“We are,” Valyn replied absently, scanning the far bank for rising smoke or some other sign of one of the forts. After years flying on the back of a kettral, it was frustrating to be tethered to the horizon. Five minutes in the air, and he’d know everything he needed to know, but he didn’t have five minutes in the air. He spared a thought for Suant’ra, hoping that she had returned to the Eyrie somehow. That would be the best thing for her, and it would play into his own plans as well. A bird returning empty usually meant the Wing was dead, and if people thought he was dead, maybe they’d stop hunting him for a while, long enough, at least, for him to get close to il Tornja and find out what was going on. To kill the man if necessary.

He was still grappling with Balendin’s revelation. He had known, of course, that the plot to destroy his family extended into the highest strata of Annurian society, into the Dawn Palace itself—there was no other way to explain the involvement of both the Mizran Councillor and a large portion of the Aedolian Guard. Still, it felt different to have a name. The name. If Balendin was to be believed, il Tornja had devised the entire plot. He had pulled Yurl’s strings and Balendin’s, Ut’s and Adiv’s. Every death could be laid at his feet.

Something dark and bestial coiled around Valyn’s heart, squeezing, squeezing, until the air burned in his lungs. His knuckles ached, and he realized he was clutching his belt knife, that he’d drawn the blade halfway from its sheath as though the kenarang stood before him. He stared at the hand. The knuckles were pale, tendons rigid beneath the skin of the wrist.

“Leave the horses here?” Talal asked, breaking into his thoughts.

Valyn hesitated, shuddered away the rage, slid the knife back into the sheath before anyone could notice, then nodded. Even the indefatigable Urghul beasts couldn’t swim the massive flow. It would mean running on the far side, but running was nothing new. Once they hit settled territory it wouldn’t be difficult to steal new horses.

“No bird,” Laith grumbled as they dismounted, then turned their mounts free. “No horses. We might as well be slogging around in the ’Kent-kissing legions.”

“Makes you feel for the common soldier, doesn’t it?” Talal asked.

Laith stared at the leach as though he were mad. “Hull can have the common soldier. I joined up with the Kettral to avoid this kind of shit.”

“Luckily,” Valyn cut in, “you know how to swim. At least you’re not stuck back in the Urghul camp.”