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“Yes. Most of them sneak in from nearby realms, but…” Slate looked through the endless trees, shadows trailing off the leaves. He looked like he was going to say more, but then his jaw clicked shut beneath his skull mask.

“Never you mind,” he said.

He looked troubled. Ruby had a useless urge to touch his arm in comfort. As if she could comfort a Skullskalker, a being who had been alive before her ancestors came to Sweetsguard. She was a speck to him.

She tugged nervously at her dress. “Thank you for protecting me. I don’t want to imagine what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.”

Slate made a noise in the back of his throat, low and guttural. Then he coughed.

“Well, I was. So… let’s not imagine.”

Ruby hesitated. “I want my dagger back. In case something like this happens again.”

Slate curled his fingers. A dagger appeared in his hand, curved and gleaming black. He held it out.

“Here,” he said. “Take it.”

She took it, marveling at the sleek blade. It looked obsidian, though she supposed it was just a shadow. The same as her dress and his loincloth.

She bit her lip. “It’s beautiful. But I don’t have anywhere to put it.”

Something clenched around her thigh, and Ruby gasped.

She pulled the dress open at the leg slit. There was a holster band around her inner thigh, just the right size for the newly conjured dagger to fit into.

“Thank you,” she said. She stroked the dagger wondrously, marveling at the smooth texture.

She reached to place it into her holster band. Then she paused, heart racing.

She held the dagger out, proud to see her hands were steady. “Would you put it on for me?”

She waited for him to repeat that he needed to sleep, to go scouting through his void; he didn’t have time to perform useless tasks for some puny human.

Then he sank to his knees on the forest floor. He did it so slowly, so intently that Ruby’s throat went dry.

He plucked the knife out of her hand. “Your leg.”

She extended it out of the slit in her dress. She was sure he could feel her trembling as he took her thigh in one huge hand and slid the black dagger into it. The metal was cool against her skin, just like everything else about him.

Ruby looked at his mouth, half-hidden at the spot where the mask ended. They were almost the same height when he kneeled. Close enough to lean in for a kiss.

The dog spirit whined loudly next to them.

Ruby startled. She had forgotten it was there. “Gods. You scared me.”

The dog spirit licked her hand apologetically.

Ruby pulled her leg back under her dress, trying to ignore the feel of the dagger against her thigh as she shifted. “You—you were saying something. Before it attacked us.”

Slate paused. He was still kneeling, his gaze stuck on her leg as it slipped back under her dress.

“Yes,” he said, standing so fast Ruby’s head swooped as if she was falling.

He reached for his sleeve. “I?—”

“Why didn’t it attack me?” Ruby wondered aloud, unable to stop it. “I’m obviously weaker. Why go for a Skullstalker instead? Gods, sorry, I cut you off again.”

Slate’s hand dropped from his sleeve. “I don’t know. Perhaps he only showed up once I arrived.”