Grove was a pleasant-looking village, but Nuliyaa didn’t find herself able to enjoy it.

“We’re being followed,” Nuttulch had told Cheeyt grimly that morning as they made their way up the road.

“I know,” she’d replied, voice resigned. “They probably plan to try again right before we reach Grove, or after we leave.”

“There’ll be Spires patrols after Grove,” Saknuu commented.

“Yes, so probably before.”

But it seemed the poachers hadn’t done more than shadow them, which left Nuliyaa to worry as she did a quick inventory to prepare for shopping in the village. What awful plans did they have in place if they felt comfortable waiting?

“Could be they’ve given up,” Kachaark mused. “Decided one being’s not worth the hassle.”

Singmij was leaning against the wagon with her eyes closed. “At this point, I don’t believe they simply saw her in the city and decided she was an easy target. They likely know precisely who she is and are either wanting to punish her for escaping or want to silence her.”

“Or use me to try to get to my pounce,” came Chesfi’s quiet voice from under the wagon. Sitting under the wagon had been Chesfi’s compromise with Nuliyaa and Cheeyt.

Nuliyaa was almost getting used to hearing a disembodied voice.

“You cannot convince me that you didn’t already have all of those tallies in your head,” Cheeyt said behind her. She jumped and landed on her ample rear end, staring at her sister, who smirked.

“It never hurts to check again,” she snapped, pushing to her feet.

“I would be happy to take over managing the supplies,” Miyt said. She was walking in small circles among their group, working out her stiffness from the ride. “I feel like I am letting you girls do all of the work.”

“You’ve been doing all of the cooking,” Singmij pointed out.

“Yes, but cooking is nothing. I set some rice and lentils to soak in the morning, and put them in the pots with the spices when we stop. It is nothing.”

“Far better than the road food I’ve had,” Kachaark rumbled.

Considering Nuliyaa had inherited her need for feeling productive from her mother, she knew what Miyt was saying. “You can certainly help me with the lists, Miyt.”

“Is there an inn?” Sinchach asked, expression hopeful.

“No inn.” Cheeyt nodded to the cleared area just off the road that they had stopped in. “They prefer travelers to camp here.” She placed a coin at the base of one of the trees. Nuliyaa jumped when a hole opened up between the roots and the coin disappeared into the soil.

“What just happened?” she demanded.

Cheeyt smirked at her. “Grove is a Dryad settlement. They use the root system to pass messages. That’s the fee for their protection while we are here.”

“A Dryad settlement?”

At Tseetsaa’s question, Nuliyaa and Cheeyt exchanged relieved looks. Tseetsaa had been quiet since the attack. Yesterday seemed to have affected her more than the pirates had.

“Yes,” Singmij answered. “They began this village over a century ago. They harvest and sell nuts from the trees.”

“Fascinating,” Sinchach said, crouching down to examine the nearest tree. “How does their magic work, I wonder?”

Above his head, a branch quivered. “Don’t be handsy,” Cheeyt warned. “They protect themselves.”

“Yes, of course.” Sinchach’s tone sounded absent. He was probably going to get beaten with a tree branch before they left in the morning.

“Do they allow outsiders into the village?” Nuliyaa asked. “There are a few things I would like to resupply.”

“Yes,” Cheeyt answered. “I should go in with you. Get the news.”

“One of us should stay here,” Nuliyaa said. “We are the ones the officially own the company.”

“Be best if I go,” Kachaark said before Cheeyt could respond with something that would probably start an argument. “You know they prefer to interact with non-humans.”

“Thank you, Kachaark.” Nuliyaa turned and started walking down the road toward a handful of buildings clumped together. She assumed that was the village center. Kachaark caught up to her easily and she had to hurry to keep up with his stride.

“This village is much smaller than I expected,” she said.

He chuckled. “They’re Dryads.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They live in the trees.”

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“How do they live inside the trees?”

“You’ll see.”

The road drove through the middle of the buildings. When they walked between the first two wattle-and-daub buildings, Kachaark motioned with his horns toward the nearest tree. Nuliyaa followed his eyes. She stumbled to a stop.

The wide trees were hollow with tall, narrow openings. People moved between the buildings and trees. One disappeared inside the trees as Nuliyaa watched.

And the people! Dryads weren’t common in Wumaltsmaas and Nuliyaa had never met one before. She was certain of that because she would have noticed someone like these people. As tall as Kachaark, including his horns, and thin-limbed, their skin colors ranged from pale gray to deep reddish-brown. They didn’t have hair. Instead, leaves covered their heads, some with flowers. They wore no clothes, though some had braided vines into sashes that they draped across their chests.

“Oh,” Nuliyaa breathed out, then she grinned. This was precisely why she had wanted to start this company with Cheeyt.

Then, when one of the dryads scowled at her, she realized she was staring and jerked her eyes away to examine the village. “Is there a market?” she asked.

“There are usually blankets set out over this way,” Kachaark said, leading the way.

Three blankets were arranged in a small open area just off the road, two managed by men and one by a small family. The family had the most foodstuffs, so Nuliyaa headed to them. None of the sellers were dryads. Disappointment flashed through her.

“Do you live in Grove?” she asked as she made her selections.

“No.” The woman gave a polite smile as she measured out grain. Miyt would be thrilled to have something else to prepare. She looked past Nuliyaa as she passed over the package in the direction that Nuliyaa assumed was Spires. “And we may not be coming this way again until things change.”

