I looked farther back on the trail and saw a group of five or six guards clad in black armor. Ceren’s men. The arrows had ceased, with only a few having found their mark, but we were weighed down with more supplies and more riders, and the guards were gaining.

“We’re not going to outrun them,” Zadie said, just as Roan whistled three times. The horses to our left came to an abrupt halt as the rest of us kept going. As I looked back, I saw that the Galethians had turned on their heels and were riding toward Ceren’s guards.

I expected the Ilareans to fan out or turn around, as anyone would when faced with six Galethian war horses and an array of weaponry coming toward them at high speeds. But Ceren’s men rode straight ahead, colliding with the Galethian troops in a clash of horseflesh and swords.

Roan whistled again and two more Galethians peeled off the back of our group to help their comrades. A moment later, Roan yanked his horse to a halt, and our mounts followed.

“Surround the outsiders,” he ordered. There were only a few Galethians left, but they did it immediately, without hesitation. I had taken a short sword from the armory at Roan’s insistence, and I drew it now, though I had absolutely no idea how to fight with it.

“Easy there,” Roan said to me as he brought his dun up beside Titania. “I don’t think you’re going to need to kill anyone just yet.”

From where we stood, we could hear shouts and the sound of fighting, with the occasional scream from a horse that froze my blood.

“Shouldn’t you help them?” I asked as more time passed and no one returned.

“I trust my riders,” he said, though his jaw was tight and his own sword was drawn.

Even though I knew the members of the Galethian cavalry could match any Ilarean guard under normal circumstances, I couldn’t help but worry. Ceren’s guards were fearless in the face of danger thanks to the bloodstones. They would mindlessly throw themselves off a cliff if Ceren commanded it. I scanned the woods, wondering where he was. If my theory was correct, Ceren couldn’t be far.

A moment later, the first of the riders appeared, and I found myself breathing a sigh of enormous relief. The rest followed in quick succession, bloodied and battered but alive.

I waited for Ceren’s guards, but the lead Galethian gave Roan a quick shake of his head. “We killed several, but the rest fled. We decided it wasn’t worth the chase.”

“Did you search the bodies?”

“Yes,” a rider said. “No bloodstones that we saw.”

“That explains why the guards retreated,” I said, relieved that Ceren wasn’t controlling everyone around him with the bloodstones. “The good news is we know they aren’t nearly as loyal when they’re free to make their own decisions.”

“The bad news is, Ceren isn’t following us,” Roan added.

“Not yet, anyway.”

“We can only hope those who escaped will tell him we crossed the border.” Roan dismounted and helped take stock of the injuries. Aside from the man who’d been shot in the leg, the horses were the only ones who had shed blood.

“We should get off the road and set up a camp for the night,” Shiloh said. The sun was already below the treetops. “Adriel can tend to the wounded when we’re settled.”

I glanced at the man with the arrow still protruding from his thigh. He wore thick leather breeches, so the arrowhead didn’t appear to have gone deep, but I could see Zadie going a little green around the gills at the sight.

Roan nodded and sent several riders off into the forest to look for a camping spot. By the time a place had been settled on, it was completely dark, and exhaustion had replaced the adrenaline that had rushed through my bloodstream earlier.

The horses were allowed to graze—they knew not to stray far—while we made camp. Zadie, Sami, and several of the Galethians began to prepare supper while others made the fire and scouted the area to make sure there were no more guards waiting to ambush us.

“Care to help me?” Adriel asked. She had a satchel full of healing supplies slung over her arm.

I nodded, grateful to have something to do. We approached the man with the arrow wound first, but he shook his head when he saw Adriel’s bag.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re going to refuse treatment because I’m a—”

“It’s not that,” he blurted. “I’d just rather you treat the horses first.”

She blinked, clearly surprised by his request. “I’m not an expert in horse healing, but I promise I will check on the animals. First, however, we need to remove that arrow.”

He was young, with shaggy brown hair and a crooked nose, and he seemed as intimidated by Adriel as I had been when we first met. “Yes, miss. Er, ma’am?”

Adriel arched an eyebrow as she reached for a knife. “Call me Adriel. I’m going to need to cut off your breeches. Nor, I need boiled water and clean linens. I don’t think the wound is deep, but we’ll need to keep it well wrapped to prevent infection.”

I watched in awe as she worked methodically, maintaining perfect composure even as she pulled the arrow out of the man’s flesh. He was remarkably stoic, but the arrow was designed to inflict damage on the way in and out. When I saw sweat breaking out on his forehead as Adriel doused the wound in alcohol and used a knife to widen the opening in his flesh, I held out my hand. He gripped it so hard I worried he might shatter the bones, but I could tell it helped to have something else to focus on.

Afterward, when the wound had been cleaned and the soldier rested, we went to check on the injured horses. Adriel cleaned their scrapes and placed a salve on their wounds.

“What is it made of?” I asked.

She handed me the small pot so I could smell it. It had a strong herbal scent. “Calendula flower, for pain and swelling. It helps prevent infection, too. Comfrey, to stop the bleeding and aid the healing. Beeswax to bind it.”

I studied her for a few minutes. She had a calming effect on the horses, I noticed. They lowered their noses to the ground as she ran her hands over their muscles, checking for soreness. When she’d finished, I followed her to the stream, where she rinsed off her hands and instruments.

“Adriel,” I said, coming to sit beside her on a rock. “What you’re doing—healing, I mean—it isn’t magic, is it?”

She glanced at me as she dried off her knives. “No, Nor. It isn’t.”

“Then why do the Galethians call you a witch?”

“Not everything I do is healing, although the vast majority of it is. You’ve seen the spells in that book of blood magic. That goes far beyond herbs and flowers.”