Free Soulvine 03 A Bright and Terrible Sword by Anna Kendall

not. Once again, no one knew where I was. I could travel still farther here, cross back over, and make my way to Tanwell, to Maggie and the child.
    Tears of relief came to my eyes. But not only of relief, not while I remembered Alysse. She had died trying to warn me about Leo. Although Leo made no sense, either – if he was indeed one of the rogue hisafs rather than one of my father’s, then why had they sent someone so weak and cowardly to follow me? But Leo did not stay in my mind. Alysse did, dying for me.
    As had so many more. I could not believe I was worth it.
    The baying came an hour or so later.
    It was not the sound of someone, or even many someones, crashing through the forest. That would have been preferable. This was a noise I had heard only once before, when I had been briefly in the Country of the Dead with my father. It sounded like the royal hunt, and now that I knew the grey dogs could belong to the rogue hisafs as well as to those protecting me, I didn’t hesitate. Even as the baying rose in both volume and pitch I crossed back over—
    —to find myself in a circle of men with guns pointed at my chest.
    Not savages. Men of The Queendom. ‘Hello, Roger Kilbourne,’ one of them said, and another was on me before I could so much as blink. Something hard and cold clasped my one good arm. Biting down again on my still bleeding tongue, I crossed back over.
    Darkness—
    Cold—
    Dirt choking my mouth—
    Worms in my eyes—
    Earth imprisoning my fleshless arms and legs—
    In the Country of the Dead the baying had ceased, but the man who had spoken had crossed over with me.
    He said nothing. The cold on my arm was an iron cuff, chained closely to one on his. He yanked it hard, did something with his left hand that I did not see, and once again we were in the barrier between life and death, fighting our way through the grave. He was a hisaf .
    In the land of the living, the men had lowered their guns . The man who had said my name laughed. ‘You, Roger, of all people – you should know that what is fastened onto you, crosses over with you. Wherever you go, Kelif goes with you. And contrary-wise. We have you at last.’
    ‘Who … how …’
    ‘How did we find you? Oh, that was easy.’ His free hand reached across his body and fingered the hem of my wool tunic. He stretched out his palm before my face. On the calloused flesh lay a small burr, so tiny I had never noticed it to pull it off. He said, ‘Did you not know that markers could be so small? Consider it part of your education, lad. Yes, you’re right … I can see it from your face. Our Leo put it there.’
    Our Leo .
    ‘But you’re hungry, am I right? All this running and escaping and hiding – surely it tires a man out. Come and eat. I am Straik, by the way. Your servant, sir.’ He made a little mocking bow and laughed again.
    My captor dragged me under a tall pine, where the other three men were opening packs and building a fire. They were large men, but Kelif towered over them all, a giant with hands like sides of pork and a broad, blank face. Straik, in contrast, had the thin sharp face of an intelligent stoat. His eyes seemed never to be still, darting constantly about, missing nothing. All wore tunics andbreeches of rough brown wool, knee-high boots, and thick short beards. Only Straik seemed to be clean. As soon as I heard the others speak, their accents told me they came from the Unclaimed Lands or even Soulvine Moor. But Straik spoke like a man of The Queendom. All four, excepting only the silent Kelif, laughed and joked among themselves as if I were not there. I stayed mute with terror.
    What did they know? They clearly came from Soulvine Moor. Did they know about Maggie and our son? I could think of no other reason that they might want me – unless it was something to do with my father, supposedly their prisoner in Galtryf. Unless Leo had lied about that, too.
    Oh, let my capture be due to my father and not Maggie!
    One of the men