Page 46

It smelled of rain, pine needles, and woodsmoke.

I knew that smell.

I lifted my head slightly.

Rain, pine needles, woodsmoke.

Silas.

Of course it was Silas.

The enormous grizzly carrying me through the woods was the same man who had carried my bag up two hundred and twelve steps without making me ask for help once.

I didn't say anything. I only tightened my arms around him and let him carry me.

The trees gradually thinned until the black wall of Ironmoor appeared ahead of us, gray in the first light of dawn. The bear followed the wall north to the small postern gate at the foot of the Lantern Tower, only a short distance from the frosted strip of grass where a black wolf had paced beneath my window.

There, Silas lowered himself onto his belly again.

I slid carefully down his shoulder and landed on my good foot. He stayed pressed against my side until I caught hold of the wall and found my balance.

Only then did he move away.

That was when I noticed the red cord tied around one of his massive forelegs, just like the one Jax had worn.

He had not even looked at my wrist.

"Thank you," I whispered.

The bear regarded me for a moment, then sneezed directly in my direction with such deliberate solemnity that I decided it meant I was welcome.

Above us, the horn sounded for dawn, long and low across the walls.

Silas hesitated.

The postern behind me opened onto a spiral staircase too narrow for a bear his size. He couldn't carry me any farther without shifting back, which would leave him naked and identifiable in the open after dawn. If anyone found him here beside an uncaught runner, Oda's rule would make it perfectly clear what he had done.

He lifted one huge paw and set it down again, then looked from me to the tower stairs and back.

I knew that expression too. I had seen it often enough on dogs who understood they were supposed to leave a kennel but had no intention of doing it.

"I'm all right from here," I whispered. "You can't shift here. They'll know you helped me. Go. It's dawn."

He stayed where he was.

"Go," I said again, more firmly this time.

A grizzly standing at the foot of the Lantern Tower in full daylight was going to attract questions neither of us needed.

I looked down at my left wrist. It was muddy, scratched, half-frozen, and completely bare.

When I looked up again, the bear had gone. Nothing remained on the grass except frost and a trail of paw prints curving away around the tower, each one wider than both my hands with my fingers spread.

No healer appeared at the postern, and I had no intention of limping across the entire fortress in search of one. There might have been healers waiting at the main gate with blankets and hot tea, or there might not. Either way, reaching them would have meant crossing half of Ironmoor on an ankle that couldn't support my weight.

The sensible choice was obviously the infirmary.

Unfortunately, I had already seen how eagerly this place cataloged weakness.