“It appears,” Curdle said with amusement. “That our path is only ours to know.”

Deglan felt an odd mixture of pride and worry. “Madigan teach her that?”

Curdle shrugged. “I do not know.”

As they travelled the sun began to set, throwing the last of its brightness through gaps in the leaves. They found Sweat and Panic waiting for them in a snug clearing off the track, showing where Madigan meant for them to camp. Blink rushed forward and the dogs bounded to meet her, sniffing and licking, circling and nuzzling. Blink patted at them, leaning away from their rough tongues, smiling with delight. She put her arms around Panic’s neck, while Sweat laid down, exposing his belly until Blink took notice and went to her knees, hands rubbing freely.

This nightly ritual still made Deglan nervous. The hounds’ noses overtopped the child’s head and he knew the animals to be tenacious hunters. Madigan’s dogs frightened even Kederic’s warriors. It was the men of the fort who had named them, claiming that a man would only succeed in two things if he ran from them. They gossiped that Madigan had freed a barghest matriarch from a hunter’s trap and she had gifted him with two of her pups in gratitude. Other versions had him coupling with the animal after freeing her and said the dogs were his own offspring. Whatever the truth, Sweat and Panic were two of the canniest beasts Deglan had encountered, and, like the men of the fort, he was uneasy in their presence. But what bothered him most was how normal they became when Blink was around. They scampered and hopped…their tails wagged and they played with the child with something that could only be called tenderness. A little girl playing with the dogs; a common sight across the farms and feasting halls of the known world, and yet, something remained off. Like their mysterious master, Sweat and Panic had no voice. They were as silent as the death they brought to those they pursued, as silent as the child they now played with.

Deglan set to work gathering fire wood, keeping one eye cocked at Blink and her playmates. Curdle set about digging through their provisions for the evening meal, but most of them would end up being packed right back up. Madigan always returned with fresh game.

He did not arrive until after dark. Deglan had the fire going strongly and after glancing down to shift a log with a stick, he looked up to find the huntsman standing over him, a brace of rabbits hanging from each fist.

“That trick,” Deglan said casually, “no longer surprises me. But don’t worry Sure Finder, I am still shocked you cook your meat.”

Madigan said nothing. He tossed one of the rabbits to Sweat and another to Panic. The dogs caught them cleanly in their jaws and padded away to eat outside the light of the fire.