KIERAN POV
The dogs found our trail at dawn.
I heard them baying in the distance—hunting hounds that Commander Voss kept for tracking deserters. Now they were tracking me.
"Ashara." I shook her shoulder gently. "Wake up. They're coming."
She groaned, her gray skin pale from blood loss and exhaustion. "Can't... run..."
"You have to." I pulled her arm over my shoulders, helping her stand. She was heavier than she looked, all muscle despite her wounds. "Come on. Please."
We stumbled deeper into the forest, but I could hear the dogs getting closer. The baying turned frenzied. They'd definitely found our scent.
"Leave me," Ashara gasped. "You run. Maybe they'll be satisfied with just—"
"No." I tightened my grip on her. "I didn't free you just to let them kill you now."
"Stupid human."
"Yeah, probably."
The forest thinned ahead. Bad. We needed thick trees to hide in. But my legs were giving out, and Ashara could barely stay conscious.
Then I saw it—a small cave, half-hidden behind fallen rocks and thick bushes. Not much, but better than nothing.
"There!" I dragged Ashara toward it. "Just a little further!"
We crashed through the bushes and into the cave just as the dogs' baying exploded nearby. I pulled branches across the entrance, trying to hide it.
Inside, the cave was barely big enough for both of us. Water dripped somewhere in the darkness. It smelled like wet earth and old stone.
Ashara collapsed against the wall, breathing hard. "They'll find us."
"Maybe not." I pressed myself against the cave entrance, peering through the branches.
Soldiers appeared through the trees. At least thirty of them, with a pack of six hunting dogs straining at their leashes.
And leading them was Ser Davos.
My stomach twisted. Part of me had hoped he'd let someone else hunt me. But no—Davos always finished his missions.
"Spread out!" he commanded. "The trail leads this direction. They're wounded and slow. We'll have them before noon."
The soldiers fanned out, searching every bush and hollow. The dogs pulled their handlers forward, noses to the ground.
One handler stopped twenty feet from our cave. His dog sniffed the air, then started pulling toward us.
I held my breath. Beside me, Ashara went completely still.
The dog barked, excited. Found something.
"What is it, boy?" The handler moved closer.
Ten feet away.
Five feet.
My hand tightened on the sword. If they found us, I'd have to fight. I'd have to kill men who were my brothers just yesterday.
The dog lunged toward our hiding spot—
Then a rabbit burst from the bushes beside the cave and bounded away.
The dog immediately changed direction, chasing after the rabbit. The handler laughed and pulled his hound back. "Just a rabbit! Keep searching!"
They moved past us.
I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
"Lucky," Ashara whispered.
"Very."
We waited in tense silence as the soldiers searched the area. Hours passed. The sun climbed higher, sending thin beams of light through the cave entrance.
Finally, Davos called out: "They must have doubled back! Circle around to the west! Move!"
The soldiers retreated, the dogs' baying fading into the distance.
We waited another hour to be sure.
"They're gone," I finally said.
"For now." Ashara shifted, and I saw fresh blood on her side. Her wound had reopened. "We can't stay here. They'll search again once they lose our trail."
"You need rest. And your wounds need—"
"Will die if we stay." She met my eyes. "And you'll die with me. Is that what you want?"
"No, but—"
"Then we move. Now."
She was right. I hated it, but she was right.
I helped her out of the cave. In daylight, she looked worse—her gray skin was ashen, her silver hair matted with blood and dirt. The wound in her side seeped constantly.
"Which way?" I asked.
She sniffed the air, closed her eyes. When she opened them, they glowed faintly green. "North. My people's hidden camp is three days north."
"Can you make it three days?"
"Have to." She took a step and nearly fell. I caught her. "Or maybe not."
"Here." I tore strips from my shirt—already ruined from our escape—and bound her wounds tighter. "This should help."
She watched me work, her expression unreadable. "Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"Helping enemy. Betraying your people. Throwing away your life." She tilted her head. "You could have left me in that cage. Could have let soldiers kill me in the forest. Why keep trying to save me?"
