"You don’t seem cold,” Loho said, eyes drooping.

  Hogog finished munching on his piece of dried meat, swallowed.

  “That’s because I’m not. Where I come from, it snows through half of winter.”

  They had agreed from the start to avoid fires, even for cooking. It was better to find out they weren’t being pursued at all ter and deal with the frustration than to give away their location now. There had been nothing but hot climate since Captain Mavis left them in Riin, but the nights were getting colder, he could tell that.

  “How is it?” Uruoro asked. “Your home?” He was sitting on his bedding more comfortably, while Loho used Hogog’s as extra cover.

  “Forest everywhere,” Hogog answered, gesturing with a hand, “filled with game. We—the Nagra—are divided in vilges, five hundred to a thousand each, more or less, and a couple days to a week away from one another. We hunt and forage, but we also farm some. Every year we leave when winter comes, avoiding the worst of the snow like that. Some stay behind, the ones that are too young or too old. This,” with another gesture, he indicated the darkening cave they were in, “is about as hot as it gets, except maybe in the worst of summer.”

  “That’s why you’re always sweating so much.”

  Hogog showed a faint smile and nodded.

  “What about you?” he asked to Uruoro.

  “I come from the mountains. It also snows, but we never took the worst of it. Our feet never rested in one pce for too long, endlessly climbing and descending and going around. I have seen the white peaks and wondered if anyone could survive such an environment, but not enough to try it myself. The cold of a mountain is different from the one you know, because the wind never stops, not if you’re on the wrong side of it. It dries and stings. A cave such as this is too shallow to protect you.”

  They nodded at each other. Uruoro didn’t look as tired as Loho, not as sleepy.

  They were both staring at the Headhunter.

  “You have seen my home.”

  “Was it always your home?” Uruoro asked.

  Loho took a deep breath. “No, but there is little to say. No fond memories of where I come from to tell. No time to make some when I had to fight to get by from the start. It was all in Sarak, all sun and sand and blood until I met Gima, and then life started to get better.”

  That got to Hogog, in a way.

  You barely see her.

  He knew how that felt like all too well, despite how little Loho seemed willing to share. Not that he could bme the man. Neither him nor Uruoro had shared any of the hurt, any of the losses. If that was all he had to remind himself of home…

  “Why don’t you leave?”

  No answer. Hogog squinted, and saw that Loho’s eyes were closed, sleeping.

  Uruoro gently stood from his bedding. They stared at each other and moved to the cave’s entrance. Night had just fallen and the sky was still starless.

  “I think I made a mistake,” Uruoro whispered.

  Hogog arched his brows in a question.

  “Loho doesn’t want to remember his home, because if he does, he will think about Gima, and it’s different than your worry of Kaye, in a way.”

  “Which way?”

  “After he gets us away from Sarak, he will have to turn back and make his way to Neru-Aran knowing that those men who attacked us could be waiting. He can’t leave now because of love and yes, I’m confident he understands what you were talking about before, or about leaving Sarak, but he is simply not brave enough.”

  It was hard to imagine Loho, of all people, cking bravery, but Hogog understood it.

  And he couldn’t keep himself from thinking about his niece. “Then we have to hope that Kaye will help her.”

  Uruoro looked up at him.

  “Ah, you’re right. If she noticed this, she will have turned back to Neru-Aran by now.”

  Hogog took a deep breath, sighed.

  You will never let me stop worrying, will you, Kaye? You left me with quite a handful, brother, Taya.

  “About your home,” Uruoro changed the subject, “Kaye has told me some, but mostly I’m curious about the Godsnake. A strange god, according to her. One that seems to only exist in passing, one that isn’t worshipped but mentioned.”

  Why not? Hogog thought. He didn’t know much, but he at least had some stories to tell. Though he had met Loho at the same time, he couldn’t deny he felt somewhat at ease around Uruoro.

  Hogog climbed a ridge that was both not as tall as he’d liked and not as hidden. He was trekking ahead of the others, always searching for anything they could use, any signs that they were about to come upon an unexpected group, when he noticed that the path would take them towards an open area, gently sloping north, not enough to be dangerous itself, but it would expose them to the sight of anyone that happened to be down there.

  Reaching the top of the small ridge, he kept himself low and watched the north for a long time. His eyes lingered on every spot where it seemed someone could hide, but if there was anyone there, they were either too far away or too well hidden.

  He turned west then. Uruoro, carrying most of their weight, was trying to stay in the shadows, while Loho simply walked forward, slow but unbothered.

  Far behind them, he saw more people.

  Lowering himself even more, Hogog crawled his way down the ridge on the opposite side.

  Uruoro and Loho raised their heads when he approached them.

  “We are being pursued,” he said without preamble. “Four people, that I could see, coming that way, a little north. They don’t have our trail, not if they’re coming from there, but they will find it.”

  Both the others quickened their paces.

  “Do we hide or do we run?” Uruoro asked.

  Walking just a little ahead of them, Hogog looked around. They were relying on him for this, but there were only so many options.

  Running would put some distance between them and the pursuers, but it would only be useful if they could use the extra time for something after. Hiding… hiding wouldn’t do then much, not now. He wasn’t willing to bet that they could hide from all of them, especially not when he had no clue how many were pursuing or how far away the rest were. He had seen four, but those could have just been the scouts.

