“I didn’t expect you back so soon, honored sister.”

  Once more, Cloud welcomes us at the front gate of the Sanctuary, though there are far fewer of us; I don’t want the kids running around this next cache, Talia wasn’t interested in another day trip, and Kierra likely has her hands in a pirate’s guts. Alana has enough energy to make up for all of them, smiling softly as we slowly ascend to the magical rock shadowing the city. Why? Because the next cache on the list is the armory. Lots of pointy bits and ends for the knight.

  “I didn’t expect to be back so soon either.”

  “Did you not receive the note?”

  “I did. This has nothing to do with the meeting.” I wave for her to come closer, whispering against one of her furry ears. “I’m actually looking for treasure.”

  “The kin are our treasure.”

  “Sure, sure. I mean my kind of treasure. Someone buried their valuables in your home.”

  Her expression as she pulls back is an amusing mixture of disapproval and curiosity. “I have never heard of anything and that is not something that could remain hidden.”

  “You sure? People are good at keeping secrets.”

  She gives me a droll look. “The kin are curious. If there was something buried in their territory, they would dig it up.”

  “Ah, but there’s the problem. It’s not in one of the Steps. It’s underneath something called the Ranch.”

  She sucks in a sharp breath. Then? Her expression becomes something ferocious. I think, yeah. This is the first time I’ve seen her mad. Not annoyed, but well and truly pissed off.

  “Honored sister.”

  “Yes!”

  “I must ask a favor of you.”

  “Sure, anything.”

  That calms her fierce emotions, but only a little. “Allow us to join you. If what you say is true, someone has broken the trust.”

  “I don’t mind, of course. Us?”

  “Yes. We will need to make a stop.”

  -

  I’m not surprised that Cloud leads us to the Green Step and its curated hills, but we don’t return to sprawling camp she calls home. Instead, we move deep into the land, deeper than I’ve ever gone before. The hills become sparser and the grass taller; it’s the kind of endless field where you can see the wind as it races from one end of the horizon to the other.

  There’s nothing for leagues. As pleasant as the stroll is, I’m not prepared to waste the day, not when there’s literal treasure to find. However, before I need to voice my impatience, a sound reaches my ear. It starts off gentle but quickly grows in volume and force; I can feel it through the ground. Something is coming. Something large or maybe several somethings moving together.

  It only takes a few seconds before Cloud notices, hand rising to call us to a stop.

  “What?” Alana asks, her improvements yet to extend to her senses.

  “You will see,” Cloud answers vaguely, gaze turned toward the direction of the sound.

  Alana follows her eyes. I can tell the moment she notices the horde of dark shapes racing toward us by her gasp. “What is that?” she asks, hand going to the pommel of her sword.

  “Nothing for you to fight,” Cloud says with a chuckle. “The Jeshau tribe runs and their charge won’t be stopped. We will have to run with them and speak when they break.”

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  My saint groans as the ground beneath us trembles. “And how long will that take?”

  “We are…perhaps half an hour from the nearest creek.” Cloud looks at her over her shoulder coyly. “Do you lack stamina, Alana?”

  “I’ve got plenty of stamina,” my saint growls, easily baited into a challenge as usual. She unties her sword belt and holds it out to me. “Hold it for me?”

  “I’ll guard it with my life,” I say firmly.

  She answers my vow with a dismissive huff, but my will remains stout.

  “They come,” Cloud warns us. “Run along the outskirts. Do not weave between them or you may be trampled.”

  I’d like to see them try…is my first thought. But as the crowd, or perhaps herd is the better word, approaches, I realize they are a lot bigger than I think. A lot bigger than anyone I know. Their horse-like lower halves probably have something to do with it.

  Not all beasts of burden are equal. Most horses are squat things, broad with muscles, slow and dim, but ultimately reliable. Messengers and the rich have taller, handsome beasts bred for speed and wit. The best beasts for pulling heavy loads are mixes of the two; they need to be strong, but fast enough to set a good traveling pace and smart enough to be well-trained. War horses are something else; they are the best of everything, finely honed weapons. I’ve never seen a proper warhorse; they don’t come thundering down the dirt roads of a small village for no reason. Pete and Pot talked about them. There aren’t many bandits that require the army’s attention, but the few that manage meet the cavalry. The stories about them are…nasty.

