped and certain to fall. But, miraculously, he held his own and more. With a knife in each hand, he parried and struck back at every attack, his horse twisting and turning to keep him in the action and out of harm’s way. His blades whirled with a speed and accuracy that looked unnatural to Llew, and his skill appeared almost magical. Who were these people she’d got caught up with?

The highwaymen kept pressing, though judging from the shocked and panicky expressions on their faces, they had expected no resistance, much less this deadly whirlwind. Still, they outnumbered Jonas four to one, and he surely must tire or make an error soon. Llew untied the back of the carriage and pulled back the canvas. Taking careful aim, she flung the letter opener at one rider as he was edging round behind Jonas. The handle struck him in the head and with an “uh!” the rider fell, crashing into the dust and spooking his horse, which took fright and desperately tried to disentangle itself from the maelstrom, treading on its rider’s slack limbs before galloping into the trees.

The man’s downfall came as a further shock to the others, one of whom looked wild-eyed at Llew. It was a fatal mistake. Jonas plunged a knife into him and before the other two highwaymen recovered their wits, he yanked his loaded crossbow from his saddle, leveling it at one of them. They clearly hadn’t reckoned on putting their lives on the line for a few belongings. One threw his knife at Jonas, who leaned to one side, letting it pass harmlessly by. As he straightened in his saddle and took aim, the two riders turned and took off back up the road.

“Well, there’s one more group of Aghacian bandits dispatched,” said Cassidy. “You think they’ll thank us?”

Llew picked up the letter opener from the road as Jonas claimed his knife from the fallen man. He had used knives from his vest, choosing to leave the bigger, ornate one in its holster. Llew helped him lift the body from the road and into the trees. She had to focus all her attention on not looking at the corpse that used to be a living, breathing man. Jonas seemed not to be bothered by it.

When they went to move the one Llew had struck with the letter opener, she exclaimed, startled. “He’s still breathing!”

“You brained him good, though,” said Jonas. “He’ll have a killer headache when he wakes.” His lips curled in a lop-sided smile. Llew’s lips twitched in an effort to suppress her own grin. She had made the angry man smile.

They shifted the unconscious bandit from the road, then removed the tack from the lingering riderless horses, leaving it all by the side of the road and scattering all but one of the animals into the forest. One was judged suitable for Llew to ride once she had footwear and better tack. In the meantime, he was tethered to the rear of the carriage with the pack horses.

“Thanks for your help,” said Jonas.

The gratitude was unexpected and Llew faltered in her attempt to clamber into the carriage. She shrugged. “I told you I could earn my way.”

The sun lowered, drawing the deep blue of a cool, crisp evening with it. They pulled off the road and up a narrow path that led to a clearing. Aris and Llew disembarked from the carriage to help the horses navigate between the trees and steer the wheels around holes and large bumps. They unhitched and hobbled the horses. A creek trickled nearby and Llew had the idle thought that perhaps it was the same one at which they had refilled their canteens at lunch. She helped the boys scout for dry deadwood for the fire while Aris and the girls set about preparing to reheat stew for dinner.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said to Jonas, brushing the dirt left by her load of sticks and small branches from her clothing. “About the knife—”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Oh.” Llew smiled at him, thinking she must have made amends with her help against the highwaymen. Her smile dropped when his expression remained stony. He hadn’t forgiven her. With one finger, and no change in expression, he beckoned her to follow him. He walked to their equipment lying close to the horses, and drew two swords.

“Woo! Here we go,” said Cassidy, dumping his load of wood and joining them.

Jonas crossed the camp, absently swinging one sword, drawing curious looks from Anya and Emylia and a stern one from Aris.

“You sure that’s necessary?” asked Alvaro, joining the break-away group.

“Just wanna see what he can do,” said Jonas. Fifty paces from camp, he turned and offered one sword to Llew. “If I’m ridin’ with him, I gotta know he has my back, don’t I?” He wiggled the handle at her when she didn’t take it immediately, and she tentatively lifted it from his grasp.

