The woods were thick with the sound of death.

A commoner wouldn’t have recognized it. They wouldn’t have noticed the silence of the underbrush, the birds that did not chirp, the squirrels that did not chitter. But Kiyan did, and she knew what it meant. Something had come through here before her, and it had come to hunt.

Kiyan’s first thought was a mountain cat or perhaps even a graeling. But graelings did not bother themselves with the likes of birds or squirrels. Whatever had come had killed all the little creatures it could find and scared the rest into hiding.

Wolves then? A pack would do it, seven or eight with a few cubs. But Kiyan saw no tracks or broken branches, no trunks with scratched bark or pawprints in the snowy mud. Wolves were smart, but not smart enough to hide from her.

Kiyan continued through the frost-bitten woods, following the silence. Whatever it was, it would be a good catch. The hill tribes to the north were so lean and harsh they ate anything, and if its hide was thick enough to roam up here, it would fetch a finer price than its meat.

Kiyan slit the side of a tree trunk with her dagger, straight and deep, and watched the dull green sap that bubbled from it. Thick, but not so thick that it could not flow. That was good. It meant she had a few more months before the winter storms closed the passes to travelers.

Kiyan took a spile and a moleskin pouch and bottled some sap for later. It was nasty stuff, but it kept you from thirst far better than water, and she’d need it when she crossed the mountains and into Qae.

Sap collected, Kiyan continued on her way. The woods grew quieter, and Kiyan grew more suspicious. Anyone could’ve noticed the silence now, the complete lack of life in the trees around her.

Then, Kiyan came across a dead bird, lying in the snow. It had been strangled, likely, its neck jutting out at an odd angle and its eyes wide open. Its feathers were mottled with blood, the crimson red soaking into the blue and pink–

Kiyan froze. Pink?

She crouched down and turned the thing over. Buried in its left wing was a little wooden dart, dripping with toxin and feathered bright pink. And then Kiyan understood. It hadn’t been strangled; it had fallen from the air…

Which also meant another thing. Kiyan wasn’t the hunter in all this; she never had been.

She was the prey.

Kiyan ducked for cover just in time. A red dart came whistling her way, burying itself in the ground beside her. Two more came flying, and Kiyan drew her bow.

Wait for him to reload…

Another dart fired and Kiyan spun left as it did, firing an arrow into the woods. It missed its target completely; he was camouflaged so well. That didn’t matter though. Both of them knew who’d win in a prolonged firefight, which left him no choice but to approach…

Kiyan stiffened as a gentle set of footsteps padded their way through the snow, trying fruitlessly to hide themselves from her ears.

Shouldn’t have killed all the animals if you wanted to sneak up on me, she thought grimly. She fired a few more pointless arrows into the distance. Let him think she hadn’t noticed.

He was close now, but she forced herself to wait. Too early, and he’d have a chance to recover. Too late, and… well, Kiyan had always been rather fond of her head.

A branch cracked behind her and Kiyan spun out around the trunk, dagger in hand. She had him up against the tree in seconds, blade at his throat.

Laethe had the audacity to laugh. “Should’ve known better than to sneak up on you, Kitty Kat.”

Kiyan pressed the blade closer. His face was painted green and his black hair smothered with mud. His thick, woolen clothes, all brown too, were covered in bandoliers and pouches, bulging with multicolored darts. And his eyes, pale red, glimmered with the delight of a challenge. “How many in the woods, Laethe?”

Laethe gave her an innocent look. “Who’s to say I didn’t come alone?”

“You’re an arrogant bastard, Laethe, but you’re not a moron. Where are they, huh? The twins? Shay?” Immediately Kiyan knew that was all wrong. Ambush wasn’t Shay’s style; she’d have challenged her in the streets with a sword. And the twins… they weren’t fighters. Laethe wouldn’t have trusted them with this.

Laethe grinned at her. “Shay’s not here, Kat. Neither are the twins.”

Kiyan kicked at his free hand, which had been trying to reach for a dart. “And why are you?”

Laethe seemed amused. “Why, don’t you know it’s high treason to steal from the Wreathking?”

“Good thing he’s forgiven you for it then.”

“He has, actually,” said Laethe. “Provided I fill some bounties, that is.”

“What? You’re lying.” But his eyes told her he wasn’t. “The king, Laethe? After all he did to us?”

Laethe shrugged. “My only loyalty is to money, Kat. It used to be yours too.”

“Then he had every Guildborn who helped the rebellion flayed and hung from the gates of the Black Keep.”

“I’m sure you’ll get to a point eventually.”

“He’s cruel, Laethe. He butchered us like pigs. Put our families to the sword.”

“We’re street thieves, Kat. We don’t have families.” Laethe’s eyes softened. “And the rebellion’s over. They paid us well, but their cause was never ours.”

“It became ours when he started hunting us in the streets.”

“Well, he’s not hunting me anymore.” Laethe affixed her with a look. “Don’t take the high road with me. You know any Guildborn in my position would’ve done the same.”

“And what was his offer?”

“Hunt down the rest of the Guildborn who fought him, and walk away with my limbs intact. You’re the big fish, obviously. I get quite a hefty sum when I take you out.”

“I’ve got a blade to your neck, Laethe. I think ‘when’ might be a little hopeful.”

Laethe gave her a guilty grin. “About that. Shay and the twins might not be here, but I didn’t come completely alone.”

Something hard and blunt cracked against Kiyan’s head, and the world went dark.