The Daughter of Night actually seemed to be thriving now that the Protector was stalking them no longer. Narayan was worried.

“You’re always worried,” she chided. She was happy. Her voice was musical. The light of the campfire made her eyes sparkle—when it did not make them glow red. “If someone is after us you worry about getting caught. If we’re safe you worry about me not being a perfect replica of this image of the Daughter of Night you’ve invented inside your head. Narayan, Narayan... Papa Narayan, what I want more than anything is somehow to fix it so you don’t have to do this anymore. You’ve been the one for so long... You deserve to put it all down now and relax.”

Narayan knew that was not possible. Never would be. He did not argue, though. “Then let’s bring on the Year of the Skulls. Once Kina returns we can loaf for the rest of our lives.”

The girl shivered, seemed puzzled. Then she shuddered violently. She grew more pale, leaving Narayan wondering how she managed that when she was always as pale as death to begin. She stared out into the night, obviously troubled.

Narayan started to dump dirt—piled there for that purpose—onto the fire.

The girl said, “It’s too late.”

A huge shape rose behind her—then faded away as though dispersed by the wind.

“Kid’s right, old man,” said a voice Singh had not heard for years and was hearing again far sooner than he had hoped.

Iqbal and Runmust Singh—no relation to Narayan—appeared at the edge of the firelight, wavering, as though they were a mist coalescing. Other men appeared behind them, soldiers in a style of armor Narayan had never seen. Amongst the soldiers he saw drooling red-eyed beasts of species he had never seen before, either.

Singh’s heart redoubled its wild pounding.

The girl observed, “Now we know why my aunt quit chasing us.”

Runmust Singh agreed. “Now you know. The Black Company is back. And we’re not happy.” Runmust was a great shaggy Shadar whose sheer size was oppressive.

Iqbal Singh smiled, perfect teeth glistening in the middle of his brushy beard. “This time you’ll have to deal with your mother and your father.” Iqbal was as shaggy and nearly as huge as his brother but somehow less intimidating. The girl remembered him having a wife and several children. But... Did he mean her birth mother? Her natural father? But they were supposed to be dead.

Her knees went watery. She never had seen her natural parents.

The living saint was unable to keep his feet. Kina was going to test him yet again. And he had no energy left to spend in the fight for his faith. He was too old and too feeble and his faith had worn too thin.

Runmust gestured. The soldiers closed in. They were careful men who made certain they did not get between their captives and the crossbows threatening them. They put the girl’s hands into wool-stuffed sacks, then bound her wrists behind her. They gagged her gently, then pulled a loose woolen sack over her head. They were aware that she might work some witchery.

Narayan they placed up on an extra horse, then tied him into the saddle. They were doing him no kindness. They were in a hurry. He would be too slow if they made him walk behind them. They were more gentle with the girl but her immediate fate was identical.

Their captors were not gratuitously cruel but the girl was sure that would change when they found themselves with adequate leisure time. The strange young soldiers in the clacking black armor seemed highly intrigued by what they could see of her pale beauty.

This was not the way she had imagined herself becoming a woman. And her imagination had been extremely active for several years.

We were high in the pass through the Dandha Presh when the news arrived. The grinding weariness dragging my ancient bones down slipped my mind. I was at the head of the column. I stopped walking, moved aside, watched all the tired mules and men trudge past. Man and animal, we hoped the main force had not stripped Charandaprash of food and fodder.

The Voroshk had sunk deep into exhaustion and despair. Tobo traveled with them, talking all the time, trying to teach them through their pain and apathy. The kids had not had to walk anywhere ever before.

Their flying logs followed right behind.

Lady finally came up. I joined her. I sensed that rumor had reached her already, even though nobody seemed to have any breath to waste on conversation. Rumor is magical, maybe even supernatural.

I told her anyway. “Runmust and Iqbal have captured Narayan and Booboo. They never stopped heading our way after Soulcatcher left off chasing them.”

“I heard.”

“You as nervous as I am?”

“Probably more.” We trudged along for a while. Then she said, “I never got a chance to be a mother. I never got a chance to learn how. After Narayan kidnapped her I just went back to being me.”

“I know. I know. We have to keep reminding ourselves not to get emotionally entangled in this. She isn’t going to think of us as Mom and Dad.”

“I don’t want her to hate us. And I know she will. Being the Daughter of Night is her whole life.”

I thought about that. Eventually, I told her, “Being the Lady of Charm was your whole life once upon a time. But here you are.”

“Here I am.” Her lack of enthusiasm would have disheartened a lesser man than I.

She—and I—were of an age now where we spent too much time wondering how things might have gone had we made a few different choices.

I had plenty of regrets. I am sure she had more. She gave up so much more.

Willow Swan went puffing past with some remark about old folks slowing everybody down. I asked, “You guys keeping an eye on Goblin?”

“He don’t fart without we don’t know about it.”

“That goes without saying. The whole countryside knows.”

“He’s not getting away with anything, Croaker.”

I was not confident about that. Goblin was a slick little bastard. If I had the time I would stay right beside him myself, step for step.

Lady said, “Goblin hasn’t done anything suspicious.”

“I know. But he will.”

“And that attitude is beginning to win him some sympathy. I thought you ought to know.”

“I know. But I can’t help recalling One-Eye’s warning, either.”

“You noted yourself that One-Eye would try to get his last lick in from beyond the grave.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll try to take it easier.”

“We need to move a little faster.” The rear guard was almost up to us.

“We could lag behind and sneak off into the rocks for a while.”

“Maybe you’re not as worn out as you thought, then. Get a move on.” And after a moment, “We’ll talk about that tonight.”

Some motivation, then.