“He did alright this afternoon,” said Alvaro.

Jonas ignored him, taking his fighting stance.

Llew raised her sword between them, fixing her eyes on his. She concentrated on not letting him see that the weight of the steel weapon was already tiring her hungry muscles. It was a little different to the dull wooden ones she was used to.

He knocked her blade aside gently. He wasn’t expecting too much from her. Well, she would do her best to prove him wrong.

Concentrating on making it look good, she smacked his sword aside in reply. Guffaws issued from the cousins at the side-line. Jonas struck again, with more force but with plenty yet in reserve. Llew successfully parried and a wry smile crept across his lips. She smiled back and twisted her sword out from behind his, making a lunge for him. He stepped back, blocking her attack with his blade, and pushing back to over-balance her. She recovered, ducking out of the way and preparing for the next strike, but her foot landed on an unstable bit of ground and before she regained her balance, he struck her blade, twisted it and stepped in, pinning her against a tree with his body, an elbow holding her head in place, his sword abandoned and his knife at her throat. The knife.

“Hey! Jonas—” Alvaro stepped up beside them but didn’t make a move to separate them or finish his complaint.

Right there, Llew knew Jonas only took orders from Aris. The rest of the group could totally accept her and she’d still strike trouble if she didn’t get on Aris’s and Jonas’s good side. She was confident Aris didn’t have a problem with her – he had pressed her to travel with them, after all. Face pinned against the tree, she peered at Jonas out of the corner of her eye. He was studying her, and she wondered if she had passed his test.

“Jonas—” Alvaro said again.

Llew held Jonas’s gaze, trying not to let him scare her. At least, not letting the fear show.

With a grunt, he pushed away, winding her. He turned and walked back to the camp. Llew watched him go while she rubbed her neck where his elbow had been. No real damage, just sore.

“Hey, sorry about that. I don’t know what’s got into him,” said Alvaro as Llew straightened her clothing.

“He’s an ass.”

Llew looked at Alvaro, eyebrows raised. Alvaro didn’t seem the type to call people names, but there was the slightest curl to his top lip that suggested he didn’t much like Jonas.

“Ease up, Al. It’s a year ago today,” said Cassidy, stepping up beside them.

“Oh. Right.” Alvaro nodded.

“A year since what?” Llew asked.

Cassidy cocked his head. “Hmm, no.” He shook his head. “You’ll have to ask him.” He started walking back to the camp. “But I’ll warn you now, he doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“Doesn’t like to talk about much of anything,” Alvaro muttered, before moving to follow Cassidy. Llew walked back to camp a step behind him.

“We made good time today,” Aris said, scooping stew onto tin plates and handing the first to Anya, the second to Emylia. “I had thought it might be dark by the time we made it here.” He sat back with his own plate, leaving the boys and Llew to serve themselves.

“How far to the next town?” asked Llew.

“We should make Orn tomorrow evening. It’s small, but they have an inn.”

“With a bar,” said Cassidy, with a grin.

“Beer,” Alvaro added.

“Girls.”

“I’m looking forward to a nice warm bath,” said Emylia.

“Oh, Emy,” said Anya. “We’re meant to be roughing it.”

“We are roughing it, dear,” Emylia said, her voice syrupy sweet. “Why, here we are about to spend a night in the open with nothing but canvas walls for privacy. But a young lady does not allow herself to smell like the animals with whom she travels.”

Cassidy raised an arm and made a show of sniffing his armpit.

Emylia waved a hand at him. “You know I meant the horses.”

“Oh, the horses! I was checkin’ I wasn’t getting to stinking like Alvaro.”

After dinner, Aris sat with Emylia, chatting quietly of old times. Llew wondered if they had been sweethearts in the past. There was something in the way they leaned into each other, conversing in hushed tones, their skin reflecting the camp fire’s flickering orange. To Llew, it felt as though the group was a family and Aris and Emylia were the parents. It brought a smile to her lips.

