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in the midst of our camp. We’ll destroy their house as we fight, which will dampen their morale too. It should be an easy victory.” Wolf drops down from his horse gracefully, handing the reins to his faithful friend. “Take care of my camp; I’ve got to check on our special guest and see that his accommodations are correctly prepared.” Wolf strides toward the wagon holding his brother before Jackal has a chance to respond.

Bittern lifts the canvas before Wolf can enter. “We heard already. We’ll set up a tent here so he’s out of the way, and make sure that Condor recovers.”

“No. You will put his tent next to mine, so I am aware of everything that occurs there at all times. Do you understand?” Wolf challenges, his eyes gleaming as he waits for a protest.

Bittern, seeing how desperately Wolf wants to fight, chooses not to give him any trouble. “Very well. Lead us up to your tent then.” She reaches down and picks up the reins, handing them calmly to Wolf, her eyes lowered in false respect.

Wolf growls, but says nothing as he leads the horse to its intended destination. Jackal had been quick to delegate Wolf’s commands, and men have already pitched their leader’s tent. By the time the wagon stops rolling, a muddy spot has formed in the dirt from the amount of traffic passing through it. “Make camp there,” Wolf smirks as he points to the middle of the mud-hole.

“You can’t be serious!” Grouse interjects, eyeing the squalor and imagining all the infectious diseases that are sure to breed in the trench. “That is—”

“Perfect,” Bittern interrupts, slamming an elbow sharply into her companion’s stomach. Grouse coughs, doubling over inside the caravan.

Wolf, feeling cheated of his anticipated squabble, grumbles as he skulks away, intending to find one of his pack that is willing to spar with him. He winces as he hurries off, his head throbbing with need to see Iris once more.

“You…bitch! You…can’t…be serious,” Grouse wheezes through gritted teeth, turning on Bittern the minute Wolf is out of earshot. “Why didn’t you—?”

“Wolf was waiting for us to make trouble,” Bittern replies, her eyes scanning the crowds for any signs of listening ears. “I don’t know if it’s because we’re from the House of Vultures, or if he’s just going mental, but Wolf doesn’t trust us. Anything we do wrong is going to result in a punishment taken out on Cyrus. We need to watch ourselves around him.”

“Need help setting up your tent?” A playful voice whispers as a hand ruffles Grouse’s hair.

“Goldeneye!” Grouse squeaks as she wraps her arms around the man, his yellow eyes gleaming with amusement. “Where have you been all this time?”

“Taking stock of the enemy,” Goldeneye mutters, grabbing canvas, rope, and tent pegs from the caravan. “I don’t trust the Wolf. He’s planning something horrible for these people, I just know it. Yet every time I get close, he manages to keep me out of his plans.”

“That’s because you’re not as talented as Wren,” Bittern jibes, a rare smile lighting her features. “We are glad you are safe, Goldeneye.”

“We’ve got Condor…Cyrus.” Grouse stutters over his real name as their former leader moans from his hiding place inside the wagon. “He’s in bad shape, Goldeneye. We need to get ourselves away from this place!”

“But we need to be smart about it,” Bittern interrupts shrilly, her voice hissing. “If we desert, Wolf will make it his mission to track us down before we reach the tree line. We’ll never make it across all this open space and sand!”

“Well, what does that leave for us?” Grouse mutters as they fall silent. “We can’t stay here and let Wolf slaughter Cyrus!”

“I know what you’re saying is true, but we can’t just abandon this place either. There are good, honest people here too. Despite what Wolf might want us all to believe, there are people here who do not agree with his choices, Grouse. And what about the innocent bystanders in the House of Piranhas, caught in the middle of a fight that was never their own? Who’s protecting them?” Goldeneye counters as he peeks inside the wagon to see Cyrus. “My gods, they weren’t lying! You look horrible!”

Cyrus coughs, his hands trembling with relief as he glimpses the sky through the opening and smells the salty breeze. Open air! I can finally breathe again. He gulps down fresh breaths as though he’s just found an oasis in the Pith. “Let me out of this wagon. Please, I beg you, let me out!”

“I’m sorry, but you need to stay here until we can safely hide you,” Bittern urgently whispers, pity filling her as she watches Cyrus sit up. His hands tangle into his hair immediately, his body rocking back and forth. “You really want to remain in this camp, Goldeneye?” Bittern questions, her tone incredulous. “Surely a few good people are not worth risking the rest of us! I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but it needs to be said!”

“If we can help even one, then our presence will be useful. If not, then we can use their attack on the House of Piranhas as cover for an escape,” Goldeneye shoots back harshly. “I’m surprised at you, Bittern! Of all people, I would have expected you to be the first one to vote against running away.”

Bittern scowls, Goldeneye’s words piercing her heart deeply.

“What about Cyrus? He’s not fit to fight or run,” Grouse wonders as she creeps closer to her former leader to check his wounds. “And we can’t carry him out of this place fast enough to escape unnoticed. What are we going to do?”

Cyrus’s voice is emotionless and flat as he whispers, “I have a feeling that my brother will incapacitate me long before he takes on the Piranhas. Goldeneye, you and the girls do what you can. If the opportunity arises when you can safely get away, leave me behind.”

“You can’t be serious!” Goldeneye exclaims indignantly. “We won’t leave anyone who truly wishes

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