Page 43 of Fang & Fury

“Right,” her mentor murmured, gathering her reins. “We’ll take the longer road then.”

Fern nodded and nudged her stag onward. “A wise choice.”

Rùn’s hooves beat out a steady tattoo as they thundered along the banks of a wide river.

After their brief stop at the entrance to that glen, they’d pushed harder. Up ahead, Fern’s head kept turning left and then right as she looked for approaching trouble.

None had found them. Yet. Nonetheless, they all stayed vigilant.

The day was waning now, and Ailsa found herself leaning into the strength of Darach’s back. Her body ached, and she longed to stretch her limbs. They’d stopped briefly at noon to water and rest the horses and have a few bites to eat, but they didn’t linger, pushing on. Late in the afternoon, a huge black raven winged in.

Eagal.

The bird Ailsa and Darach had spied twice on the day they met Fern. Her messenger.

The raven landed heavily on Fern’s leather-clad shoulder, resting there for a short while before he flapped away.

Twisting in the saddle, the huntress flashed them a relieved smile. “Eagal tells me we’re drawing ahead of our pursuers.”

Ailsa’s shoulders lowered slightly at this news. Good. Maybe they would outrun them.

Those warriors were on foot after all. They couldn’t keep up with the stag and two horses.

Despite that they were taking a lengthier route south, one that would soon circle the edge of woodland and take them past the fort of Doure before skirting Deeping Barrow, they were almost far enough ahead that they could relax.

Almost.

Ailsa wouldn’t let her guard down yet, and she doubted the others would either.

“Shouldn’t you send Eagal south with a message for the High Queen?” Kayla asked.

Fern cut her an irritated look. “Eagal is my scout … eyes and ears. We need him nearby now.”

Kayla gave a reluctant nod at this, as did Ailsa. That made sense.

Nonetheless, for the first time all day, she let herself focus on other matters. “Darach,” she murmured, breaking the companionable silence between them.

“Aye.”

“Do you remember much … from when you’re the clag-doo?”

“Not really,” he replied after a brief pause. “Just flashes. Images and sensations mostly. There’s always blood on my hands afterward, but I can barely remember who or what it belonged to.” He hesitated then, his body tensing against hers. “Thanks to you, I’m able to stop it from emerging at will. I can also choose when I shift … but I have no control after that, and shifting back is hard. I hate that.”

She nodded. “Does it scare you?”

He huffed a dry laugh. “Every time.”

“Back at Craeg Aonaranach.” She swallowed. “There are parts I barely remember either.”

Darach didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

Ailsa cleared her throat then. “I told you Kayla might still be able to help … we should ask her later.”

“And if she can’t?”

She rested her forehead lightly between his shoulder blades. “We’ll cross that river when we come to it.”

“Go on then.” Darach tossed Ailsa a dagger hilt-first. “Come at me.”