  Back in the bridge, the attackers had been unorganized and some of them were killed. Even if it was just the survivors, with no reinforcements to speak of, their chances of succeeding would be higher now that their prey would tire themselves out to stay ahead, stay fleeing.

  They must have been paid very well, to be willing to come this far.

  “Go ahead, you two,” Hogog said, pointing to where the path remained uneven, “I’ll hide our tracks, then I’m going to catch up. Choose the fastest way you can see.”

  Uruoro nodded, but Loho didn’t. Hogog turned back, heard them moving away, and started swiping their footprints as well as he could.

  It was crude work, but it was something. In a forest the worst of the signs could be hidden by carefully pced twigs and leaves, but here he only had some stones to work with, and they were far more obvious. Instead, he decided to mess with the dust, hoping that the breeze would settle it soon, smoothing out his work.

  If someone managed to find the start of the trail, then they would definitely find where it resumed, but whatever time they wasted looking for it could be the what kept Hogog and the others alive.

  After a good while, he turned east again and did his best to walk on the rocks where he wouldn’t leave any prints.

  When he reached the ridge where he had first spotted the men from, however, he left deep prints wounding north, towards the open area he wanted to avoid earlier. Only one set of footprints, of course, so the pursuers could argue among themselves if it was best to hunt this one down or look for the other two.

  He spent perhaps two hours cleanings their tracks, making the fake ones and then pacing and hopping carefully to not leave any more signs of his passing. Uruoro and Loho had taken a different path, and if they had done as he said so, then he wouldn’t see them for the rest of the afternoon.

  For the rest of the day, he didn’t see anyone else. It seemed the diversion had worked.

  On the following day, their numbers had increased.

  Perched on a rge rock sticking out of the ground, Hogog put arrow to string and shot.

  The way the man shifted violently when the arrow penetrated into his shoulder made some part of Hogog want to flinch, as if reminding him that the weapon wasn’t made for that.

  It made him think about Kaye, and that made losing the next arrow easier.

  Caught by surprise, the men barely managed to hide behind a rock wall by the time Hogog had his third arrow loaded; one of the pursuers had a shaft sticking from his shoulder and the other one from his lower back, the former helping pull the tter to safety.

  Hogog hopped down from the rge rock and started running. The men were shouting behind him, calling for the others.

  Ahead, he saw the round rock he was looking for and climbed his way towards it. Climbing made him slow down, but he knew without having to look that the men were still to start pursuing him.

  Uruoro was hiding behind the rock, crouched down and with two hands pressed against it. They locked eyes for an instant, and Hogog shook his head.

  It didn’t take long for the men to approach. Hogog retreated to keep his head out of sight and focused on listening.

  Someone issued orders, saying who was meant to go where, and then they fell silent, stepping this way and there.

  Rocks crunched under someone’s foot, closer.

  Hogog whispered, “Now.”

  Uruoro pushed his whole body against the rock. It resisted for a moment, then snapped out of its pce and tumbled down towards where Hogog had just climbed through.

  He stood in time to see that one man jumped out of the way, while another was hit in the leg and fell screaming, the limb bent at an odd angle as he slid down the incline.

  Hogog looked for the closest man, found him, and aimed. Too far away, so he trailed the man’s retreat for a few moments before taking his shot. Straight through neck.

  The rest weren’t close enough, save for the man with the broken leg, but he was out of the fight regardless.

  Turning, Hogog dashed in the same general direction Uruoro had left to, but in a different path, moving on to the next spot.

  But the men didn’t pursue them.

  Hogog had the best view from where he was perched on, but still he couldn’t see the men. Were they going around? Retreating? Calling reinforcements?

  He couldn’t bring himself to wait any longer and left, looking for where they had agreed Loho should wait, hiding in a space in the rock that was only visible from the west. Just ahead—

  Hogog halted.

  “Loho, it’s me.”

  The Headhunter left his hiding pce. Was I going to be attacked? Even if he managed to dodge, which he wasn’t sure he could, the st thing they needed was Loho ciming he couldn’t put the sword away before killing someone.

  “Uruoro is dead?” Loho asked.

  “No, but we should look for him. They aren’t pursuing, we have some time to get ahead.”

  Loho paced around him without saying another word. He seemed to be munching on something, his jaws tense. Nervous?

  Uruoro noticed their approach before they could see him. The small man struggled a little to climb down, shortspear in hand.

  “I was starting to think—No, we shouldn’t waste time.”

  Whittling their numbers down had been Loho’s idea. Both Hogog and Uruoro were unsure, but changed their minds when it became clear that the men were gathering and gaining on them. Somewhere, their tracks had been found.

  The nearest city was supposed to be a fortnight away from the bridge where they had been attacked, but that was on a road, without slowing down to keep wounds in check, without backtracking or waiting to ambush pursuers. Loho had never approached the city from this direction and so couldn’t be sure of how much ground they were covering, but chances were good they still had a good ten days ahead of them.

  They wouldn’t get ten days, not if things continued this way. The only way out, Hogog was starting to believe, was to kill all of them.

  He was frustrated, telling himself he wouldn’t allow things to get this ugly again. It didn’t matter if he had no control over the war or over Loho being a target, he could have done something different, he was sure of that. He could have insisted that they should scout the road, that they wait for a caravan, that Kaye refused to let Loho fight that duel. He could have been smarter, stronger, so that Kaye didn’t have to.

  He would be, he promised himself. Somehow.