“What have they done to you?” he murmured, fighting down nausea and fury. She was a blueblood, after all. It wasn’t supposed to work like this.

His mind raced. Had she escaped from the Bayars? Had the Byrnes rescued her? Had Amon Byrne been among the dead at Way Camp and he hadn’t noticed? Or was Corporal Byrne out in the woods somewhere, dead or wounded?

But Byrne had said he was traveling straight north, entering the Fells through West Gate.

Would Micah Bayar go to this extreme to take revenge on Han? Would they send a triple of bluejackets out to murder a young girl? Or, as he’d guessed, had the real target been Captain Byrne, and Rebecca just happened to be there?

Where had she learned to ride like that? Not in less than a year at Oden’s Ford.

With so many missing pieces, this puzzle was still impossible to put together.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward, looking into her green eyes, speaking soothing nonsense. “What is it with you, Rebecca? Seems like you’re always waving a blade in my face. You any better with a knife these days?” And like that. She narrowed her eyes, frowning as though he were speaking a foreign language.

He’d always had quick hands. In a moment he had the knife away from her. He tucked it under his belt, while she struggled to reach it, calling him amazingly vile names. “Don’t worry,” he breathed. “I won’t lose it. I have it right here.” Prying her out of her hole, he gathered her into his arms, trapping her hands so she couldn’t reach for the knife or scratch out his eyes.

She flinched at his touch, eyes going wide with shock. A moment’s struggle, more a clash of wills than anything else, and then she settled, eyes wide and fixed on his face, trembling like an animal in a trap.

“I’m a wizard, remember?” he said, still running on like a clock wound too tight. “Remember when you told me all about wizard kisses? Wizard kisses sizzle, you said. It’s not so bad when you get used to it.” This brought no response, and he expected none. He kept talking like a Mad Tom, though, the one way he could think of to keep her in the world.

“Let’s go down and see Ragger. I’ve got some supplies in my saddlebags. We’ll try to find out where all this blood is coming from.”

She weighed nothing, but still it was awkward climbing downslope over boulders and ledges in the dark with Rebecca in his arms, afraid he would fall and do further damage. Her breath hissed out, and he knew he was hurting her. At one point she began to struggle, and it was all he could do not to pitch forward and tumble all the way to the bottom.