Kira whispertail's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

The cabins sat quiet under a thin moon. Kira took first watch on the low stone she had set days ago as her lookout, a flat slab pushed against the pine where she could see the slope below. She lifted the old spyglass and swept the dark. Three tents ringed a small fire on the hill beneath the ridge. She counted shapes. One watcher held a lens of his own, pointed straight at the cabins. On his hand a small ring caught the firelight — a crossed mark she had seen pressed into wax on a thieves' guild notice. Her stomach tightened. She slipped back to the fire and crouched by Mira. "Three of them," she whispered. "Camped on the hill. Watching us." Mira's ears flicked. She did not ask which us. Kira noticed that, and filed it away. "Could be my trail," Kira said. "Could be yours." Mira only nodded. They traded watch at the hour Kira had named. Kira lay down with her hand on her knife and made herself breathe slow. Sleep came thin. When it finally took her, the fire was steady and Mira sat with her back to it, eyes on the dark. Kira woke to cold ash and an empty seat. Mira's blanket was folded. Her boots were gone. Down the slope, between black trunks, a small shape moved toward the three tents and did not look back. Kira's hand closed on the spyglass. The question she could not answer last night had answered itself.