Samm led them through a wide courtyard, wading through waist-high saplings with buildings on every side. They heard more hoofbeats on the road behind them, and they collapsed into the underbrush with abject exhaustion. This time the riders stopped, their horses slowly turning as they examined the area.

“Think it was them?” said one.

“That or a cat,” said the other. They eased their horses closer, still looking around. Moonlight glinted faintly off the long metal lines of their rifles.

“Too much noise for a cat,” said the first. “Give me the light.”

Kira didn’t dare to move or even breathe. The second rider pulled a flashlight from his saddlebag and handed it to the first, who clicked it on and shined it at the building on their left—a church of some kind, broken and leafy. Samm moved his rifle into position, sighting carefully at the first rider, but Kira shook her head: We can’t afford the noise.

We can’t kill our own people.

There was a soft knock on a far wall, and the riders looked up in unison. They shined the light on the building, but Kira couldn’t see anything. They led their horses toward it, and Xochi whispered softly.

“I threw a rock. Let’s get out of here before they come back.”

They crept backward through the brush, inch by inch, always keeping their eyes on the riders. Marcus stood and hurled another rock, farther this time, and the riders paused, listened, and finally followed it. Kira stood as well, leaning on Samm as she rose, and the group backed around the corner of the ruined church.

“There’s more over there,” Samm whispered, pointing west toward the bay. He looked at Kira, his eyes lost in shadow. “Sooner or later we’re going to have to shoot someone.”

Kira closed her eyes, trying to clear her head. “I know this is dangerous, and I know it might come to guns—that’s why we have them. But I don’t want to shoot anybody if we can get away with it.”

“We might not have a choice,” said Samm.

The bushes rustled behind them, and Kira heard the stamp and snort of the horses. Samm raised his rifle, but Kira stopped him again.

They waited, holding their breath, praying for the soldiers to move on. An eternity later, they did.

“They’re moving south,” Samm whispered. “Don’t waste it—move.”

The group was practically running now, watching the ground in front of their feet because they couldn’t see any farther. The road plunged into forest, and soon the dark shape of a massive house rose out of the trees beside them.

“There,” said Kira. “A lot of these mansions have private docks.”