Inyx slit the throat of another before the greys’ leader lifted a red-striped arm and lowered it in signal. The woman dropped into the position vacated by the dead soldier and waited.

Four men and a woman walked along the road, wary of every movement, every sound, every shadow. Inyx knew quarry when she saw it. These people had been hunted long and hard by Claybore’s soldiers.

As the small group neared, the officer shouted, “Attack!”

To the officer’s surprise, he found himself three men short on the ambush. Then Ducasien took out another and Inyx deftly tossed her dagger and buried the spinning blade into the chest of a fifth. The officer stood alone in the rocks, waving one arm and clinging to his sword with the other hand.

All five of the people on the road pulled out slings, whirled them around twice, and loosed their missiles. One struck the greys’ leader squarely in the head. The explosion caused Inyx to flinch and turn away. She blinked in surprise. If it had been Lan attacking, she would have expected anything, but this ragtag band didn’t seem the type to lavishly use magics.

“Well cast,” she called to the group below. One man separated himself and stood to one side. The way he held his shoulders, the appraising look he gave her from the colorless eyes, the distance he put between himself and the others all bespoke of command.

Ducasien stepped beside her and looked down on them, saying in a low voice, “Not too awe-inspiring, are they?”

“You saw what they did to the grey-clad. There’s more here than shows on the surface,” Inyx said.

“Aye and you’re right on that score,” said the one Inyx pegged as the leader. “Come on down and join us, will you?”

“You’ve got good hearing,” said Inyx.

“Good vision, and a mite more,” said the man. “Who be you? We’ve not seen your likes in these parts, now have we?” He turned to the other four. The woman in the group got a far-looking expression on her face, then slowly nodded. “Now that Julinne has passed favorably on you, be welcome with us.”