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The ground settles, and Madinia coughs, waving at the dusty air between us. I wipe a smear of blood from her chin and she narrows her eyes. “Next time, give me a little warning before you hurl me into oblivion.”

“Noted. You’re welcome.”

Her lips curve. And for some unknown reason, I have the strangest urge to chuckle.

Fox is nowhere to be seen, but his hoof prints lead toward the forest at our back. Madinia’s mare bolted in the same direction, so hopefully he will corral her…if she hasn’t snapped a leg in her desperate flight.

Madinia shifts, barely hiding a wince.

I lean close. “Can you move?”

“I’m fine.”

This woman. “Be still. Let me look.”

She allows me to gently shift her leather leggings, and this time I’m the one who winces.

“It’s swelling. We’ll leave your boot on for now, and I’ll examine it once we’re away from this place.” More bruises are already appearing on her face, and I clench my teeth.

Madinia flicks her hand toward the ruin of the landscape. “That wasn’t natural.”

“No.” I scan the ridge above us, where the landslide began. Rocks and debris are still shuffling, but no obvious culprit steps forward to claim responsibility. The air feels wrong. Heavy. Charged with something more than the aftermath of an earthquake.

Something that feels like my power. But not.

The sound of hooves fills the air, distant but unmistakable.

Madinia stiffens. “It’s another regiment. Or worse—Kyldare and his witch. How much power do you have?”

“Enough to kill twenty or so. Most of my power still hasn’t regenerated. You?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing from the grimoire. That link is…gone. Just my own power.”

We both wait, attention turned toward the approaching regiment.

“They’re coming from the east,” she says.

The exact direction we’re heading. I lift her into my arms as the sound of hooves grows louder. When a cloud of dust appears to our left, I sprint for cover, placing Madinia behind a cluster of jagged rocks and positioning myself behind her.

Her betrayal still lingers like a dull ache. And yet we’ve seamlessly fallen back into our own rhythm.

“If we kill the soldiers, we leave obvious signs that we were here,” Madinia hisses.

I’m already pushing my power across the expanse, sweeping our hoof prints away, as the regiment crests the ridge. The soldier at the front slows to a careful trot as he surveys the ruined ground.

“Do you see them?” one of the soldiers calls.

“Them? I thought Kyldare killed the woman.”

“Kyldare seems to think she would have survived. Do you see any evidence they were here?”

“No.”

Dust clings to the air, thick and choking, but it will work to our advantage, making it more difficult to spot us. I pull at my cloak, arranging the hood over Madinia’s hair.

She leans heavily against me, her breath coming in shallow gasps. My teeth clench, the sight of her fear offensive on the deepest level.

Something dark stirs within me.