  What’s barreling toward us are a fusion of those stories mixed with the usual craziness of the Temple. From the waist up, men and women dressed in minimal clothes, black rings tattooed over their necks and wrists, one or two horns jutting out of their foreheads. From the waist down, the body of horses, four powerful legs tearing up the ground.

  Oh, but not all of them. The horse people lead the herd but there are regular people trailing behind them. By regular, I mean that they are running on two legs rather than four. They are still enormous and there’s a generous smattering of horns amongst them, though they don’t adorn every head.

  I smile as I recall a certain party. I don’t think of it often; it was swiftly and overwhelmingly crushed by the bad news and terrible events that followed. But it was a wonderful night, filled with friends, new and old. “I see. We’re meeting your boss.”

  “She will have to be involved if we are to confront the Ranch,” Cloud agrees with as smile. “She also planned to attend your meeting. Now, prepare.”

  Alana bends her knees, her fingertips touching the grass. I jump a few times, loosening up and readying my body to move. The herd sounds like rolling thunder as they pass. They hoot and holler, waving and gesticulating wildly. Their good cheer is infectious and before I know it, I’m throwing my arms about and hollering back. Then Cloud moves up, dashing alongside the group in the back, Alana and I right behind her.

  Being the midst of a group, dozens of individuals moving in the same direction, under their own power…it’s electrifying. I feel the urge to shoot ahead, to run free, show them what real speed looks like. Saints, a few of them might even be able to keep up. But I relent, focusing my attention on Alana. Kierra really does good work. The Templetees spend years perfecting their physiques. Kierra’s only been working with her for months and she has no problem keeping up with them, her breathing harsh but measured as she sprints.

  Cloud was a little long with her estimate; I can’t tell exactly how much time passes but it’s less than half an hour. The impacts of hundreds of feet cover the sound of the creek; I don’t notice it until the herd stops beside it, gradually slowing to a stop and breaking up as they start to make camp. Cloud leads us a bit away and is drinking from the creek when a familiar form approaches us.

  Impressive height, thick limbs, broad shoulders, and dark coloring topped with a white horn. Stampede That Shakes the Mountain, or Shake, is walking force, the kind of woman that makes trouble think twice about coming anywhere near her. She looks like she can twist a tree into a knot, but what little I’ve seen of her has been gentle. Forceful and direct, but gentle.

  Her smile is wide and happy as she holds out her arms, scooping Cloud into a sweaty hug; far from being upset, my friend happily nuzzles into the woman’s neck. “The wind brings unexpected gifts,” she pronounces happily. “And unexpected treats.” Her smile gains a wicked edge as she turns toward me. “Have you come to accept my offer to share a tent?”

  “I wish.” They release each other and I step forward, hoping I’m reading the situation right. I am; she doesn’t hesitate to scoop me up too. “Unfortunately, this is business. Though I’m not quite sure what kind.”

  “The Outer Ring has broken faith.”

  Shake’s expression is thunderous at Cloud’s pronouncement. “Reckless fists follow reckless words.”

  “Lou has come seeking a treasure trove, at the Ranch. There is a chance it was placed there without their knowledge…”

  “But unlikely.” One of her feet taps the ground in an odd rhythm as she thinks. “What is this treasure?”

  For the first time, I hesitate; I like these Temple women, I like them a whole lot, but the Authority is mine. Mine to share, maybe, but mine.

  My reticence doesn’t go unnoticed. Shake huffs. “We do not want what is yours, sister. We must know how they have broken faith.”

  Suspicion still licks at my thoughts, but they are worth the chance. “A cache of weapons. Old ones, maybe enchanted, maybe functional, maybe not.”

  The big woman’s frown deepens; she’s practically vibrating with anger but remains silent, eyes hard.

  “I’m guessing that’s bad?” Alana says slowly, watching her with worried eyes.

  Cloud, frowning just as deeply, huffs.

  “Yes, sweet sister. That is bad.”