"What?"
She marched to the second bedroom. He didn't make a move to stop her. She threw open the door to see two small sleeping mats. Unmade but empty.
She turned to him. "Where are the children?"
He looked perplexed for a moment, then he nodded. "I haven't seen any. That's odd . . . Unless . . . Are children more susceptible? More likely to become shadow stalkers? Or perhaps they've been taken--"
Now he paused, obviously realizing what he was suggesting. Shadow stalkers were predators. If they took the children, it would be no different from a bear carrying off what it could easily drag back to its den for . . .
"We'll figure that out later," he said. "We're almost at the barracks."
Moria wasn't in the barracks. There was no sign she'd been there in their absence--the door was ajar, as they'd left it.
"She's rescued the children," Ashyn said as they stood in the empty barracks hall. "They escaped and ran to her. They trust her. She'd take them someplace safe."
"Without fetching you?"
"She must have had a reason. I know a few places she might hide with them."
Ronan stepped into her path. "That doesn't make sense, Ashyn. If she was looking for a safe place, why not bring the children to us, in the cells?"
She skirted past him. "There's no escape route down there. If the shadow stalkers came, we'd be trapped. And she might lead the stalkers there. She'd take the children someplace else and return for me when she could."
Ashyn kept going until she reached the wall of the livestock enclosure. From within, she heard silence. No cackle of chickens or grunt of pigs.
She ran along the fence, past the village's main gate. On reflex, she looked for the guard on duty. Of course there wasn't one. She could see his empty post. No trace of him. Not even blood. Just . . .
Empty.
She ran around the livestock enclosure. The heavy gate was closed. Ronan helped her push it open, all the while muttering, "She's not here, Ashyn. You know she's not."
Ashyn squeezed through. Behind her, Tova whined. She turned to see him trying to push his massive head through the narrow opening. Ronan heaved the gate a little more.
When Ashyn tried to run again, Ronan caught her. He motioned for silence as they looked and listened. Nothing. Then, as they were about to move, a whisper came from the barn. Ashyn smiled at Ronan, but his expression stayed grim, and his grip on her cloak only tightened.
"Slowly," he whispered. "Get behind me and stay there."
She didn't appreciate being given orders, but he did have the sword.
They crept along the fence until they reached the barn. The sounds from within became clearer: first rustles and whispers, then finally voices.
"I heard something," a young girl murmured. Someone shushed her quickly, but Ashyn smiled. She'd been right. The children were here. Moria was here.
Ronan nudged her into the lead, whispering, "They ought to see you first. I'll wait here until you can explain."
Before she could argue, he slid off into the night. Ashyn opened the barn door. An excited cry. A scrabble of shoes. Tova tensed. A small figure shot out from the darkness as someone whispered to stop, to come back. The figure launched herself at Ashyn. It was Wenda, the girl who'd walked with Ashyn to the temple.
Ashyn hugged her and motioned her back farther into the barn, where a woman leaned out. Someone closed the door behind Ashyn, making her jump. A lantern swung up. A guard stepped forward. Ashyn didn't recognize him--he looked like many of the others, around thirty summers, brown-skinned, dark braids, no tattoos. A warrior, but not from the highest families.
Ashyn did recognize the woman. One of the farmer's wives. Beatrix. She was older--her children had grown and left Edgewood for something better, as many did.
"Where's my sister?" Ashyn asked. "Did she leave to look for me?"
Silence. Another figure shuffled from the shadows. An elderly man, past his days of working. Quintin was his name, as he reminded her. The guard was Gregor.
"My sister," Ashyn repeated after the introductions. "She was here, was she not?"
"No, miss," Beatrix said. "I haven't seen her."