“One and the same. And you’re Darsal, one of the chosen. Why are you alone?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Because I was told that you were under strict orders not to leave the village.”

Darsal realized her mistake then. The Roush knew what was happening, which meant that Johnis would soon know what was happening. There was no way she could make it to the Roush village without Johnis, Silvie, and even Thomas knowing exactly what she was up to.

She looked back through the trees. Still no sign of pursuit.

You’re throwing yourself off a cliff, Darsal. How far will you go for him?

She answered herself immediately. As far as Johnis would go to find what is precious to him.

“Are there others around?” she asked. “Like you, I mean?”

“Roush? I can cover a flank by myself, thank you. But, yes, there are more.”

“Where?”

“To the east, near the lake. Where you should be, I’m guessing. You humans always do manage to lose your way.”

To the east, good.

“You’re right; I should be bathing in the lake. But before I hurry back, I have a burning question.”

“Then put it out.”

“Put what out?”

“Your burning question. Douse it in lake water.”

“I was hoping you could put it out. By answering it.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll do my best. I have been known to ‘crack the wit’ now and then.” The Roush swept down and landed on the path, grinning at his own humor. “You do understand,” the Roush said. “It’s a play on words . . .”

“Yes, yes, of course. Crack the whip; crack the wit. Do you mind sitting closer, on the horse? Can you do that, or will the horse bolt?”

“No, not a problem.” Hunter leapt up to the mount’s rump. “You see. Not a problem; none at all.”

“Hmm. The horse doesn’t even know you’re here?”

“Sure it does. And it could sleep like a chick with me perched on its head, for that matter. Roush are enemies of no one but Shataiki.”

“Really? You could sit on its head? Show me.”

Eager to demonstrate, Hunter flew around Darsal, landed with both claws between the horse’s ears, and grinned. “Not bad balance, eh? I’m not scratching him, or he would bolt. Gentle as a leaf. Now, what is that question?”

Darsal wasn’t sure how to go about capturing a Roush, but she’d convinced herself that she had no choice. Too much was at stake. Billos needed her.

She leaned forward as if to ask the question in a quieter voice, then shot her hands out and clamped them around the Roush’s soft belly.

“What, no, that tickles! No, no!” Hunter began to cackle with laughter, loudly enough to wake the forest.

Now fully committed, Darsal tugged the animal toward her and was immediately rewarded with wings whacking at the air.