Tech has an amazing story to tell, but is any of it true?
Old betrayals make Micayta slow to trust, but without
Tech she and her brother won’t reach Phadra alive. But
the real danger lies within the city walls, where Micayta
becomes a player in a deadly game with a dark-eyed
mage.
Two gray wolves stepped through the sheets of falling snow.
They were so thin, bones showed clearly beneath their skin.
It might have been a sight to be pitied if it weren’t forthe fact
that they posed such a threat.
sink his teeth into her throat.
“What do we do now?” Pytaki’s voice was tight.
With her right hand, Micayta desperately tugged her dagger free
from its sheath. She managed to
push the wolf up higher, so that his front paws lifted slightly off
her chest.
“Stay calm,” she said. “They’re small and weak. We can
probably outrun them.”
With as much force as she could muster, she slammed her dagger into his stomach and drew it uptoward herself.
Pytaki’s breath came harsh and fast. “I don’t think Palo can
do it. He’s carrying too much weight.”
The wolf let out a single, strangled growl, before going limp.
Micayta pushed him away and lay panting, sharp pain coursing
across her chest and shoulder. There was blood everywhere,
running down inside her sleeves and pooling across her chest.
It was even flecked across her face. The smell was metallic and
mixed with the noxious odor of spilt guts and bodily fluids, was
making her head spin.
She knew he was right. The smaller horse would be easy
prey for the wolves and once he fell, there would be no way
for Pytaki to fend off an attack.
“Well, maybe Tech and I could–” Micayta’s mare reared
back as a darker wolf rushed them,
snapping at the horses’ feet.
The thick snow cushioned Micayta’s fall and kept her from
any serious injury. But still, the air was knocked from her
lungs and for a moment she could do nothing but lie there
on her back and gasp for breath. When at last she managed
to roll over to her side and push herself to her knees, she
found herself face to face with the darker wolf.
Her hand went for her dagger, but not nearly fast enough.
The wolf lunged, his front paws hitting Micayta solidly in the
chest and knocking her backward in the snow. His claws
dug into her shoulder and scraped across the upper part of
her chest. She thrust her left arm up, into his throat, using
all her strength to hold him up and away from her
face. Saliva dripped into her eyes as the wolf scrabbled to
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