Heart of Ash (The Dark Arcane Series: Book 1)

Chapter Forty Four

Kade joined her as they ran over to Conan. He placed a hand on his shoulder as they paced back to camp. "How far out are they?"

"We spotted campfire smoke, not too far off. If they head straight here, we haven't got long, an hour maybe," Conan explained the situation. He ran a hand over his shaved head. "We're setting up to head out as we speak. We figured it would be best to keep them away from the Tegye San."

"But we'd be separated from the tree too," Kade didn't sound happy at the prospect.

"We'll keep two people behind then," she suggested. "Just enough to ward off any wolves that manage to escape the main fight. At least if we ride out to meet them, they've got less of a chance of finding it."

For once, she wasn't looking forward to the fight. The usual sizzling of her blood and the red fury in her veins hadn't shown, and instead she just felt—empty. She couldn't seem to shake the sensation. Perhaps she was just nervous about the wolves; she could fight humans, knew the way they moved and thought, but put human intellect into a body made for war and it left a lot of room for unpredictability.

They reached the campsite and saw everyone rushing around, horses being tacked up, and armour being strapped on. She was once again thankful that at least some flint soldiers had chosen to stay, and didn't dare question what the punishment from their king would be. From what she'd heard, Yeona had been beyond furious.

Ashyn nodded at the men beside her before running inside her tent. She pulled on a leather vest that fit tightly against her chest. It was thick enough to protect against non direct hits, but not against anything stronger. Nevertheless, it was the best thing she owed. She strapped on protective bands in her arms, made of a similar material.

She tucked several knives into various places, and secured two bags of shuriken at her waist. Digging down to the bottom of her bag, she slowly drew out a blade the length of her forearm. It was the largest weapon she owned, stolen from a man who didn't need it anymore. It was still smaller than the swords she'd no doubt be facing later but it was better than nothing.

She picked up the gun she'd stolen from the slavers, tracing her fingertips along the length of the barrel. She couldn't wait to feel the rush of it sparking again. They'd also rounded up bullets before they'd left, and she tucked them into another drawstring bag. The gun she tucked into her waistband, safety on.

She braided her wet hair back as quick as she could, letting it end in a single plait.

"Hey, you alright?" Ender walked in.

She looked up. He held a bag of something in his hands and eyed it curiously. "Aye, doing fine. How is everything out there?"

He raised an eyebrow. "As good as can be. Kade's taking it bad though. The Captain always sends him like this."

She nodded, and studied him as he rubbed his chin slowly with a gloved hand. He wore similar clothes to her and a single sword sheathed at his side.

He must have seen her eying the bag in his hand because he threw it at her, saying, "I found these for you." He sounded ridiculously pleased with himself which just had her narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

She caught it and peered in. Inside lay sheets of shiny silver metal, slightly scuffed, with worn leather bands. Armour.

A smile worked its way across her face as she shoved them on her forearms, pulling the straps tight. She looked up. "Thanks. These—these are great."

He gave a satisfied grin. "I know."

She zeroed in on the sword at his side. Frowning, she asked, "Where'd you get the sword from? You don't usually carry that."