“Our change in direction gave us a little more time,” Odd said. “But they’re about half a day behind us, and finding us won’t be a problem. We’ve left a gigantic trail.”

“Where’s Kerrick?” Flea asked.

“Resting, I hope. He’s beyond exhausted,” I said.

Flea met my gaze. “Do you think I could...”

“You don’t look any better, Flea.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a different kind of...tired.”

True. Expending magical energy was unlike using physical energy, but there was a hard limit to both. “You can try, but don’t go overboard like Kerrick does.”

Flea stood and scanned the trees. “Where...”

“Just look for Huxley...the horse. He stays close to Kerrick.”

No one commented—more proof they’d all sapped their strength.

“Now what?” Odd asked.

Loren gestured to the clumps of women. “Once we cross the border and find the ladies some decent clothes, they should break up into smaller groups and disperse to the other realms.”

“Will Estrid’s troops chase them over the border?” I asked.

“Depends on how pissed she is,” Odd said. “Technically she’s not allowed, but since the plague...”

All bets were off.

I gazed at the quiet women. They resembled a brown carpet spread along the forest floor. Fydelia moved among them, talking and checking on their cuts and bruises. Melina stayed with the wounded, whom I’d been neglecting. Grunting in pain, I stood, intent on helping.

Fydelia noticed me and came over. “Avry, I want to thank you for—”

I held up my hand. “Still not out of the woods yet.”

She smiled at the pun. “We won’t go back without a fight.”

“We’re thinking you’ll need to separate into small groups of five or six at some point,” Loren said. “You can all disperse back to your lives.”

“Oh, no,” Fydelia said. “We won’t be doing that. We’re trained soldiers. Avry told us about Prince Ryne and his efforts. We plan to fight for him.”

Shocked, I gazed at her. “All of you?”

“At least ninety percent. A few are older, and the years in the monastery affected others.” She tapped her temple.

“That’s generous,” Loren said.

“It’s logical. What’s the point in going home? If Cellina’s army wins, or that Skeleton King, we all suffer the consequences. Better to not let that happen.”

“I wish Estrid believed that,” I said.

Quain had opened his eyes while Fydelia talked. His brow wrinkled as he pursed his lips. “Do you think Prince Ryne would welcome us back now?”

“Oh, yes. With open arms,” Loren said.

“Do we want to go back?” he asked.

“It’s not a matter of desire. It’s like Fydelia said, logic. He needs us, and he’s going to be very happy to have twenty-three hundred more soldiers,” I said.

“Maybe he won’t argue with you anymore,” Quain said.

“I doubt it,” Kerrick said.