Page 41 of Keeper of the Word

He unsheathed it and studied the hilt, inlaid with amber gemstones. One stone was missing from its head, the prongs like empty fingers. The stone had been lost due to damage the sword had taken in the Battle of Reva. His brother had attempted to helphim locate the stone, but it was gone. After, Crevan had oft asked why Tolvar had never had the gemstone replaced. But there was no answer for his brother. Mayhap it symbolized something more than a lost gem.

Stars.

He gave the sword a few practice swings. Gemstone or no, Tolvar knew the worth of his weapon. In a deft motion, Tolvar pivoted and scrutinized the trees behind him. Something was there. Or someone?

His eyes raked over the details of the branches, some covered with new leaves, some with white buds still clinging to them. Behind him, the sounds of camp were normal. He stepped closer, his sword aloft. Suddenly, rustling came from the underbrush as some hidden creature raced away.

“What was it?” said Elanna’s voice behind him.

Tolvar’s sword came inches from her nose. Both their mouths flew open.

“Never do that.”

Her hand at her chest, Elanna put on a feigned smile. “From the stories I am hearing from your men, I thought it impossible to sneak up on the Wolf.” Her smile widened and turned mischievous.

“You sound like Hux.” He sheathed his sword. “And I do not know what it was. A grouse, squirrel, mayhap a fox.”

“Fox.” Elanna’s mouth went slack. “Oh my stars.”

Tolvar took her by the shoulders as he narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”

“That night…” She gestured to her neck. “The man said something. Something like, ‘The fox has greater schemes than you.’”

Her face was bone white. He saw his reaction to her words reflected back at him in her eyes.

“The fox?” He strung out his words. “You are certain he said fox?”

She nodded. “Who is the fox?” Elanna’s voice was as pale as her face.

“Do you not remember?” Hux said, stepping into the clearingto join them. “He’s Tolvar’s brother, Crevan. And he’s supposed to be dead.”

Tolvar did not wait for Elanna’s reaction. He pivoted and tromped into the trees, telling Hux to douse out as he called after him.

Where was he? Crevan was close. Tolvar’s grip on his sword turned his knuckles white. His eyes trained themselves on hunting. Every fallen leaf, every snapped twig, every impression made by the paws of forest creatures could not escape his stalking eyes. He paused and sniffed the air. ’Twas still. Not this way. Tolvar turned to the east, guided by instinct and rage.

Where was he?

After a half-hour’s hunt, he discovered something. Tolvar crouched for a closer look. A half print of a boot, not a day old. He stood and, with awareness and precision, rotated.

“What in the name of the moon goddesses are you doing?” Hux said, taking no care to tread quietly.

Tolvar thought of several impressive insults to shoot at Hux. Instead, he swiveled around deliberately and kept his voice low. “He is here somewhere, Hux. I can feel it.”

“Crevan? Your brother who was killed when the Befallen was destroyed?”

“Never found a body.”

Hux stooped and studied the bootprint. If Tolvar was a man of compliments, he might have told the Ravyn he was impressed he’d noticed it.

“This could be anyone’s.”

“’Tis not.”

“How would he get here?” Hux traced his fingers along the print. “He was mortally wounded. Not to mention his gang of Brones were all killed as well.”

They shared a glance. These were the exact thoughts Tolvar pondered.

“But the fact remains that someonedidattack Elanna,” Hux said. “Why?”