he sits toward the back, almost out of view, staring at something he holds in his lap. i glance away so he will not feel the weight of my gaze, but i am able to keep sight of him from the corner of my eye. as i stand, he hurriedly shoves whatever he is looking at back into his saddlebag and rises to his feet.

i avoid looking at him, or even acknowledging him, while we make ready to ride. indeed, i manage to avoid him the entire night, my efforts greatly aided by his equal desire to avoid me. when the hunt returns to the cromlech, he still sleeps near me, but does not lie down until long after i am asleep, and he rises before i wake. he spends hours staring at whatever he keeps in his saddlebag, as if trying to coax an answer from it. after two days of this, my curiosity becomes piqued.

perhaps he is holding some token of the sins he committed when he was human, something he is using to keep his resolve strong. perhaps giving in to mortal temptation such as i offered him will only prolong his punishment or even remove his chance for redemption altogether.

perhaps whatever he keeps in that saddlebag will answer all these questions that plague me.

chapter nineteen

as luck would have it, the next night is a busy one, with lost and wandering souls so thick upon the ground that the hellequin are able to scoop them up like fishermen with a net. "something is wrong," balthazaar says when the men have captured their fourth soul. "there should not be so many in one place."

"unless they have all been killed at once," sauvage says. "then it would make sense." he shrugs his massive shoulders. "maybe there has been a battle. or a fire."

a battle. "where are we?" i ask.

balthazaar barely spares me a glance. "about six leagues north of vannes."

"which means we are close to the port cities, a sure target if and when the french decide to make a move on brittany."

he looks at me blankly.

"the impending war?" i remind him with impatience. "it is possible the french have decided to engage us, and some battle we have not yet heard of has taken place." not that we would ever hear of it, seeing that we pass almost no one at night and those we do pass are not inclined to stop and share gossip.

"she is right," sauvage says. i am so surprised i almost ask him to repeat himself, but silence my tongue before the words can escape.

balthazaar nods in agreement as another shout goes up. the hellequin have found yet more souls. "come," balthazaar says. "let us see if we can ask one of them why there are so many." he puts his heels to his horse and we all ride forward.

when we are close enough to the others, balthazaar and sauvage rein in their horses and dismount. the souls must have been those of soldiers, for they do not cower or shrink in fear from the approaching hellequin.

now, i think. now is my chance, when everyone is busy with the souls. i slip out of my saddle onto the ground, then wait, stomping my feet as if to stay warm in case anyone should notice me.

as if i am merely stretching my legs, i saunter over to balthazaar's abandoned horse. the creature has grown used to my scent after our weeks riding together. even though he tosses his mane and blows