Alvaro and Cassidy spoke animatedly with Anya, who looked like a royal princess with her two pages as she sat perched on a fallen log, while the young men knelt below.

“Alvaro and Cassidy live near Rakun.” Jonas’s voice cut into Llew’s thoughts. He reclined against his saddle a couple of yards from her, hands clasped behind his head, ankles crossed, and his eyes apparently closed. She had thought him asleep. “We’re taking Anya to Rakun to meet her husband.”

“She hasn’t met him before?”

“They write.”

Llew watched the girl across the fire. Here she was, leaving her parents behind and traveling to another country, another land, to marry a man she had never met, when all Llew wanted was to have her parents back and to curl up in her mother’s arms. She supposed that if they were still around, she might have wanted to get away from them by now, too. But it was hard to imagine.

The boys were clearly reveling in Anya’s giggles and delight. Alvaro waved Llew over, but she shook her head, content to observe and listen. She didn’t feel as though she had much to add to their light-hearted comparisons of happy childhoods. Hers had been good while it lasted, but she didn’t feel like steering the conversation down the path of the lost mother and missing father.

After a while, Jonas stood up, and Llew watched him dig something from his saddlebag and disappear into the trees.

Aris watched him go, and then resumed conversing with Emylia in muted tones, though his eyes kept returning to where Jonas had disappeared.

Llew sat for a few moments more, then got up and began gathering the dishes from the evening’s meal. She needed this group for this leg of her journey. If she didn’t get things squared away with Jonas, she would forever be on her guard.

Aris joined her by the fire as she collected the pot. “Get Jonas to help you. He needs the distraction.” Llew nodded, glad of the opportunity to make herself useful again.

She made her way through the trees, stepping over low ferns and looking for signs of his passing. She found him sitting with his back against a tree, facing the creek at its widest point where it appeared black and almost stagnant under a layer of tiny silver and gray leaves. By daylight, those same leaves had been fire red and gold. Here the soil was dark, damp and scattered with autumn detritus and the air was heavy with humidity.

Jonas sharpened his big bone-handled knife, flicking a stone along the edge of the blade in deft sweeps. He held the knife up to inspect it and moonlight flashed on the silvery metal. A log lay on the ground before him, so Llew put the dishes down nearby and took a seat.

He must have heard her approach through the leaves but didn’t acknowledge her arrival, instead remaining focused on his task, only pausing briefly to put the stone down, pick up a small bottle and take a swig. He balanced the bottle on the ground and reclaimed the stone.

Llew watched him a while. There was a sadness about his eyes as he slid the stone along the blade, then inspected the edge once more. Anger, too. But then, that emotion never seemed far from the surface in his case.

Deciding he had ignored her long enough, she inquired, “Want to talk about it?”

“No.” He swept the stone along the blade with greater force.

Llew nodded. After a while, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. The sound of her moving brought Jonas out of his reverie, and he looked at her blankly. She couldn’t be sure, but his eyes seemed to glisten.

“Why are you still here?” he asked.

“Well, I thought our friendship had a bit of a rocky start and—”

“We’re not friends.”

Llew stopped cold. She knew he didn’t like her, but she thought they’d made headway after the highwaymen. And even the sword fight hadn’t gone so badly. Maybe he was just plain unfriendly. No wonder Alvaro didn’t like him.

“Okay.” Llew stood and bent to gather the dishes again. “Well, I hope you won’t let that stop us working together because I plan to continue traveling with you as long as Aris will have me and—”

“Stop.”

Llew froze, still bent over, metal plates in the crook of an elbow and the handle of the pot in the other hand.

“Sit,” he said.

Llew let go of the pot handle, returned the plates to the ground, and reclaimed her seat on the log. Maybe not entirely unfriendly, then. Either that, or he just enjoyed giving commands and seeing them obeyed.

