I’ll pretend I’m going to let him kiss me. Then I’ll grab his hair and knock him unconscious. We won’t need to kill—

Belaset sprang up and grabbed the guard by the hair.

“Knock him—” Ashyn began.

The blade slashed.

“No!”

It was too late. The guard’s throat split before he could pull his blade. He gurgled blood. Ashyn stared in horror as Belaset grabbed her arm and yanked her toward the door.

“Hurry, child!”

Belaset pulled Ashyn outside. Ashyn resisted at first but quickly realized there was nothing she could do. She tumbled out the wagon door, hitting the ground. The night was silent and still.

“Tova,” she said. “I need to find—”

“Your dog? We can’t worry about him. Hurry!”

“No, go on. Keep the dagger. I’ll . . .” She swallowed. “I’ll take the guard’s.”

Belaset shook her head. “There’s no time. Find your dog quickly. He can’t be far.”

Tova was right under the wagon. Sound asleep, still unconscious from the dart. As Ashyn shook him, her heart pounded.

He leaped up with a snort, and she threw her arms around his broad neck.

“There’s no time for that,” Belaset said. “Hurry!”

Belaset raced off. Ashyn untied Tova and caught up. She had no idea which way to go—the plains all looked the same to her—but she trusted Belaset. They ran until they reached a patch of scraggly bushes. Belaset crouched behind them.

“Here’s where we part, child. The road is that way.” She pointed. “I trust you can find your camp?”

“Come with me,” Ashyn said. “You’ll be safer. We’re all armed. My sister is well trained with a blade, and we have a warrior escort. We’ll take you back to the city.”

“There is nothing for me in the city.”

“Then we’ll take you someplace safe.”

“You’ve been kind, but I’m going my own way, Ashyn of Edgewood. I trust you’ll allow me to take this blade.”

The request caught Ashyn off guard. It was a fine dagger, one she’d used since she was a child. If Belaset wanted a blade, she should have gone back for the guard’s, when Ashyn mentioned it. As soon as she hesitated, she felt shamed. Ashyn could easily get another.

“Of course,” she said. “Take it. Please.”

“And that ring?”

“Ring? I . . . I am sorry, but I cannot part with that. It was my mother’s.”

“I think I have earned it, child.”

“My father left it for me. When he died. Barely seven nights ago.” Ashyn heard the edge in her voice and the snap in her words. Yet there wasn’t an inkling of understanding in Belaset’s eyes, much less shame.

“You can buy many rings,” the girl said. “I will take that one, in payment for my services.”

“No, you will not—”