“Not if we keep our distance, corpse,” says a voice from the back. I bring my arms up over my face just in time for a stone to connect solidly with my forearm. I gasp at the pain and turn to run, but I only manage ten steps before my legs get tangled and I pitch forward. The ground comes up hard. A rock thuds to my left, sending a spray of pebbles toward me.

Diadem hisses in my ear. Only by some miracle have I managed not to crush her.

The men are still coming, though the nearest have stopped a safe distance away. The look in their eyes turns my stomach to ice—it’s a mob that’s tasted blood. I realize, as I desperately try to untangle the cloth around me, that they can easily kill me here. My skin flushes hot, as if my rosemarks were radiating heat. Once again, I look for Dineas, but he’s nowhere in sight. Even if he were around, for him to intervene in view of Amparan soldiers would be suicide.

My snake is gripping me so hard now that she threatens to cut off my blood flow. I whistle under my breath and she relaxes her hold. I’m glad to have her with me, but Diadem can’t save me this time. I throw off my hat and veil, blinking in the sun. The men recoil at the sight of my skin as I fumble to untie the blowgun from my waist.

A shriek splits the air and a shadow drops out of the sky. A man in front throws up his hands to avoid the crow’s talons. As the first bird pulls away, a second one dives, pecking at the man’s face.

“What witchcraft—” The rest of the man’s sentence is cut off as a third crow swoops down. The man grabs at the bird—Scrawny?—as it dodges out of the way. The men scatter and run back toward the road with the birds in pursuit.

I don’t waste my time looking after them. Instead, I grab my hat and walk away from the road as quickly as I can. Only when I’m far enough that I can’t hear the men’s shouts do I finally turn south again.

A short while later, I again hear footsteps behind me. I take a nervous glance back and relax slightly when I see Dineas’s familiar form. I keep walking.

His footsteps draw closer, but still I don’t look at him.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

I glance toward the road. It’s getting darker now, but a sharp-eyed traveler could still see us. “You shouldn’t be here,” I say under my breath. “And it was foolish to send the crows. Your travel documents aren’t good enough to be attracting attention like this.”