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shoulder. Barrow had called out as he worked to steady Toshach. Caber pinned his ears back, but Ember quickly checked the young stallion before he could bite the other horse.
    Reining Toshach in, Barrow slowed their pace to a walk. The horses blew clouds of hot air, and their chests were lathered from the hard run. Barrow kept Toshach moving forward. He sat tense in the saddle, waiting. A moment later, he swore and swung down from the saddle.
    Ember brought Caber to a halt, watching as Barrow knelt by Toshach’s right foreleg.
    “He’s favoring this foot,” Barrow told her without looking up. “If we keep riding, he’ll pull up lame soon enough.”
    Barrow cursed again. “I’m sorry, Ember. I knew it was a risk to press the horses this hard at night. It’s too easy for them to be injured by stones or branches on a path they can’t see.”
    “What should we do?” Ember asked, trying to remain calm.
    “I have the means to make an herb poultice that should give Toshach some relief,” Barrow answered. “But we’ll need to rest him for a few hours, and when we continue, we’ll be traveling much more slowly.”
    Ember nodded, swallowing the hard lump in her throat.
    “We’ve covered a lot of ground,” Barrow said. “With luck, this delay shouldn’t put us in any more danger than we already face.”
    He scanned the valley floor that buttressed the narrow path. “Let’s head to that copse of pines. We shouldn’t stay in the open.”
    Barrow led Toshach from the path and toward the cluster of trees. Ember stayed in the saddle but followed at a slight distance. Caber snorted and tossed his head, confused and frustrated by the sudden change of pace. Leaning forward to rest her head against the stallion’s neck, Ember murmured soothing sounds until Caber’s protests subsided.
    When Barrow led Toshach into the copse, the pair suddenly vanished from sight. Arriving just behind them, Ember was grateful for the shelter the trees provided. Huddled together as if for comfort, the tall pines bent inward. At their upper reaches, the branches and needles tangled together. Ember might have wagered that if she jumped from the top of one tree toward the center of the ring, the branches were so tightly woven they’d break her fall, catching her in a net of fragrant greenery.
    “Should I unsaddle him?” Ember asked as she swung out of Caber’s saddle.
    Barrow shook his head. “We’re not likely to be surprised by an enemy, but it would be foolish to take anything for granted. We should be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”
    Ember settled for freeing Caber of his bridle and giving his ears a good scratching. Barrow gathered herbs and a strip of cloth from Toshach’s saddlebags. He laid the cloth flat on the ground, measuring the herbs into a heap at the center. He hunted the soil until he found a stone that matched the size of his hand and, adding a bit of water from one of the skins, crushed the herbs into a paste.
    “Ember.” Barrow beckoned her to join him as he crouched beside Toshach’s injured leg.
    She knelt alongside him as Toshach watched them, flicking his ears in curiosity. Barrow held the poultice in one hand and gestured for Ember to crouch beside the stallion. He pressed her palm against the muscles just above Toshach’s fetlock.
    Toshach snorted, and Barrow spoke to him gently. “Easy, old boy. We’re only trying to help.”
    Barrow looked at Ember. “Do you feel that heat?”
    Ember nodded. Beneath Toshach’s coat, his muscles radiated a strange warmth that pulsed against Ember’s skin.
    “That’s the injury,” Barrow told her. “The only way to cure it is a good rest, but the poultice will ease the swelling and some of the pain.”
    Ember watched as Barrow wrapped the poultice tightly around Toshach’s leg. When he finished, Toshach whickered, lowering his head and blowing into Barrow’s face.
    “I know, friend.” Barrow laughed. “It’s not your fault.” He patted the