I thought about the orc mother singing to her baby. About the Church supply crates. About Commander Voss ordering the murder of prisoners like it was nothing.
"Because someone has to do the right thing," I said quietly. "Even if it's stupid."
Ashara was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Your people killed my brother yesterday. He was fourteen. Still learning to hunt. Not a warrior yet."
My hands froze on the bandage. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't bring him back."
"I know."
"I should hate you. Should kill you while you sleep."
"I know that too."
"But you freed me anyway. Knowing I might." She shook her head. "You're either bravest person I've met or stupidest."
"Everyone keeps saying that."
Despite everything, she almost smiled. "Come. We move before they return."
We traveled north through the forest, moving slowly because of her injuries. Every sound made us freeze. Every bird call could be a signal. Every shadow could be soldiers.
By afternoon, Ashara's fever had worsened. She leaned heavily on me, mumbling words in orcish I couldn't understand.
"Stay with me," I urged. "Just a little further."
"Tired," she mumbled. "So tired..."
"I know. But you have to stay awake. Please."
She didn't answer.
We stumbled into a small clearing as the sun began to set. I couldn't carry her any further. My arms shook from exhaustion.
I lowered her to the ground as gently as I could. Her skin burned with fever.
"Ashara? Can you hear me?"
No response.
Panic clawed at my chest. I'd come all this way, betrayed everything I knew, and she was dying anyway.
"Don't you dare," I whispered fiercely. "Don't you dare die after I gave up everything to save you."
Still nothing.
I pressed my ear to her chest. Her heartbeat was there but weak. Thready.
I needed help. Medicine. Magic. Something.
But there was nothing. Just me, alone in a forest, watching the person I'd betrayed my entire world to save slowly dying.
A twig snapped behind me.
I spun around, grabbing my sword.
Three orcs emerged from the trees—warriors by the look of them, with painted faces and massive axes. They saw Ashara lying on the ground and went rigid.
One of them roared something in orcish. All three raised their weapons.
At me.
"Wait!" I dropped my sword and raised my hands. "I'm not—I didn't—I'm trying to help her!"
The largest orc—seven feet tall with scars covering his gray arms—stepped forward. He spoke in broken human speech: "You. Human. Why you have daughter of Fireborn clan?"
"I freed her. From my people. From execution." The words tumbled out desperately. "Please, she's dying. She needs help. I don't know what to do."
The scarred orc studied me with hard amber eyes. Then he looked at Ashara. At the bandages I'd made from my shirt. At the water skin I'd given her.
"You betray your people for her?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because what they did was wrong. Because she didn't deserve to die. Because—" My voice cracked. "Please. Just help her. Kill me after if you want. But help her first."
The three orcs exchanged looks. Some silent conversation passed between them.
Then the scarred one lowered his axe. "I am Tharok. Chieftain of the Ashen Clan." He knelt beside Ashara, checking her wounds with surprisingly gentle hands. "She lives. Barely. We take her to healers."
Relief flooded through me. "Thank you. Thank you so—"
"You come too." Tharok's eyes were hard. "Our chieftains will decide what to do with human who betrays his people. Maybe we thank you. Maybe we kill you anyway."
He gestured, and the other warriors picked up Ashara carefully.
"Move, human. Our camp is close."
I followed them deeper into the forest, my exhausted brain trying to process what just happened.
I'd betrayed humanity to save an orc. Now I was walking into an orc camp where they'd decide whether I lived or died.
And somewhere behind us, Davos and Commander Voss were still hunting.
Tharok glanced back at me. "Your name, human?"
"Kieran. Kieran Ashfeld."
"Well, Kieran Ashfeld." Tharok's expression was unreadable. "You are either bravest fool I have met, or you have much bigger reason for betraying your people than you say. We will discover which."
He faced forward again.
And I wondered the same thing.
Why had I really done this?