Then she realized she was not only second-guessing herself but that this was totally wishful thinking. These priests would, of course, have some way of telling whether or not humans had died here. It would be ridiculous of them not to; Stev had made the point that this kind of indifferent slaughter was what they did. And given what a mess the demons had made with a few wild creatures, the priests would want to verify what they’d torn to tiny pieces.

Plus, there is no way I could have stopped Jicks once she had heads with bounties on them in her sight. Jicks might have said at the outset of this trip that she was happy, it was easy money for not killing anyone, but the longer they had gone without a fight, the more restless she had become. She had welcomed the chance to hunt down these Karsites. She’s probably so used to being in fights that if she goes without one for too long, it’s like a regular drinker being without a drink.

Combine that restlessness with the bounties available . . .

Then something occurred to Abi. Huh. I think she knows herself better than I thought. She said she wanted to buy a very particular pub. I bet it’s one that gets rough customers. So she’d be breaking up fights and throwing people out regularly, which would solve her need to periodically break skulls.

A crawling sensation distracted her from her thoughts. Was that a bug? Was something moving around her leg? She worked her hand around to the spot and tried to squash whatever was between her leg and breeches. Hard to tell if she was successful, but at least the sensation stopped. It’s a good thing I have a lot of practice at waiting. This isn’t that different from shadowing someone Papa wants watched.

Then movement at the edge of her vision made her lose interest in bugs or anything else. There was something bobbing up and down on the horizon, moving above and below the bracken. Someone was coming.

Heads. Those were definitely human heads.

Two someones. Now two figures against the horizon. Then three. Then four.

At least the odds are—

Five and six.

Oh . . . hell.

She tensed, ready to throw the hide aside and attack. The ambushers would become the ambushed. Even though the odds were not in her favor, if the three of them with bows could take out three of the priests on the first volley, they’d bring things back in line. Her breathing shortened and her heart raced. Wait for the signal. Wait for it. Wait for it . . .

An owl hooted. She threw herself erect, sent the hide flying off her shoulders with a gesture, bow in hand, sighted, and shot. And hit.

And her heart sank. Oh, hell!