He had to believe that she was holding strong. She was the most courageous, clever, and indomitable person he’d ever met. She’d find a way to survive this, he had to believe in that. But with every minute, every hour, every day that trickled by, he knew her chances of emerging unscathed dwindled. He chomped at the bit to race after her, to bring her home and begin the process of healing.

No other alternative bore contemplating.

Gabriel never thought he’d be happy to see hunters, but the strong, stinking sense of their imminent presence came as a relief. He whistled like one of the songbirds that frequented the orchard, three times in a row, their agreed signal. Alise’s pet spirits scuttled through the branches, a second warning, in case anyone missed the first.

Iliana did an impressive job of appearing surprised and terrified to see the hunters loping toward her. She leapt to her feet, screaming shrilly, and began dashing away between the straight row of trees. Han jumped up, too, from his feigned sleep, squaring off with his sword in one hand and the dagger in the other. “Run, Iliana!” he shouted, their third and final signal, in case someone had managed to miss the rest.

Some of the hunters encircled Han, who turned warily, making a show of fighting panic, trying to keep an eye on them all at once. The rest sprinted after Iliana. With the herd of hunters duly separated, she stopped running, putting her back to a tree and nocking an arrow. Drawing her bow, she tremulously told them to stay away.

Holding himself in place, Gabriel counted, hunters and seconds. Reports from those who’d witnessed House Sammael’s arrival and abduction of Nic had varied, some claiming there had been a dozen or more hunters, others insisting there’d been no more than nine. Or ten. People under strain tended not to remember details clearly, especially those unused to battle or facing any kind of intimidating enemy. Most everyone there had been too focused on trying to make sense of the existence of hunters in the first place, with little wit left over to count them.

Five hunters circled Han, and four formed a loose arc around Iliana. She trembled violently enough to be visibly shaking from this distance, her fear not faked now as she tried to choose a target. Just a moment or two more, Gabriel thought at her. Hold steady. He really didn’t want to risk having extra hunters come up behind them. He also didn’t want to betray their secret weapon too soon.

Hunters weren’t terribly bright, but they weren’t complete fools either.

Gabriel had about decided that was all of them and was on the verge of giving the signal to attack when two more hunters strolled out of the trees from the sides, each carrying one of the loathsome iron collars that seemed part of their standard package for capturing and humiliating familiars. Eleven total. One loped in a tripod gallop, on two legs and one hand, toward Iliana, while the other walked upright toward Han, right below Gabriel’s perch. Gabriel vibrated with the restrained impulse to kill it immediately.