Hyde’s gaze darts past me suddenly. He lets out a curse, his posture tensing. In an instant he is all warrior again. A sentry who has just spotted danger.

Our waiting is over.

Chapter 4

4

In the midst of a scrubby stand of birches roughly a mile away, I see what has alarmed him.

Three people. Too far for me to see their faces. Close enough that I can tell they are all men. We watch them for a few moments, taking in the practiced stealth of their movements. How their progress is careful and furtive, and runs parallel to the well-trod trail instead of on it. There is no doubt in my mind—they are attempting to stay concealed. The men in the distance aren’t weary travelers seeking asylum. They are hostile.

Hyde comes to the same conclusion. “That’s trouble.”

“Let’s run them off.”

Hyde pulls his bow and quiver over his shoulder. His eyes blaze with intensity, and his muscles are coiled and rigid, like he’s ready to spring forward. There’s not a trace of kindness or playfulness in him anymore.

He gives a tight nod, and we jog down the hill toward the trespassers.

With a hundred yards still to go, Hyde and I slow to a quiet prowl. We could shout at them to leave from here. We could engage them with our bows. Hyde is a brilliant archer, as accurate as I am. But I have a clear view of the three men now. They have stopped walking, and I can see their faces.

And I know them.

I freeze. Hyde reacts immediately, stopping with me.

“Is it Roar?” he murmurs, sensing the shock that’s swept over me.

I shake my head. Roar’s return would be a great thing. This is not.

Anger ignites inside me, and I surge forward. My strides are fast and long, fueled by an endless flow of rage.

Hyde is next to me as we break through the tree line and come into the open. The three men stand on a rise above us, and Hyde and I have no cover. I have put us in the worst position possible, but I don’t care.

“Wylan!” I slow to a jog and reach back, grabbing an arrow from my quiver and nocking it. “Don’t move!”

His head whips to me. His eyes flare with surprise; then his expression transforms into something venomous and hateful as he recognizes me.

I approach the rest of the way slowly so I can keep my aim steady, my arrow ready to fly if necessary. Hyde holds pace beside me, his bow also drawn and nocked. As I have Wylan in my sights, Hyde swings his arrow between the other two traitors, Gray and Norris.