Krailash nodded, though he knew his protective instinct sprang from a different source-he didn’t find tiny apes cute, exactly, but he hated to see the harmless and the innocent endangered. “Step quickly, Marley, and be watchful. Tell Alaia we’ll report back before nightfall-and if we don’t, she should close ranks and move the caravan out.” Krailash doubted the woman would obey, at least not readily. In theory, Krailash’s word was absolute in matters of caravan security, but if he wasn’t physically present to make sure Alaia listened, she might decide she knew better, and stay to harvest another day.

Hard to blame her, when a day spent gathering flowers would eventually translate to enough gold to buy a small house in town or a large farm in the country.

Marley nodded and set off, the infant nuzzled against him, chin resting on his shoulder. The child’s green eyes seemed to look straight at Krailash, but it was surely coincidence-as he understood it, infant humans were appallingly nearsighted, lacking the keen vision every dragonborn had at birth, lost in a world of blurs and light.

“After you,” Rainer said, and Krailash grunted, looking away from the child to the path broken in the jungle brush. He walked slowly, axe in his hands, trying to make sense of the trail sign, but he was no ranger. Should have called for the head of the caravan scouts. All he could tell was that a great many people had passed this way, some resisting that passage violently. The path was big enough for Rainer to walk beside him, and they moved in silence for a long distance, the jungle gradually closing back over them from the relative openness around the ruined courtyard. Whoever had attacked the child’s tribe hadn’t attempted to cover the tracks of their departure at all, which suggested either stupidity or confidence.