Valyn tossed the pack down on the grass and sorted through the weapons and clothes. The dry wool felt good on his skin, and the soft leather boots gave some cushion to his battered feet. The run had both dried and warmed him, and he flexed his hands and fingers, working out the last stubborn patches of stiffness, then rolled his shoulders in their sockets. Already the memory of the desperate cold had started to fade.

“All right,” he said finally. “We travel by night for two days, until we’re well clear of the border. Il Tornja has no idea where we are, no idea that we’re still alive, no idea that we’re coming for him, but he’s sure to sit up and take notice if one of his patrols picks up the remnants of a Kettral Wing wandering around just south of the White.”

“We still don’t know if the kenarang is responsible for your father’s death,” Talal pointed out. “Balendin might have been lying.”

Valyn nodded. “He might have been lying, but I doubt it. Balendin was frightened when Long Fist questioned him, almost terrified. You both saw him.” He hesitated, then decided to leave out the fact that he had also smelled the leach’s fear, had tasted it, like a thick, bilious skim over spoiled milk. “Either way, there’s no reason to take chances. We stay out of sight until we have some ’Kent-kissing idea what’s going on.”

“I liked it better when we had ’Ra,” Laith said, shaking his head. “I hope she made it clear of the steppe. No telling what those Urghul bastards might do with her if they took her down.”

“I’m sure she’s—” Talal began, but Valyn cut him off with a curt chop of the hand.

Somewhere behind them, off to the north but hammering closer in a dull tattoo, Valyn could make out the sound of horses.

Laith cocked an ear, then half spread his hands. “What?”

“Riders,” Valyn said, “pushing hard.”

The flier glanced at Talal. “You hear anything?”

“Just the wind,” Talal replied.

“They’re coming,” Valyn said, crouching down to set an ear to the earth. He listened a moment more, then nodded. “About a mile off. Riding at a canter.”

“A canter at night over this ground?” Talal shook his head. “Dangerous.”

Laith pressed his own ear to the dirt, waited a long time, then stood. “I have no idea how you heard that, but I hear them now. Sounds like they’re on some sort of path. The earth is packed.”

Talal had cocked his head to one side, twisting the iron bracelet on his wrist absently as he did so. “I think they’re going to pass us to the west. We should be all right.”

“You using some kind of secret leach trick?” Laith asked.

“Yes, very secret. Very tricky. It’s called listening.”