The last time she had seen him, he was tossing her into a dungeon. The intervening days hadn’t been kind to the man. His clothes were torn, his face and hands grayed with dirt. He had a wild look in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before, hungry and narrow. Normally, he was hulking. Now his bulk tipped into a forward lean, low like a wolf. He was armed, but Scratch was more worried about what he’d try with his bare hands.

He grinned, his teeth stained berry purple. “Found you, Keyes. And Bowstring? I’d lower that if I were you. Hester’s right behind you.”

James slowly lowered his shot, peering over his shoulder as Hester edged out of the brush, his sword drawn. Opposite James, Gultin strolled out from his hiding place, hands in his pockets. He leered.

“We’re traveling with two civilians,” Scratch said, fingers floating by the hilt of her kitchen knife. “Let them go. Your quarrel is with us.”

“Actually, Trout, it’s with all of you.”

It had been so long since someone had used a Lakefolk insult against her that she was more surprised than offended. “How’s that?” she asked, stalling. “The Lord High Commander must have sent you out after me and James. Nobody else needs to be involved.”

The minute she said it she knew she was wrong. No one had sent these soldiers out to get her. They weren’t equipped for travel, their packs thin and clothes tattered.

“You were fired,” she murmured, recognition dawning. “Banished.” Branch said nothing, but the hot flare of red over his face revealed the truth. “You were banished because of us. Because we got out. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” His laugh was reedy and wet. “Sorry won’t help you now. Lucky it’s us that found you. We’ll be good enough to take you in alive.”

James inhaled sharply. “Is the whole city after us then?”

Branch gave him a pitying look. “With that price? Not only the city, ponce. Nowhere’s safe for you. Besides, everyone thinks you killed her. Who wouldn’t want to be the one who brought you to justice?”

“We didn’t!” James reached for something in his pocket, but Hester was faster, lunging forward to poke the tip of his blade into James’s shirt. James stilled. Scratch’s heart leapt into her throat.

“James.” They locked gazes. She breathed deeply, dropped her shoulders, and let the air out through her mouth. Then she turned to Brella and Vel. There was fear in Brella’s eyes, tightness around the long lashes and a bright wetness in the warm brown of her irises. Scratch’s heart stuttered sluggishly.