The Banished of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood, #1)(23)

“Thank you,” Maia replied. She walked back to the window and shut it, resting against the sill. “I am grateful for the bath. It was overdue.”

He glanced at the edge of the tub, where her wet dress was folded. “Ah, and you washed the other dress. Let it hang by the brazier to dry in the night. You will need it again when we try to cross the mountains. Always have layers. In the morning, I will fetch the supplies we need early so we can be on our way. The king’s army may be thirty leagues away, but that is closer than I would like.”

“What do you make of what Collier told us tonight?” Maia asked him, but she included the kishion in her look, seeking his input as well.

“Part threat, part warning,” the hunter said. He sniffed and shrugged. “These mountains are vast, my lady. And I know a few trails that the king knows not. Some are more dangerous than others. I was warning your friend—”

The kishion interrupted. “He knows a pass into Mon that no one takes or guards. There is a grey rank there, he says.”

“My lady, a grey rank is worse than a bear. In Pry-Ree, they are called the Fear Liath. They prey on the mind as well as the flesh. It is possible to cross the pass if you start at sunrise and make it through while there is daylight. The risk is being caught on the other side after dusk. These things move with wicked speed.”

“We know,” Maia said, her heart cringing with the memories.

He stared at her, slack-jawed.

“We faced one already,” Maia said. “It sounds like the best route to avoid the sentries, so we must take it.”

“Lady Maia,” Jon Tayt said, stepping near her. His eyes were earnest. “I have faced nearly every beast or creature that roams the woods. I fear very little, not storms or shadows or even hulking bears. But I do dread the Fear Liath, and I cannot protect you from one. Neither can he.”

“It is as you said, we will travel during the day and cross the mountains before dusk.”

“It is a hard journey, my lady.”

“I am used to hard journeys. That is our road. We must avoid Dahomey’s army.”

An amused smile came over Jon Tayt’s mouth. “Of course. But when I ready for a trip, I plan for the worst. The worst is the Fear Liath, but there are other dangers. In mountains such as these, there are flash storms. It can be sunny and cheerful one moment and then, with no warning, a storm can come in from the other side, dropping a mountain of snow in short order. Or the wind can be especially fierce. Crossing that pass is not the same every day. Any of these hindrances may delay us enough . . .”

“We must take the risk,” Maia said, frowning with determination. She pushed strands of dark damp hair over her ear and folded her arms.

His forehead wrinkled in concern. “If we get caught in the mountains at night, this thing will hunt us and kill us. I would advise that we choose another little-used pass. We may need to fight past sentries, but I would prefer that to the risk of facing a Fear Liath.”

Maia glanced at the kishion. His eyes were wary, but he nodded at her. Strangely, she knew what he was thinking.

“The Fear Liath will not delay us,” Maia said. “I can send it away.”

Jon Tayt sighed. “I advise that we are taking unnecessary risks. But I am only your guide. You pick the trail.”

“Thank you. There may be no need to use my magic at all. We may cross the mountain in daylight and be done with it. We leave in the morning.”

“Very well. Come, Argus.” He clapped his leg and the boarhound rose from Maia’s feet and trotted to his side.

After they left the room, Maia listened to the heavy sound of the hunter’s boot steps move down the hall and then clomp down the steps. As the sounds started to fade, she folded her arms and stared at the kishion.

“Do not harm him when this is done,” she said.

A twitch of a smile came and faded. “I knew you would insist on that,” he replied gruffly, shaking his head. “You trust men too easily.”

She looked him level in the eye. “No, not really. I do not trust that you will not harm him unless you promise me that you will not. Promise me.”

“I make no such promises,” the kishion replied, anger reaching his eyes. “I would kill the dog first. He is the more dangerous of the two.”

She gritted her teeth. “He has been a help to us.”

“I do not argue that. But he knows who you are. He knows much he is not saying.”

“Do not harm him, kishion,” she warned.

He took a step closer to her, his face hardening. “I will do what is in your best interest, my lady. Whether or not you see it thus.” His eyes narrowed coldly. “While we are threatening and warning each other, I will add my own. Say nothing to him about me. He made his own choices. I made mine when I agreed to protect you. Now get some rest while you have a bed. We will be sleeping on the ground tomorrow.”

Her heart burned with anger, but she decided not to argue. She did not truly believe she could dismiss him from service. Her father had hired him, and she had the suspicion he would not abandon her willingly. That meant she would have to help Jon Tayt survive the kishion’s blade. She nodded stubbornly and went to the bed. It was small and narrow, like the room, but it had been over a fortnight since she had set sail from Comoros. Sleeping here would be a luxury. Turning away from the kishion, she stared at the window and watched the branches outside sway with the wind. There were so many conflicting priorities in her heart, the mass of them burdened her. Her people were being destroyed by a power they could not see—the Myriad Ones. The King of Dahomey preyed on weaker countries and was obviously preparing to invade her father’s realm. Her protector wanted to kill everyone who was useful to her. The Dochte Mandar hunted her.