“You lied to us.” Singmij stood in front of Chesfi, arms crossed.

“I did not lie.” Chesfi licked her paw. She had returned to the size of a house cat. “You assumed.”

Singmij threw her arms wide, almost smacking Nuliyaa where she stood off to the side. Considering how much Nuliyaa’s head ached from whatever the other mage had done to flip over the wagon, she was glad she didn’t have another bruise to add to her collection. “Generations of people in Nengmek do not know the Malks can get as large as the great cats in the mountains. I haven’t seen any of your people appear bigger than a guard dog.”

“No?” Chesfi switched paws.

Cheeyt stalked up. Chesfi straightened at her appearance, her ears laying back slightly. “We’re here because of you.” Her fists clenched.

Oh, this wasn’t good. Nuliyaa stepped in between her sister and their client. “Yes, we are,” she said. “That part wasn’t a lie, though. Our client was injured. She could not return home on her own. We are here on a job.”

“A job none of you should be a part of!” Cheeyt snapped. “You don’t have the training. We had to focus on protecting you instead of fighting—”

“It doesn’t matter that we’re here!” Nuliyaa shot back. “You would have had to protect the wagon without us! Our client was in there!”

“Our client who seems to be more than capable of protecting herself.”

“I did tell you I wanted out of the wagon.” Chesfi’s tail smacked the ground.

“She’s not completely healed.”

At Sinchach’s words, both of the Etskauu sisters spun to glare at him. He held up his hands and glanced at Tajak like he was considering hiding behind his bodyguard. “I have applied many healing sigils and all of them have been drained. I don’t dare use any more or her body will fail from the stress. She’s going to sleep hard soon.”

“All of you, be quiet.” Miyt had been sitting on a sack, looking dazed while Tseetsaa leaned against her shoulder. Tseetsaa was unusually quiet and moved like she was still in pain even after the healing sigils. Miyt grabbed onto the wagon wheel and pushed to her feet. “Those were the poachers,” she said, looking to Singmij.

“So it appears,” Singmij said.

“Then this is beyond what you prepared for, Cheeyt.” Miyt shook her head. “If they were bandits, would we be in this much trouble?”

Cheeyt looked like she really didn’t want to answer the question truthfully. “Probably not. Bandits wouldn’t have been as organized, trained, or well-equipped.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Then stop trying to blame everyone else because you were frightened today.”

“One of them was angry that the mage ‘damaged’ Chesfi,” Tseetsaa said, sliding down to huddle against the sack. Her voice was dull. “I heard him cursing the mage.”

“Then they are the poachers,” Singmij said grimly. “They must have seen you in Riverport.”

“Are they after Chesfi because they want to catch a Malk?” Nuliyaa asked. “Or do they recognize her and want her because they lost her before?”

“I’m not sure it matters,” Singmij replied.

“It matters.” Cheeyt’s voice was grim. “If they want Chesfi specifically, they’ll try again. They almost had us today so they know they’ll get her if they bring just a few more people next time.”

“Will they come after us once we reach Grove?” Singmij asked.

“Maybe.” Cheeyt still glared at Chesfi.

“Once we get to the bridge, we’ll be fine,” Singmij said. “There are always plenty of soldiers at that point.”

“And until then?”

Singmij pressed her lips together. No one mentioned that they still needed to get to Grove, which Nuliyaa was certain at least another day away.

Kachaark stood up from where he had been examining the damage to the wagon. “Think I can fix it,” he said. “Enough to get us to Grove.” He motioned to Cheeyt, crouching back down to point out whatever he was working on when she and Singmij went over.

Nuliyaa knelt down next to Chesfi, moving a water container closer. “It’s interesting,” she said, her voice mild and quiet.

“What is so interesting?”

“That a Malk such as yourself, someone so obviously well-trained and capable of taking out all of those fighters even when still healing from serious injuries, was captured by the poachers.” Nuliyaa held Chesfi’s gaze and lifted an eyebrow. “You let them take you.”

The Malk huffed. “Many of my people had been taken,” she said after a moment of returning Nuliyaa’s stare. “Most of them were defenseless. I needed to find out who was responsible.” She looked away, trying to make it seem that she had just found something to watch over Nuliyaa’s shoulder. “I had thought I would be able to escape and bring my warriors to take care of the poachers. It was—worse than I had anticipated.”

Nuliyaa would never tell her sister or Singmij what she’d figured out. They would shackle Chesfi to the wagon.

“I’m going to take my turn with the healing sigils,” Nuliyaa said, pushing herself back to her feet. “I have never hurt so much in my life.”

“Is it worth it?” At Chesfi’s question, Nuliyaa turned back. “Leaving your home for this?”

Nuliyaa looked to where Miyt and Tseetsaa comforted each other by the wagon. They would not be here if she hadn’t wanted this. If she had signed the papers so Cheeyt could have her company, then went on to find herself another job, then they would be back in Wumaltsmaas preparing dinner. Secure. Safe.

But Miyt would have never gotten to see outside of the city. Tseetsaa would have never discovered the sigils that Sinchach was teaching her.

“Ask me when I don’t hurt so much.” She limped over to the mage.

“Incoming,” Singmij said, lifting up her crossbow as she walked back around the wagon. In the silence that followed her words, they could hear hoofbeats on the road.

Sinchach dropped the healing sigils he’d been about to apply to Nuliyaa and pulled out others. Tajak lifted his sword. Kachaark and Cheeyt followed Singmij as Chesfi shimmered and disappeared.

The riders started slowing as they came closer. Then Cheeyt pushed out a harsh breath.

“What happened?” Nuttulch demanded as he stopped his horse.