“Here.” He picked up the bottle and held it out to her.

She took it and threw back a mouthful.

Her mouth felt like it was on fire. She coughed, sending a spray of liquid over the ground, a measure up her nose, and the rest down her throat. She wheezed and tried to catch her breath, only to cough and splutter more. All the while Jonas laughed.

Her breathing under control at last, and a more manageable tickle at the back of her throat, she passed the bottle back to him.

“I guess I should’ve told you to sip it slow,” he said. “But that was worth it.”

Llew coughed, looking at him over her hand as she pounded her chest with the other fist.

“I guess I should’ve known it wasn’t water.”

They sat, suppressed laughter between them; Llew wasn’t prepared to think it meant anything. He was still testing her. After taking another sip himself, Jonas held the bottle out to her again. She accepted it and took a second mouthful with more care than the first. It warmed her mouth, but she let it slip down her throat. Its warmth spread all the way down, radiating about her chest and settling in her stomach. She didn’t think she’d ever felt so aware of her internal organs.

She passed the bottle back to Jonas, and he took another swig, his eyes not leaving her. Then he replaced the cork and sat the bottle next to him.

“What’s your real name, Llew?”

Llew’s initial shock subsided to suspicion. What did he think he knew?

“What do you mean?”

He laughed. “You forget, I threatened you with a crossbow between your breasts. And you throw a letter opener like a girl.”

Llew gaped. That had been a good throw.

“Make a habit of punching girls, do you?”

“I figured you didn’t want Alvaro catchin’ on.” He gave a slight smile. “So, what is it? I mean, Lou’s a fine boy’s name, and it ain’t bad for a girl, but I’m doubtin’ it’s your full, or even your real, name.”

Llew found herself smiling back. “It’s Llewella.”

“Llewella,” Jonas repeated. “It’s a pretty name.”

“Yeah,” She nodded at the ground, reaching down to pick up a stick and draw shapes in the soil. Hearing someone say that name gave her chills. She hadn’t heard it since... She thought she could remember her mother calling her Llewella. Oh, and Japod. The way he’d said it sent a different kind of shiver through her.

Any surprise at her commanding tone was only shown by briefly raised eyebrows over the bottle as he took another swig.

“I want to know about that.” She nodded to the knife in his hand.

He looked at her, his expression at first stern, then softening as he nodded, acknowledging her right to an exchange of information. “This knife...” He paused, then took a deep breath, running his fingers along the side of the blade before holding it up, handle to tip, pressed between his index fingers. For the first time, Llew could really see the weapon and appreciate its beauty. The handle was intricately carved with a pattern, a beast – a gryphon, Llew thought. The flawless blade was broader and longer than a dagger, and it too had fine details engraved in the metal.

“This knife is a family heirloom. Passed down through generations to protect my family from our enemies.” An ironic smile flickered across his features. “Instead, it’s taken the lives of everyone I hold dear.”

“You’re an orphan, too!” Llew blurted before she had even thought if it was appropriate to sound so excited.

Jonas nodded.

“Then why do you carry it with you? Why not bury, or destroy it?”

Jonas shook his head. “It can’t be destroyed. It was forged with one purpose: to kill the unkillable. It ain’t like other knives. It can’t be melted down. And so long as it remains in my possession, no one can use it against those I care about again.”

Llew nodded, studying the forest floor intensely. Now she understood the insult she had done him when she stole the weapon back in Cheer. But something still made her reckless.

“Unless someone takes it from you.” She risked a smile and a sideways glance at him.

“No one will take it. Never again.”

Her smile left. There was nothing funny in the way he spoke.

“So who are these unkillables?” She was imagining some sort of thick-skinned creature, with a hide so tough normal steel would sooner bend than pierce it. Or maybe...

“Aenuks.”

The word meant nothing to her and she frowned. He glanced over at her.

“The healers.”