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he’s going to become frustrated. You’re trying to do what’s best for him, and he’s trying to prove he isn’t worthless.”
    Breton frowned. “He is not worthless.”
    Maiten held up his hands in a helpless gesture. “I wish you the very best of luck convincing him of that, considering you haven’t even let him attend any of the planning sessions with Captain Silvereye. Did you really think those constraints on him would do any good? Hellfires, Breton. You named your foal well; he’s a ceaseless wind. You can’t keep him locked away for long. You, of all people, should have known better.”
    “I know.”
    “Good. Just give him some time. I’ll watch over him when he’s back. Varest and Ceres can help. That’ll free you to keep an eye on the Delrose herd. Once his temper has cooled, I recommend apologizing.”
    Bristling at Maiten’s soft-spoken suggestion, Breton glared at the other Guardian. Arguing wouldn’t help anything—not when his friend was right. “I was foolish.”
    “We all made mistakes. You said Varest was going after him, right?”
    “Maybe twenty minutes ago?”
    Maiten glanced back at the destruction behind them. “He has a good head start then. Better than us.”
    “It’s a good thing we didn’t wait any longer,” Breton agreed, shuddering at the thought of what would have happened if Captain Silvereye hadn’t insisted on leaving when they had.
    “That was uncomfortably close.”
    Breton considered Crysallis’s warning, wondering if he had made the right decision to trust her with Kalen. “Crysallis is searching for him as well. She seemed to have something important to tell him.”
    “You’re not serious, are you? You let Crysallis go after him alone? What were—”
    Breton interrupted Maiten by pointing at the flood behind them and the thick smoke rising through the trees. “I’m as serious as that. She warned me about the swarm. When I told her Kalen wasn’t here, she was frightened.”
    Maiten paled. “Crysallis was frightened?”
    “She was.”
    “What is capable of scaring her ?” Maiten asked in disbelief.
    Breton wasn’t sure, but he had his suspicions. Death had a name, and it was skreed.
     
    ~~*~~
     
    Not even an hour quelled Breton’s need to check over his shoulder for any signs that they were being followed. The stench of decay hung in the air, but there was no evidence of the swarm pursuing them. He wanted Honey to appear carrying her Rider, but his hope proved fruitless. He sighed, settled in the saddle, and hoped Varest found Kalen before Crysallis or the swarm did.
    Crysallis was many things, but she wasn’t fool enough to endanger one of Kalen’s foals. She’d proved that in Morinvale.
    “Where do you think the swarm is going?” Maiten asked.
    Breton sighed. “Crysallis said they were heading west. At the speed it moved, it’ll hit the Rift in three weeks, maybe less.”
    One of the nearby mercenaries snorted. “Better there than here,” he said in passable Rifter.
    Breton twisted in the saddle to face the Mithrian. Perin shied, ears back. “You speak Rifter!”
    The Mithrian saluted. “Some of us do, sir. Not many, but some of us do. Captain asked me to keep you company, sir.”
    “He’s better at it than Kalen was when you brought him down,” Maiten said before laughing. “Ride well, Mithrian.”
    “Ride well, Rifter.” The man straightened in the saddle, running a hand through his curly brown hair. “I’m Lyeth.”
    “I’m Breton. He’s Maiten.”
    “Your reputations precede you,” Lyeth replied. “Captain Silvereye thought you’d be more at ease with us if you knew there were some among us who could speak your language. I’m under the assumption you all speak Kelshite, but a few of you don’t speak Mithrian?”
    Maiten chuckled. “Breton’s Mithrian will give you nightmares.”
    Breton scowled at his red-headed friend.
    “Captain Silvereye wants to see one of you to report to him about that mess behind us,”