Kissel didn’t look like a man about to die, which was terrific. On the other hand, he didn’t look as though he was going to be running back to camp either.

“Gura,” Rinnie ran to the shaggy, black beast, but it was ominously still.

The scream of a hawk echoed through the empty streets. Phoran looked up in the sky toward the tower, but couldn’t see the bird anywhere.

“On top of that building across the street,” said Lehr, sounding grim. “It’s him, isn’t it.”

“Yes. We’re going to go back anyway. Toarsen, watch Kissel,” said Phoran, not taking his eyes off the watching bird. “Is Gura still alive?”

“Yes,” said Lehr reluctantly because he knew, as Phoran did, that the right thing to do was slit the dog’s throat.

“Can you carry him?” asked Phoran.

Willon was playing with them. They were none of them a match for the Shadowed. Only Rinnie and Lehr had any magic at all. Lehr’s bow was back at camp—and a hunting knife, which was the only thing their Falcon was armed with, was no match for Willon.

“Yes, I can carry him,” said Lehr softly.

If we are going to die, thought Phoran, we’ll do it together. “The dog was hurt trying to defend Rinnie,” Phoran said aloud. “We’ll get him out if we can.”

“That’s the Shadowed, isn’t it?” asked Toarsen. “Why is he just watching us?”

“Maybe he’s waiting for us to kill the dog,” said Phoran.

CHAPTER 20

Lehr grunted as he picked up the dog. It must have weighed 140 or 150 pounds, thought Phoran. He couldn’t carry the dog all the way back to camp. No more was Kissel in any shape to walk far.

Phoran glanced at the hawk watching them. Probably carrying the dog was going to be the least of their problems.

“Phoran. Where are you going?” asked the hawk. “Run, Phoran, run. It will do you no—” Something that Phoran couldn’t see hit the bird and knocked it from its perch.

A magpie flew from somewhere behind Phoran and landed on the ground before becoming Hinnum.

“Run, boys,” he said without taking his eyes off the great bird that floundered on the ground in front of them. “I can’t hold him for long.”

“Go,” said Phoran, voice cracking with relief.

“This way,” said Lehr, and led off with Gura in his arms.

The journey was nightmarish. They walked because that was the best Kissel and an overburdened Lehr could do. Phoran took the rearguard position, walking backward so he could watch behind them.

The skies, so bright and blue that morning, had turned dark and threatening. Since Rinnie was muttering softly to herself and had a tendency to stumble over nothing, Phoran was sure she had something to do with the growing storm. He remembered Lehr’s tale of the lightning that had struck the troll threatening them, and decided that Ielian had been proved wrong: Cormorants had more to offer than good weather for a farmer. Give Rinnie a little time to work, and she was a formidable opponent.

There were sounds and flashes of light from the vicinity of where they’d left Hinnum facing the Shadowed. A few of the noises were accompanied by vibrations that shook the ground beneath their feet.

When they reached the base of the ramp, Phoran said, “Lehr, give me the dog, then take my sword. Keep an eye on Kissel. You might have to help brace him from the other side.”

He took the dog and began the long climb. What had seemed an engineering marvel to Phoran the first day they’d come into the dead city was now torturous.

Kissel tried his best, but he’d lost a lot of blood, and their progress was abysmally slow. Lehr slid his shoulder under the one Toarsen wasn’t supporting before they were more than a dozen yards from the bottom.

“Give me the sword,” said Jes, startling everyone badly.

Phoran hadn’t seen him, and neither, he thought from the look on Lehr’s face, had anyone else.

“Don’t do that,” said Lehr irritably as he held out the sword to his brother who had, in broad daylight, suddenly appeared from nowhere.

“Keep going,” said Phoran.

“Mother, Papa, and Hennea are on their way,” said Jes. “Hinnum felt the Shadowed’s magic and went ahead to help if he could.”

“We saw him,” said Phoran, breathing in huffs as the steep climb made the dog feel heavier and heavier. “He attacked Willon so we could escape. They’ve been making a lot of noise.”

“I heard it,” agreed Jes shortly. Phoran was always surprised at how different this Jes was from the slow, soft-spoken boy he usually was.

“I haven’t heard anything since we started up the ramp,” said Lehr. “I hope it’s not bad news.”

As he spoke a bedraggled magpie flew up and landed on Rinnie’s shoulder. “Go,” it croaked, swaying unsteadily. “Go.”

Kissel staggered, and brought Lehr and Toarsen to their knees.

“Jes, take the dog,” said Phoran, pushing the limp animal into Jes’s arms before the other man had a chance to protest. Then he bent down and put his shoulder into Kissel’s belly and hoisted him up.

“Toarsen, draw your sword. Lehr, take mine back from Jes before he drops it or the dog. Rinnie, steady that bird before he falls off altogether.”

Kissel outweighed Phoran, but not as much as he outweighed Toarsen and Lehr. His calves already hurt from climbing up the cliff and the guard tower, and his ribs were sore from his fall, but Jes had said Tier was coming.

“Let me take him, Phoran,” said Toarsen, as the ramp ended at last. “You’re about done in.”

Phoran shook his head. Toarsen was all wiry muscle, but he wasn’t big enough to carry Kissel for long.

“How’s his bleeding?” Phoran’s breath was coming in heaving gasps that made it hard to talk.

“Not good,” Toarsen said. “He’s unconscious. I—”

“Hush,” said Jes, setting the dog on the ground and looking back down the ramp. “He’s coming.”

Then he shifted into the shape of a black mountain cat as large as any Phoran had ever seen.

“No,” said the magpie. “No. They will need all six Orders, Guardian. I’ll stop him.”

He launched off Rinnie’s shoulder with an uncertain flap of wings that steadied on the second stroke.

“Toarsen, take Gura,” said Phoran. “Let’s go.”

He wasn’t sure how far they’d come. Phoran’s world was rapidly reducing itself to putting one foot in front of the other. When he heard the sound of galloping hooves, Phoran knelt and very carefully set Kissel on the cobbles.

“You’ll be all right now,” he told him. “Tier’s here.”

Skew slithered on the slippery cobbles, and Tier was off the horse and bending over Kissel before Skew had quite stopped.

A pulse, too rapid and too faint, beat against his fingers and Tier looked up, taking in the rest of the party.

“Rufort and Ielian?” he asked.

Toarsen set Gura down gently beside Kissel. “Rufort’s dead,” he said. “Kissel and I both picked Ielian out of the Passerines as a loyal man. We failed in our responsibility. He killed Rufort.”

Phoran, pale and drenched in sweat, held up a hand. “I knew that there was something wrong. He told Rufort that the Path was paying him—I found out last night and didn’t confront him. I bear equal responsibility.”

“Ielian was the Shadowed’s man, Papa,” said Rinnie.

When he opened his arms, she ran to him. Her little face was bruised, a black and swollen knot on her chin. Her bottom lip was split and puffy. Tier looked from her to Phoran.

“Ielian again,” he said. “Willon is responsible for the split lip, though.”

“Tell us,” said Seraph. She began a gentle examination of Gura, though Tier saw that her eyes blazed with rage. “Sit down, Phoran. If you keep swaying half-up, half-down, you’ll fall. What happened, Lehr?”

“Ielian lured us out of our way—I suppose he and Willon had arranged something of the sort. Before any of us knew something was wrong, Willon froze us where we stood.”