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see danger coming,” Nowak chided.

“To be fair, that’s another reason we need her safe.” Summers was looking at Asle now. “Logan said she had a five-man detail. We’re not going to be able to do that. One of those traders gets the idea of grabbing the kid . . . I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’re scared of us now. But who knows how long that’ll last.”

Nowak considered that.

“I’ll think about it. But it’s gonna take more than some target practice to change my mind. For now, we’ll stay the course.” Nowak pointed to Asle. “You hear Synel say anything else about where we’re headed, you tell us.”

Asle nodded in response.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Summers walked back to their wagon to find Cortez seated on top of it. Every now and again, she’d have to shoo away a curious civilian. It’s not that they wanted to be rude, but despite all the ordinance they’d used on this trip thus far, they were still sitting on enough gunpowder to launch themselves into orbit.

As Summers got closer, he was surprised to see Cortez talking with someone. Or trying to, anyway.

“Shit,” Summers muttered under his breath. He saw the woman that had been putting the moves on Adams back in the city. She was talking to—or rather, at—Cortez in a very animated fashion.

Asle didn’t need to be told. She moved forward to speak to the woman. After a brief back and forth, the woman’s shoulders dipped ever so slightly. She said something, then turned to leave.

“She wanted to talk to the boy she met at the restaurant. I told her he’s not here anymore,” Asle explained. “She said she’s very sorry.”

“Appreciate it, Asle,” Cortez called down.

And now Summers needed a distraction. Or alcohol. Preferably both.

“Take five, Asle. I’m gonna hang out here for a bit.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Asle sat in the snow, kicking her legs back and forth.

She was bored.

Logan’s shift had just ended, so he was resting, and she understood that Summers needed some time alone. The others were either getting ready to sleep or watching the traders, which was good. They shouldn’t trust them, and she shouldn’t distract them. But it meant that she had no one left to talk to.

The caravan was setting up camp for the night, a few bonfires sending smoke spiraling into the sky. Every so often, she’d see someone glance their way. Naturally, they weren’t so rude as to show it, but the eyes told her everything she needed to know. There was uncertainty; they were afraid of Asle’s group. That was also good. They should be.

“Can I take a walk?” Asle looked up at Cortez on the wagon.

“Sure, just don’t go too far. And be back before sundown.”

“Can I have a gun?”

“What’d Sarge say?”

“Said he’d think about it.”

Cortez seemed to ponder that for a moment before tossing down a KA-BAR knife. It was about the size of Asle’s forearm.

“Consider it a compromise, okay? Yell if you run into trouble.”

Asle nodded as she picked up the knife. She liked Ms. Cortez.

After about twenty minutes, Asle had made it a good distance from camp. It was stupid how the others were worrying. She was fast, and smart. If something chased her, she would outrun it, and they would kill it. If they were soldiers, they would kill them. It was that simple.

Because they were strong.

Because Asle knew the truth.

Asle had prayed to every god she could invoke, every night she could. And they were the answer.

Asle had prayed for her freedom, and they had given it to her.

She’d prayed for vengeance. They had witnessed it, and they had protected her from it.

They had given her back a life that she could be proud of.

She wouldn’t allow anything to take that away ever again. Not soldiers, not monsters, not even the gods.

As Asle looked up, she saw a figure in the distance. Then another. And another.

Were those . . . people?

Asle turned back to the camp.

“I have run into trouble!”

 <<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Summers sat watching a group of elves being interrogated by a few of the caravan’s guards. There were four total, a family as near as Summers could tell.

Asle had alerted them, and they had let someone else deal with the problem.

And it was a problem. Summers had no idea what these people had been through, but they weren’t having a good time of it. They were dirty, they were tired, and from the lack of any kind of equipment, they hadn’t left prepared.

“They ran from their home. From war,” Asle explained.

“Refugees, then?”

Asle shrugged.

“That’s bad news, right? If these people are running from wherever we’re heading to . . .” Cortez looked to Nowak.

“Could be. The locals will know more about the landscape than we will. Honestly, we should wait until Summers can get Synel’s opinion on this.”

The woman in question was standing on the sidelines. Every now and then, a guard would approach her and say something. As the last guard approached, she moved to the group and spoke.

“She says she has no room for them.” Asle spoke low.

The kids looked to be on the verge of tears, even if they were doing their best to hide it.

“What do you mean, no room?” Nowak was looking from Synel to the refugees. “The caravan’s huge.”

“She said no one’s willing to share food, and they have a long journey still ahead. She does sound like she’s actually sorry.”

“No one wants to risk taking them in if we have to skip the city,” Summers concluded. “Like you were saying, there’s nowhere else to resupply.”

“She hasn’t asked us.”

“That’s because we’re mighty warriors, and all that jazz,” Cortez countered. “Probably doesn’t want to offend us.”

“Christ . . .” Nowak muttered.

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