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“Oh, Halja, I’m sorry. This must be frightening. I can’t imagine…” He trailed off, his tall, powerful frame that had moved so confidently and gracefully on the road now looking out of place, as if this tiny kitchen were too small for him. Then he crossed the short distance between us and pulled me into a hug. I was enveloped in his warm, comforting scent. Cinnamon and other warm spices, tobacco. All muffled by the wet leather of the armor he still wore.

I hugged him for a moment and then pulled back. “I’m just worried about Eilith.”

“I know,” he said, looking down at me with soft eyes. “But if there’s anybody I trust to handle themselves, it’s Eilith.”

I nodded, then asked, “How did you know to come for us? It takes hours to get to Eilith’s from here.”

“I saw those men ride out of town and had a bad feeling about them, so I followed. I’m just sorry I wasn’t faster.”

∞∞∞

We slipped out of town and took the main road headingsoutheast. Darkness swallowed us as we left the dim lamplight of Skeioholm behind and were consumed by the shadows of the forest.

The road was clear, the ground still soft with the first hints of spring warmth left over from the day. We rode in silence for hours by the light of the waxing moon. Finally, to my relief, Byrgir turned off the road and followed a side path up a small ridge and partway down the other side, to a flat space where we would not be visible to anyone passing by. We made camp for the night, and I climbed into my bedroll shivering. We didn’t dare light a fire, and the lack of light and warmth let the shock of the day dig its teeth into my bones. I finally drifted to sleep.

We rose with the sun in the morning. My body ached from the cold night on the ground, and I stayed in my bedroll watching Byrgir pack and saddle his horse for as long as I could. He did not rush me, but diligently prepared himself and quietly waited for me to follow suit. I chewed smoked salmon and handfuls of dried cranberries in my saddle, hoping the energy from the food might chase some of the ache from my muscles.

“We’ll stop in a couple hours and make a fire, have a warm meal,” Byrgir said, as if reading my mind. “I just want more distance from town first.”

The snow in the trees began to drip as the sun’s rays hit them, melting the cold night from their boughs. I stretched, breaking from the hunched position I’d been riding in as the sun warmed my face.

Movement to my left caught my eye, and I glimpsed the fleeting ghost of a huge wolf pacing us through the woods off the road. I started and reached for my bow on instinct, but the flash of fur was a familiar, clean white.

“Vardir!” I called gently. The wolf trotted toward the road and stepped into it in front of Byrgir. His black Friesian, whose name, I had learned, was Eira, tossed her head.

“Friend of yours?” Byrgir asked.

“One of Rose’s litter. She must’ve tracked our scent from Eilith’s.”

A moment later, another huge wolf, deep black as a starless sky, emerged from the trees and crossed onto the road beyond Vardir. He swung into step and led the way, nose low. I recognized him as Garmr, another I had given a northern name too, to match my own. Vardir waited until I reached her and touched my leg gently with her nose as I passed. I reached down to pat her head and was struck by her size. I could reach her by leaning in my saddle, without even dismounting. I knew they were big, but had never realized that they weren’t much smaller than a pony now.

The wolves fell into step with us as we traveled. One scouted ahead while the other watched our backs. Their quiet presence was comforting. They patrolled as we stopped at last to make a warm breakfast.

Byrgir stirred porridge in a small cast iron pot over our little fire and looked at me. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore. Tired. Worried.” I thought for a moment, then added, “And confused. You ready to give me some answers?”

“I don’t think I have that many answers to give,” Byrgir said. “It seems like the Paragons of Light have decided to take a more aggressive approach in their conflict with people like Eilith, and people like you.” His eyes flicked up to me and held mine.

My heart rate quickened and my chest constricted. I looked down, unable to hold his gaze.

Byrgir continued, “And their conflict with you and Eilith is a conflict with me.” He leaned back and straightened, the hilt of his sword bobbing above his broad shoulders where it was strapped across his back. I pitied anybody who found themselves in conflict with him.

“I don’t understand what they have against Eilith,” I said. “She isn’t fae-touched.”

“The Paragons believe that Sourcery, and its connection to the fae, are dangerous. They think the world is safer without it. That using it only calls to our distant fae neighbors, and may welcome them back intoourworld, as they see it. And so it follows that they don’t like Sourcerers or those who follow the Old Ways, like Eilith.

“They believe Sourcerers and the fae-touched should live separately from the rest of us, and should keep their fae-tainted blood from mingling with ours. They talk like it’s for everyone’s safety. Like they alone can save us all from the shadows.”

“Explains why they were so awful to us at the market,” I said. “But I don’t understand what fae-touched folk have to do with shadowfiends.”

“I don’t either. Like I said, I think they’re full of shit. But fear is a powerful motivator. People are scared of monsters, and if the Paragons can offer them an explanation for the horrors they see, and a solution to the shadowfiend infestation, then they’ve got themselves more followers. More followers means more power.”

“If they’re trying to present themselves as the safe option, the guardians against the shadow, why attack Eilith outright?” I asked.

“That’s another answer I don’t have. Eilith has been a pillar of our community for a long time. She’s a powerful woman, and she has practiced her craft openly her entire life, even when the Paragons have expressed their displeasure with it before. It seems the Paragons are becoming more than a nuisance now. I think they have some power and influence to wield, so they’re wielding it.” He paused and looked at me thoughtfully. “And I think they knew you were there.”

“What does any of this have to do with me?”