Dasen recovered slowly from the shock of what he had just seen. At the shelter, he had not believed or understood what Teth was saying. It was too much to comprehend: an army from the west where there were only impassible mountains, monsters from a children’s stories, someone searching for him. He could not hope to explain, but the sight of the creature in the sky ended his need for explanation. It was real. That was enough for now.
Enough that was, except for his concern for his father and Rynn. He could not keep his thoughts from them. Teth had said that the man at the stream wanted him, but the only reason anyone would have any interest in him was something to do with his father. If the men in the village were not bandits looking for ransom, if they were associated with the men at the stream – or the creature from that morning – then his father was very much in danger. The thought sent a tremor through him.
“Hurry up!” pulled him from the darkness of his imagination. “I want to be across the river before those things get anywhere close to us.” The words had come from well ahead where Teth was scarcely visible through the darkening trees.
Cursing, Dasen pushed his musing aside and concentrated on the hike. He even made a competition of it. He dreamed of catching Teth, planned what he would say, imagined her surprise, her admiration. The sight of her drawing closer spurred him on, and soon the challenge was so strong that all he could see was her back through the trees. Her stride was smooth and easy. Her bounding steps were unaffected by the rough ground. She flowed around obstructions like a ghost, but Dasen told himself that he could catch her.
He was not disappointed. After a long, strenuous effort, he drew within a few strides of her. His breath was rattling in his lungs, his legs were aching, and a stitch was starting in his side, but he had caught her. He was drawing the ragged breath to crow his triumph when she glanced over her shoulder. “Good. You finally caught up. Now stay with me. There’s a trail up here that should make the going easier.”
The pace was even faster after that. Dasen somehow kept it, but he was not sure how. His legs trembled. The cramp in his side was a dagger. The expanding darkness made it impossible to find his footing. And the pack seemed to get heavier with each step, the belt biting on his hips like pincers. He was just thinking that he was finished when they arrived at Teth’s trail.
Mercifully, she called a stop. Dasen wanted to kiss her but consigned himself to leaning against a large stone to catch his breath. While he panted, Teth paced or watched the sky. If she was the slightest bit tired, it did not show and her feet would not believe it. They never stopped moving as she circled like a cat in a cage.
“Are you ready?” She gave in to her impatience when his hands rose from his knees.
“How much farther is it to this bridge of yours?” Dasen finally had enough breath to ask. “I don’t think I can keep this pace all night, at least not with this pack. And won’t the . . .” he searched for an appropriate word “. . . things just follow us across the river?”
“From here, it’s about three miles to the bridge. It is a rope bridge, so we can cut the ropes if we get there before your friends. Once that bridge is down, they’ll have to go all the way to Randor’s Pass to cross.” Dasen opened his mouth for another question, but Teth answered it before he could start. “Believe me, not even a fish could cross the White River anywhere within a mile of that bridge.
“As for the flying things, whatever they are . . . .” Teth gave the sky a pensive look. “The forest on the other side of the bridge is dense. If we’re careful, they won’t be able to follow us. Of course, all that depends on us making it to the bridge before they do.”
That ended the discussion. Teth held up a hand, turned to the trail, and resumed her breakneck pace. Dasen moaned as the weight of the pack came back onto his hips but followed as quickly as his wobbling legs could manage.