He was so focused on solving this puzzle that he was surprised when Ragger came to an abrupt halt. He looked up to see a small child standing in the middle of the trail in deerskin leggings and tunic. He blinked, and then there were two, no four.

“He’s hurt!” one said, in Clan.

“So is she!”

“Who are they?”

He heard dogs barking and more excited chatter. A wave of dizziness rolled over him, then the voices of a gathering crowd.

“Willo,” he whispered. “Need Willo.”

Then three Demonai warriors stepped out onto the trail between Han and the small pack of children and dogs. They were armed with longbows, arrows nocked, but aimed at the ground, dressed in the sunlight and shadow Demonai clothing. The tallest warrior reached up, grabbing for Ragger’s bridle, but Ragger showed his teeth and reared up, nearly dumping Han and the girl onto the ground. The Demonai backed off quickly.

“Stay off,” Han said, his mouth and tongue so numb he was scarcely understandable. “Get out of my way.”

“What have you done to that girl, jinxflinger?” the Demonai demanded. “Let her go.”

What he was saying didn’t make sense, but Han was too far gone to sort it out. He had a plan. He’d practiced it all the way there, repeated the message over and over in his mind.

“Willo,” he croaked. “Need Willo. The girl is poisoned.”

Rebecca’s head drooped like a flower on a long stem, her face buried against his coat.

The Demonai raised their bows. “Keep your hands where we can see them,” the tall warrior said. “Let the girl go.”

“Can’t,” Han whispered. “She’ll die. Where’s Willo?”

The warriors looked at one another as if this were a hard question.

“Where is Willo?” Han shouted, losing patience. “The girl is dying. Tell me where she is or I’ll ride right over you.”

The children broke and ran toward camp as if chased by demons.

“Give her to us,” the tall warrior said. “We’ll take her to Willo.”

Han shook his head stubbornly. He had a plan, and this wasn’t it. “Where’s Willo?”

The warriors exchanged glances again.

“This way,” one of the Demonai said. “Follow us.” Two of them began walking down the trail ahead away from Han, while the tall one stood aside, his bow slack in his hands.

Han urged Ragger forward at a walk. They walked past the tall warrior. In his peripheral vision, Han saw the warrior raise his bow, take careful aim. But Han’s muddled mind could not process this, could not divine the significance.

“No!” someone shouted. “Stop! Don’t shoot! It’s Hunts Alone!”

Han looked up to see Willo flying toward them, moccasins flashing in and out of the snow, hair streaming out behind her. She wore white—full skirts, a long deerskin tunic overtop, not even a coat.