Fie couldn’t stopper up a laugh. This time, Hangdog wasn’t the only one to shoot her a look.

She ducked her head, ears burning.

Pa cleared his throat from the driver’s bench. “How’s that practice, Fie?”

“Coming along,” she snapped, and unfurled her fist. The teeth had bit two hollows into her palm. Beyond the wagon, Wretch set on a new walking song, a marching hymn to the dead god Crossroads-Eyes.

“Lord Hawk.” Pa patted the bench. “A word.”

Tavin clambered over to Pa. Jasimir hunched into a sulk disguised as a nap, but Fie paid it no heed, glowering at her Pigeon teeth. Wasn’t her fault if nobody else had cut him a slice of hard truth before.

“How may I be of service?” Tavin asked, settling beside Pa.

When Pa spoke, Fie had to strain to hear over the cart’s rattle. “Tell me about the queen’s Vultures.”

Fie caught her breath.

The bench creaked as Tavin shifted. “Are they on our trail?”

“Something is.” Pa flicked the reins. “They won’t catch up unless they’re riding devils themselves, but…”

When, not if. No wonder Pa had stared at the road so.

Fie stole a glance at Prince Jasimir. He’d traded the fake nap for a true one, eyes shut against the noon sun, head lolling against the railing.

“Rhusana keeps five skinwitches in her pay,” Tavin muttered low. “Four are just trackers. Damned good trackers, but you, me, or Fie could easily drop them in a fight.”

“And the fifth?”

Tavin paused. “Greggur Tatterhelm,” he said at last. “The queen’s favorite. Biggest northman I’ve ever seen. You’d swear his father had a deviant shine for mammoths. He cuts a notch in his helmet for every mark he brings in, one if they’re alive, two if they’re dead.”

“Tatter-helm,” Pa drawled. “Quaint.”

“He’s not the best skinwitch, nor the fastest. But he’s all twelve hells to cross.”

“Hm.” The bench creaked again under Pa’s weight. “And this lord in Cheparok, he’s sound and true, aye?”

“What?”

“You boys trust him to hold to your plan?”

“Of course,” Tavin said a little too loud. Pa let the unanswered silence speak for itself. Tavin lowered his voice. “The governors of the Fan have been the crown’s strongest allies for centuries. Besides, Cheparok sits on the biggest trading bay in the south. No country will do business with a nation on the brink of civil war. Kuvimir’s been very clear who he stands with.”

“I see.”

The last time Fie had heard Pa use that tone was just yesterday, when the Crane arbiter had told them their viatik was only firewood.