Page 90 of Artemysia
I shout at Ivy and Throg. “We’re going to have to run through the fire! You two, get out of here. I’ll follow!”
The elk refuse to move toward the flames.
“Cover their eyes!” Ivy rummages in her saddlebag and pulls out a scarf.
I grab a shirt out of my pack and wrap it around my frightened elk’s eyes and muzzle. He allows me to lead him with my calm voice and a firm slap on his hindquarters. I keep a hand on his shortened antlers so he doesn’t gouge me in his panic.
Ivy and Throg disappear through the smoke.
My elk bucks twice, but I maintain control and pull him through the exit.
Coughing, I quickly scan the ground in front of the cave. No sign of Syf guards. I’m relieved no one was injured on either side. Throg and Ivy are ahead of me in the clearing, mounting their elk.
Once we’ve gathered outside, I unwrap the shirt from my elk’s face. It’s the blue flannel Riev found for me. I’d packed it from the outpost because it was soft and I liked it. As I fold it, Ivy rides up next to me.
“Riev let you keep that shirt?”
“This?” I hold up the shirt. “He said he found it in a closet at the outpost.”
“Of course he wouldn’t tell you.” Her eyes roll. “That’s hisfavoriteshirt. The cleaning woman left everything she had to him when she died, including her dead husband’s shirts. She figured Riev would eventually need clothes when he grew up. He carries that blue one with him everywhere! Once, I fell into a stream and had no spare clothes, and he wouldn’t even lend it to methen. That jerk.” She punches a fist into her palm.
Oh.
Tears well up, and I scrub them away with the back of my palm. Ivy looks away, perhaps to spare me any awkwardness.
“Captain,” she says, scanning the trees, “wewillget Riev back. He’s saved me before, and now it’s my turn. I know you feel the same. Now, do you need a hug or a fight?”
“I’ll take either from you, Ivy.” My throat swells. “Thank you for that.”
Gathering my courage, I mount my elk and take charge.
I can do this.Wecan do this. I’m not alone.
“Throg, any tracks showing where they’ve gone?”
“Tracks in every direction. The Syf army dispersed in all directions to throw us off,” he assesses, treading back and forth on his elk.
“Hmm. Let me think. Okay, don’t panic,” I say, more to myself than anyone else.
“I think I can track him,” Throg volunteers.
I stop breathing. “How?”
“I cansort ofsmell him.”
“Sort of? Can you smell everyone?” I ask, incredulous.
“The Syf don’t have much of a scent, but the steeds they ride smell like hay and fruit, as opposed to moss and oat, like our elk. And Riev, asyouprobably know, smells good. Sexy good.”
“Throg! This is no time to make fun.”
“No, but I can track him. His group went east.”
“Are you sure about this?”
He rides around in a large circle covering several trees. “Yep. East.”
“Alright. We have a plan. Lead the way.”
