She felt a quick hitch in her breath at that. He knew what she was now. Did intent matter? A spell caster could be as mercurial as anyone else.
But she said nothing, and they made their way into the jumble of tents around them.
She loved the haphazard nature of the column.
She had seen the Kassian mobile forces, with their straight rows, and she thought Luc had it right to let his soldiers place their tents wherever they wanted.
It was harder to find people, easier to get lost.
All of this would make infiltrating the column difficult on their enemies.
Luc questioned the small groups huddled around fire pits or sitting in front of their tents, playing stones, and their answers led them to a large tent near the baths.
“Have you seen Haslia?” he asked two women who were wrapped in blankets, sitting close to a small fire with a pot over the flames.
“She returned to the tent less than an hour ago, Commander.” One of the women stood respectfully. “I can call her for you.”
She stepped into the tent, then came out almost immediately. “She’s not here.”
“I didn’t see her go.” The other woman stood as well.
“She’s taken everything. Her pack, her bedroll.” The woman peered back into the tent. “Look, she left through the back. The rear pegs have been pulled up.”
Sure enough, the back canvas was flapping loosely in the gentle breeze.
Ava moved to the back to see the path Haslia would have taken and Luc came to stand beside her, looking at the criss-cross of paths through the tents out to the plain.
“She was supposed to have left something in the bushes for the Kassian spies.” Ava spoke quietly. “I don’t think it was a coincidence that she was with the group who came to look for me. The scouts said they’d only come so close to the column because there was a message to pick up from a spy, but it wasn’t where it was supposed to be.”
“I ordered everyone to keep close to camp last night, because of how close the Kassian scouting parties were coming. I didn’t want anyone taken prisoner or killed. We thought the Kassian were trying to get a better look at the Venyatux column, and maybe they were, but the result was Haslia would have found it difficult to sneak out.”
“So she thought she could do it under the guise of helping to rescue me.” Ava nodded. “She could have left a message when she was with Deni and the others. She went back to the column with my mount before you killed the spies, so as far as she was aware there was still a possibility they’d come back for it.”
“It’s worth a look.” Luc studied her carefully. “I’ll get Rafe to come with me, show me the path they took. You were badly hurt this morning and you look exhausted. Go rest.”
“You should put a guard on Revek,” Ava said. “She wanted him dead for a reason. She would have already planned to run before she came to the tent to see him. She was flustered to find us with him, but she risked casting her spell anyway. I think Rafe and Deni questioning her about the story she was telling frightened her enough she decided it was time to go, but she was worried Revek would tell you something, or reveal something once it was discovered she’d gone, that made her decide to kill him.”
“And kill him in a way that looked like a result of his injuries.” Luc swore softly. “If you hadn’t seen the oil on his cheek . . .”
Ava lifted a shoulder. “It was more than that. I could feel something wrong, something pulling away the healing I was casting into the stitches.”
“That’s why you’re so drained. You were fighting for Rev’s life.” He stepped close. “You didn’t want to tell me what was wrong before, because you’d have had to admit you were spell casting. And you thought that would . . . upset me.”
“Upset you again,” Ava clarified.
He turned away. “The way I reacted this morning is not something I’m proud of. In the camps, there was someone watching us sometimes, eyes that we couldn’t see. I think they had something like your cloak on them. Would they need to have been like you, or just have a cloak someone like you had worked?”
Ava turned back toward the healer’s tent, because she wasn’t sure Haslia wouldn’t pretend to have run, and stayed around until she was sure her victim was dead.
“I think they would just need a cloak that was worked with invisibility. But I’m not sure how long the casting would work.”
“How long do yours work?” Luc asked.
She shrugged. “I add new things all the time, so it’s difficult for me to say. How long did the protection I gave you on that handkerchief work?”
He sucked in a breath. “I think it still does.”
She tilted her head from side to side in a maybe gesture. “The shirt you’re wearing is a stronger version of it, so that’s what would have helped you today. I don’t know what strength would be left in the handkerchief.”
“And the workings you did in my skin?” His voice was almost inaudible as they traversed the camp.
She glanced at him guiltily. “I didn’t know how that would work.” She hunched her shoulders. “Theoretically it shouldn’t have worked on skin at all, but I knew from when I stitched myself,” she touched the place above her eye where her cousin had struck her with the pommel of his sword, “that I could make the skin smooth again, if not scar-free.”
“What happened there?” He stopped and reached out a hand, rubbed a fingertip over the skin above her eye.
She took hold of his hand, moved it to the correct place. He peered closer.
“There’s no sign anything was ever there.”
“The Herald struck me, and split the skin. I’m glad there’s no longer a sign anything was there.” She wanted no reminder of what her cousin had done to her. “Perhaps by the time the working fades, the magic is no longer needed because the scar is gone.”
They had reached the healer’s tent. Dorea was sitting by the fire, sipping from a cup.
“How’s he doing?” Luc asked.
“Much better since we wiped that filth on his cheek away. Did you find that woman?”
“No. She’s packed her things and disappeared. But she might still be hanging around, watching to see if Rev is dead.”
Dorea sucked in a breath, as if the possibility hadn’t occurred to her. “What do we do?”
“We set guards, and keep a lookout for her.”
While they talked softly about the arrangements, Ava moved into the tent, saw that Revek was asleep on his pallet.
His color was good, his breathing even.
She sank down beside him to get a better look at her working.
As she sat on her haunches, the tent wall beside her moved.
She waited, keeping absolutely still, as the canvas was lifted a little.
She slid her knife out of her boot. If this was Haslia coming back to finish the job, she would be getting a big surprise.
A hand snaked through the gap, and she focused on it, waiting for Haslia to wriggle through, when the hand flicked something in Revek's and her direction.
And then suddenly, she was on fire. Or her cloak was.
She felt a pitching sensation, as every protective working she’d embroidered into the fabric pulled hard in warning, and she stumbled to the side, fetching up against the wall of the tent.