On the sixth day of my separation from Kel, I am woken by the sound of hooves. I do not sit up, but roll over in the long grass and spy the King's soldiers in their gray uniforms, riding on the distant road. Tug catches my eye. The others do not stir.

I lie still until I am sure the soldiers have passed. Then I rise quietly, stretch my legs and amble away from the men. I do not intend to run off. I only wish to be on my own for a short time, in a sunny field, with the illusion of freedom. But Tug follows, swishing through the grass behind me.

"How does the grass grow so quickly here?" I ask.

"It is like this further south. The land comes back to life more swiftly after the winter. Here." I turn and see he has my bow and arrow. I look at him sceptically. Clearly he does not fear I will shoot him. His self-assurance on the matter makes me want to take him by surprise. Just imagine the look on his face!

But once again, he is accurate in his assessment. I had a hard enough time shooting his wolf dog. I kill beasts of the forest only for survival. Shooting a man in cold blood, when I am not under attack, goes against my nature.

"Let's hunt," he says. "I am tired of eating grain."

For a moment my gaze wanders to the pack on his back. Are my knives in there? I miss them. Still, manipulating my bow and arrow again is better than nothing. I remove my cloak and drop it on the ground to collect later. Once my quiver is strapped to my back, I try pulling an arrow in its bow. I am happy to discover all the riding and Deadran's remedies have strengthened my arm.

"See if you can keep up," Tug says. And with that he is leaping through the grass towards woodland. I run after him. It feels wonderful to be moving my stiff legs after so many days in a saddle, to have the sun on my face, to smell the warm grass, hear the birds chirping, and think of nothing. For all his size, Tug is fast. I can barely keep up.

We enter the woodland and a welcome hush fills the air. Buds sprout from slim trees. Blue and purple flowers poke up through layers of brown mushy leaves. Tug signals me to halt. I stop twenty feet from him and listen, catching the rustle of small animals foraging—a red squirrel, and birds. There are hundreds and hundreds of tiny birds with blue-tipped wings and yellow bellies. Then I sense the mind of a larger creature.

We creep forward silently. Soft white speckles appear through spindly branches. A fawn. Its tawny ears twitch as it wobbles on delicate legs. Tug raises his bow and arrow. Pa taught me never to strip the world of such young beauty.

I lower the toes of my boot across a large twig. As it snaps, Tug fires his arrow. The bow pings and the fawn scrambles away. I'm surprised he missed such a clear shot, even with my interference, until I see the rabbit lying in the undergrowth, sprawled on its side, twitching.

Tug strides through the mulch and picks it up. His wrists flick. The creature's neck cracks as it breaks. A swift, clean death. Tug holds out the rabbit for me to carry.

"Do you not like deer?" he asks.

I grab the rabbit's ears and offer up a silent thank you to the spirit world for this gift of life. "It was too young."

Tug's lips close in what almost resembles approval. If it were a week ago, I would have been shocked, but I have seen him changing over the last few days. Since he made his deal with the Prince, he reminds me of a sleeping volcano rumbling to life, or the earth shifting in imperceptible increments beneath one's feet.

"Let me see what kind of shot you are," he says. He takes out his knife and carves a slash in a tree fifteen feet away. If I didn't know better, I would think he was mocking me. The target is ridiculously easy. Maybe he thinks my injury is still too much of a handicap to my aim.

I hand him the rabbit and raise my bow and arrow, flexing and testing my healed arm. I am about to shoot straight for the cross center when I sense another mind in the woodlands. The Prince has followed us. The stealth of his pursuit and the fact he now keeps his distance, means he is spying on us. I tilt my bow pulling my elbow a little too high and adjust my aim. The arrow skims through the air, misses the tree and lands in bushes.

Tug nods. "Your technique needs work," he says, retrieving the arrow, "but your instinct is good."

Instinct? I scrutinize his tattooed face. Does he know the Prince is watching?

"Try again." He walks back to me and as I draw to fire, moves in to adjust my arms. My chest rises and falls erratically. He is up to something.

"He does not trust you," Tug breathes quietly, "And you cannot trust him." Yes, he knows the Prince is watching. "His whole escort was murdered, yet he, the assassination target, miraculously escapes. Be wary of him, Mirra. If you fail his test or do not help him in the way he expects, he might drop this act of kindness. Our lives are in your hands."

He releases his grip on my arm. This time, when I fire, my arrow nips the tree, bark splinters, and a few shavings flutter into the air.

"Better!" he says loudly. "Again!" I pull a new arrow from my quiver, placing it lopsidedly in the bow. Tug leans in to make the necessary adjustments.

"Your life need not be in my hands," I murmur. "You could change that now. You could let me go."

He taps my right elbow, indicating I should lower it a little as I take aim. "Then how would you get into the Lyndonian fort?"

"That is not your concern. You could return my knives and I'd steal my horse while you're all sleeping and you could leave me a head start." I release the tension on the bow. My arrow shafts through the air, royally missing its target.

Tug rubs his growing stubble. "You have some talent for a girl," he says in a voice loud enough to carry to the Prince. "But you could not survive out here on your own." His double innuendo is not the height of subtlety and I grow nervous the Prince will understand.

"I knew with time you'd start to care about me," I say dryly. His mock concern doesn't fool me. He doesn't care whether I can rescue Kel by myself, or not. He is the reason Kel is a captive in the hands of strangers in the first place. "You're not doing this for the gold," I hiss, drawing myself up to Tug's beast face. "You have lived a hundred lives, but you only feel alive when you're in danger. Waiting to die is not living! Why do you wish to go to Lyndonia?"

Something waits for him there. It is the only explanation for the change that has slowly come over him.

Tug's hands whip out and he clenches both my wrists. My eyes water in pain.

"You have seen how I can obscure things from your sight," he growls. "Perhaps the Prince can also fool you. How thoroughly have you bothered to search the remnants of his memories?"

The leaves behind us rustle. A boot squelches in the undergrowth. Tug drops my wrists and a blank look slides over his face.

"Your Royal Highness," he says. "Excuse me, Ule," he corrects. "We thought rabbit would make a nice change for supper."

"I will look forward to it," he says.

I stand staring at the ground. The Prince is the first to break the awkward silence. "It will be dark in a few minutes," he says lightly. "We had better return to camp." Tug makes an irreverent bow and the three of us begin the walk back.

I am annoyed with Beast-face. He spoils my small respite from the fear and worry of what is coming. He stirs up questions I have pushed aside. What happened to all those written notes Prince Jakut made before the long-sleep? Why didn't he inform Deadran of the identity of his assassin before the ritual cleansing? What had he done that left him so tormented?

The truth is, my lessons with the Prince have been a welcome distraction. I have enjoyed learning about things my parents could not teach me. But Tug is right to sharpen my focus, to remind me of what I have pushed into the background. In two days we will be at the fort of Lyndonia, and both the Prince's test and my search for Kel will begin. I need all my wits about me.

The Prince and I are not in this together. He is courteous and feeds me, but when he doesn't get what he wants, and he cannot for I must escape, the mask may fall, revealing he is as dangerous as Tug. While I am pretending to be his friend, I had best not forget it. 

HELLO! Hope you liked the chapter. Don't forget to vote, comment or add it to your library. (If ya want to, of course!!) Have a great weekend. And don't forget, the next chapter will be up on Tuesday. Thanks!