“See? She likes you. Besides, she’s sworn to the Hawk code. Rule number one is ‘I will serve my nation and the throne above all.’ If you’re looking for loyalty, the master-general would roll across a league of rusty nails before she refused a royal command.”

Fie gnawed on her free thumb-tip, chewing the notion over. What would Pa say about this? Walking direct into a Hawk nest?

Worse than walking into the queen’s trap? Which part of it would get Pa killed? How many of her Crows had it killed already?

She swallowed hard. Pa’s tooth still hummed on her string. He was alive, and she would have to be a chief for him. She could dance in the hells of her own moods later.

Hawks. The Marovar. The easy answer. That alone bode ill. “There anywhere else we might try?”

Tavin donned his blank face, the one that said he paid great mind where he treaded. “The regional governors are all Peacocks, except for in the Marovar. If even Jas’s cousin has fallen in with Rhusana…”

Jasimir’s face dropped. “That means we can’t trust the Peacocks. Any of them.”

“Oh no, not the Peacocks,” Fie drawled, “they’ve been such a boon.”

Tavin pretended not to hear. “And their Hawks answer to regional governors. So that rules out both castes. And Rhusana came from the Swan caste, so they’ll back her—”

“Fine, fine,” Fie interrupted. “I get it, we’re rutted, it’s the Marovar or nothing. But what’s to keep Tatterhelm from puzzling that out himself and beating us there?”

Jasimir flinched. “She’s got a point.”

“She usually does,” Tavin said under his breath.

“She’s right here,” Fie snapped.

“Apologies. You’re right, he’ll expect us to go straight to the master-general. But we can use that to throw him off. Markahns run every fort in the Marovar, so any of them will take us in and send word to Draga. From here the nearest fortress is Trikovoi, in the southern end of the mountains. If we make it, we’ll be safe.”

“We?” she asked. “Or you two? I’ve dealt bad with enough Hawk scummers for one moon.”

Tavin’s mouth twisted. “You’ll be fine while you’re with us,” he admitted. “And Draga. Draga hates unpaid debts.”

“That makes three people I can trust, out of every fort in the Marovar.” Fie gave him a long, cold scowl that said plain how much faith she put in those three. “What of the rest?”

The look Tavin gave her said even plainer that she was right to doubt. “The rest know what happens if you cross Draga.” He stood. “We need to get as far from Cheparok as we can tonight. Are we ready to move?”

“Lead the way,” Prince Jasimir said, collecting his torch.

Tavin held a hand out to Fie.

Something hitched in her gut.