Is this the day your death is redeemed, Kauneo my love? I have borne it around my neck for so long. As you willed, so I do. This was a vicious malice, big and getting bigger fast. It would nearly be worthy of her, Dag thought. Nearly.

He drew the second, empty bone blade and laid the two back to back. They come in pairs, oh yes. One for you and one for me. He slipped them away again.

Mari too bore sharing knives, and so did Utau and Chato, gifts of mortality from patrollers before them. Mari’s current set was a legacy from one of her sons, he knew, and as dear to her as these to Dag. The patrol was well supplied. Who used theirs on a malice was not normally a matter of drawing straws, or heroics, or honor. Whoever first could, did. Any way they could. As efficiently as possible. It wasn’t as though there wouldn’t be another chance later.

Dag’s ground was quivering at the drain from the malice’s presence, an effect that would bleed over into his body if he lingered here much longer. Sensitive young patrollers were often so disturbed by their first encounter with a malice’s aura, it took them weeks to recover. Dag had been one such. Once.

Now: go. Back to the horse, and gallop like a madman to the rendezvous point.

Yet…there were so few creatures in the camp. The opportunity beckoned for a, so to speak, single-handed attempt. Down the ravine side, fly across the creek, up into that cave…it could all be over in minutes. In the time it took to bring the patrol up, the malice too might draw in its reinforcements (and where were they now, doing what mischief?), turning the attack into a potentially costly fight just to regain a proximity he had right now. Dag thought of Saun. Had he lived the night?

But with his groundsense thwarted, Dag couldn’t see how many men or mud-men might be hidden in the cave with the malice. If he went charging in there only to present his head to the enemy, the difficulties his patrol must then face would grow vastly worse. Also, I would be dead. In a way, he was glad that last prospect still had the power to disturb him. At least some.

He lowered his face, fought for control of his hastened breathing, and prepared to withdraw. His lips twisted. Mari will be so proud of me.