'They are not natural creatures,' said Auum.

'No, they're demons. Be careful of them. They are strong and to be feared.'

'Not by the elves,' said Auum. 'However ugly or strong, they are not a match for us. Tual protects us.'

Denser half smiled. ‘Inoticed. Now, assassins are altogether different. They will travel Cloaked, silent and in pairs. Always in pairs. We need to worry about these men. They are powerful casters, ruthless knife- and poison-killers and they leave no trail.' He nodded at Auum. 'They are the closest thing we have to the TaiGcthen. They won't kill indiscriminately, it isn't their way. Indeed, they may not attack at all tonight, preferring to watch. If I know Dystran, they will be tasked to recover the Aryn Hiil, kill The Raven, barring Erienne, and also kill any elf they identify as key. That means you two for a start.'

Auum nodded. 'The ClawBound must be informed,' he said through Rebraal. 'And then every elf in the camp. The breeze on your cheek could be the passing of an enemy. This won't wait.'

He rose and, having spoken quickly to Rebraal, he trotted out of the firelight.

Hirad watched him go then raised his eyebrows in Rebraal's direction.

'He wants to get the message out. They are also going to mark the camp accessways with leaves and brush. It might help but the wind works against us. We will have to be vigilant.'

'We've got another idea,' said Hirad. 'We think that the assassins' first target will be us. Judging by the pace of the main Xeteskian force, they think they can take you on at the College so they'll let you go. If we aren't with you, you'll be free to move faster and in darkness if it suits you. We can outrun the assassins, the familiars and the mage defenders. We'll take the spare horses as well. We'll be leaving before dawn. Hopefully, we'll be seen, if you see what I mean.'

'Is that…?' Rebraal paused and frowned. 'That's a risk. A big one. You are much safer with us.'

'But we're putting you at greater risk,' said The Unknown. 'Think about it. It makes sense. We can act as decoys, we can look after ourselves. We aren't helping you here and we don't like that. We'd be happier on our own.'

'Doing things The Raven's way, is that it?' asked Rebraal.

Hirad smiled. 'Now you're getting it.'

'What about Erienne?' he asked.

'She comes with us,' said Denser.

'She's one of their main targets,' added Darrick. The pale general was lying against his saddle already half asleep, the day's ride having worn him down.

'I don't know,' said Rebraal. 'Splitting our forces, isn't it? And you aren't just hunted by Xetesk.'

'Oh, I think Lystern and Dordover have other things on their minds,' said The Unknown.

'I'll speak to Auum,' said Rebraal. ‘Idon't think he'll like it.'

'It isn't like you have a choice,' said Hirad. 'We're going to sleep on it and if we like the idea when we wake, we're going.'

Rebraal sucked his lip, his cheeks reddening slightly. 'Right,' he said and pushed himself to his feet. 'Right. Well listen, don't leave without saying something.'

The Al-Arynaar looked crushed. Hirad couldn't let him leave like that.

'Hey, Rebraal, we'd love you to come with us. Gods know, we could do with your skills. But your place is here, with your people. Ours isn't. Anyway, it's for two days. We'll see you in Julatsa.'

'You'd better. The ClawBound will shadow you.' The elf left their fire.

Out in the camp, flames were being dampened. Hirad and The Unknown followed the lead, kicking dirt over their already guttering fire.

'Denser, get some rest,' said The Unknown. 'I'll wake you when I wake Hirad for watch. Darrick, you're sleeping and no argument, you look terrible.'

'Who's arguing?'

'Good answer,' said The Unknown. 'Listen, we know what could be out there. We know how good the elves are but we've encountered assassins before. Let's not lapse, all right?'

He stood tall, sampling the night air, his thoughts clouded by die wrong. Her emotions of anger and loss were in his mind too, and thrashing through his veins. He yearned for the canopy above him, the heat of the day, the cacophony of night. The comfort of the rain.

But he was here doing Tual's work. The TaiGethen had asked many of the ClawBound to stay and so they had. He looked to the right and locked eyes with his Claw. She was standing stock still, feeling his emotional tide as he was hers. Around them, the scents of the alien land came to them on a soft breeze, dry and cool.

He took in the landscape, its hues standing out in stark tones of grey. The tall grassed plains that ran away to the south-west and the bulk of the enemy, the hills rising north and the undulating land close to the elven camp. The sounds of the river, though it was quite distant now, were as clear as tile rustling of the low brush and damaged trees in front of him.

They moved on south, sorting the scents. Cooked meat, a fresh kill, wood smoke and ash, horses, grass. But overlaying it all was the stench of man. His hand was everywhere* tainting all that he had. Humans knew so little about their land, how to keep it, how to work in harmony with the riches their Gods had given them. There was no comfort in the land, it felt aggressive somehow to the Claw-Bound. Ill at ease.

Ahead of him, a broken fence led on to the overgrown fields of an abandoned farm. He hurdled the timbers easily, seeing also through his Claw's eyes the tangled vegetation at ground level and understanding the scents that she encountered there. A wisp of leather, the strong smells of damp earth and rotting vegetables.

Nothing moved in the ruins of the farmhouse. It had no roof and all of its wooden walls were holed and splintered, one collapsed entirely. Beyond it, and quite suddenly, a new scent was on the air, coming to them on the prevailing breeze. They halted again, she flat against the earth, he crouching by a broken wall. It was an unusual taste, masked such that although it was undeniably human, it was frayed somehow, hard to pinpoint.

His Claw echoed his slight confusion, even her highly developed receptors having difficulty deciphering what she was scenting on the breeze. Ultimately, her mind cleared and she set off, angling south and west, paws making no sound, head up, constantly checking her direction. He strode behind her, watching the land and the sky, determined that they would not be surprised from the air, or by hidden creatures as their unfortunate kin had been.

They travelled on, leaving the farmhouse far behind, his Claw turning first west and then north-west. He could see the route turning inexorably towards the elven camp. A threat approached the resting elves. They would hunt it down.

The panther increased her pace and he ran too, the scent strong, its masking failing as they closed. Ahead of them, open land rose gently towards the camp. It was empty but they had been told to trust their noses and disbelieve their eyes.

They ran on, the knowledge of the threat all around them but nothing bar the scent to confirm its presence. They had no clear target and the breeze picked up immediately they hit the open ground. He slowed and stopped in the rise, his Claw circling, growling deep in her throat. They were close, he could feel it. He ignored the emptiness, turning a slow circle himself, the smell all around him but stronger in two areas. They had been told this too. These men did not travel alone.

Beneath his feet, the grass was wet and footfalls quiet upon it. He studied it, looking for the darker trails that would signify the passage of man over the ankle-high grass. And there were trails but they were so many. Animals passed this way and these men were clever, walking in the tracks of the fox or the horse.

His Claw's ears pricked and she stopped in mid stride, paw raised, her whiskers twitching. Her head swivelled round until she was staring at the space right in front of him. Her eyes could discern something his could not. He used them, seeing in the few yards between them, a ghosting over the landscape, a caressing of the grass in the tracks of an animal. Like a mist that moved so slowly it barely blew at all. But move it did.