Nuliyaa froze. Kachaark’s ears pricked toward the woman, so those words made him uneasy, too. “Until what changes?”

“New governor in Spires.” The husband made a rude gesture. “He replaced most of the patrollers with his own men and they don’t care so much. Road won’t be very safe until someone good takes him out.”

Nuliyaa sighed. Would nothing go their way?

***

“Riders.” Chesfi stood up in the back of the wagon, then shimmered until she wasn’t easily seen.

They’d accompanied the farming family out of Grove the morning after they’d arrived. Partly, Cheeyt had said, for safety in numbers. But mostly because she wanted to speak to them directly about the patrols.

There hadn’t been much to learn. Some of the soldiers worked well as patrollers. Others were more interested in riding about and collecting their paycheck. The others were trouble. But there was no one to know which group was which.

When the dust from the horses could be seen on the road behind them, they maneuvered to the side of the road as they had done so many times since starting out from Riverport. Though Nuliyaa felt they were all tenser than they had been even then. Something more was going to happen before they reached Spires—they just didn’t know who would cause the trouble.

The riders—all wearing the same type of light armor over blue tunics—rode past, offering polite nods. Cheeyt blew out a breath when they clear.

“Anyone else find that suspicious for some reason?” Nuttulch drawled.

“Yes.” Singmj watched after the riders with eyes narrowed as Kachaark and Sinchach maneuvered the wagon back to the middle of the road. “Those were the Spires patroller uniforms, but they seemed rather intent for patrollers.”

“Setting up an ambush, maybe.” Kachaark frowned after them as they started walking. “Can’t think of a good place for it up ahead, though.”

“I can’t, either.” Cheeyt fell silent, her focus ahead as though she could still see the riders.

Nuliyaa felt something and shifted aside to see Sinchach thrusting a stack of sigils in Tseetsaa’s direction. “I have the ward sigils,” her younger sister told the mage, looking confused.

“These are weapons,” he answered. “I found a design that the ward will allow through.”

“We can throw, too,” Nuliyaa said, motioning to Miyt and herself.

He hesitated and looked between them, then at the group around. “There may be too much of a risk if there are so many of these flying around,” Tajak said in his mediating way.

“Then we can help with the ward,” Nuliyaa insisted. Tseetsaa had been overwhelmed the last time.

“I can handle it,” her sister insisted.

“But you couldn’t last time.” Nuliyaa stared at her sister, wondering if they were even remembering events the same way. “It’s too much.”

“I’m not a child,” Tseetsaa snapped. “I don’t need you holding my hand for everything.”

Nuliyaa felt as though the vehemence in Tseetsaa’s tone was about to throw her off the wagon. “I never said you were.”

With a growl, Chesfi pushed between them. “Argue later. There are more riders coming and they’re coming fast. You.” She shoved at Tseetsaa with her muzzle. “Show them how to maintain the ward, then help the mage. You win no battles on your own.”

Yes, the riders approaching were coming much faster. And there were so many more of them. These did not wear the uniform of the patrollers and their weapons were out.

Their group moved into the formation they’d decided on as Tseetsaa showed Nuliyaa and Miyt how to lay out and activate the ward around the wagon. Nuliyaa had never seen such serious expressions on Nuttulch and Saknuu’s faces before. Chesfi turned unnoticeable again.

So many riders.

Then the first line collided with something in the road. Their horses collapsed, rolling over to land on the riders who hadn’t been quick enough to jump off. Others piled on while those on the sides maneuvered around and kept charging.

Nuliyaa happened to look over the Sinchach. The mage was grinning. That was his doing.

Then the riders were among them and the attackers’ mage was throwing blasts against the wagon again. Chesfi growled and Nuliyaa felt the wagon rock as she jumped down. She almost called her back. But the malk was a grown person and a trained fighter. Maybe trying to keep her in the wagon wasn’t a good idea. Even if she was their client.

Also, Nuliyaa wasn’t sure how she was supposed to stop a six hundred pound malk from doing whatever she wished. And Chesfi was most certainly back in her massive form.

All she could do was scurry around the wagon, trying to keep up with the sigils as they burned out. She knew nothing about magic, but something about what the other mage was doing this time was stronger and coming faster than the last attack. The ward sigils weren’t lasting nearly as long. Even with Nuliyaa and Miyt helping, Tseetsaa barely had time to throw the sigils Sinchach had given her.

An attacker charged the wagon. Three sigils had just burned out at the same time and Nuliyaa slapped down a replacement, muttering the activating words as fast as she could. Closer, he was getting closer, he was so close.

The sigil took and she pulled out the next, eyes caught in the attacker’s as he raised his ax. He was so close.

Then a piece of paper slammed against his chest and he flew backward, crumpling to the ground.

Nuliyaa spun to see Tseetsaa standing behind her, hand dropping. “Thank you,” she breathed out.

“You’re welcome. Get the hole filled.” Tseetsaa spun around to slap down a sigil in a spot that had just burned out.

A scream split the air and the blasts of magic against the wagon stopped. The three remaining riders turned and ran.

Chesfi appeared, blood vivid against the silver of her fur. “The mage is dead,” she announced casually before strolling to the wagon and flopping down beneath it.