The Silvered by Tanya Huff

followed, he had to know Annalyse was pregnant, had to assume the rest of them were as well. Danika found it hard to believe that five of them traveling together were in a similar condition, but that was exactly the sort of cascading coincidence that Soothsayers relied on. Or caused, according to some philosophies. Given the conversation she’d overheard between the lieutenant and the captain, the men had not been informed about theprophecy they followed. She wondered if they’d be more sympathetic or less if they knew. They could be kinder to their captives or use the information against them. Could she risk the latter for the chance of the former?
    Hare, the man who never missed his shot, frowned thoughtfully as Annalyse straightened, breathing heavily. Old enough to have a wife and children, it looked as though he suspected the reason behind her illness.
    Fingers digging into her arm, the lieutenant dragged Danika around to face him. “Stop pretending you don’t understand me…”
    Because, of course, it was all about him.
    “…and tell her that if it happens again, we won’t be stopping. I’ll have her dragged all the way to the border if I have to.”
    He’d moved close enough that Danika could smell his breath and the stale sweat of a man who’d been in the same clothing for days. Over that, the bitter scent of the bile Annalyse had managed to spew, and, under it all, something pungent in the underbrush that had nothing to do with any of them. The mix of smells combined with the throbbing pain wrapped around her head by the Imperial artifact, caused her stomach to roil in spite of nearly two weeks free of sickness in the morning.
    And it
was
a good delaying tactic, she acknowledged as she threw up on the lieutenant’s boots.

    Tomas remembered the gunner’s wrist in his mouth, tasting salt and blood and gunpowder. Remembered seeing the lit taper fly out of his hand, hearing screams, smelling sulfur…
    He could still smell sulfur and gunpowder and charred wood and flesh and blood and horse and shit and urine and ash. But mostly blood. And meat.
    He blinked. It was darker than he’d expected.
    Although he couldn’t remember what he’d been expecting.
    He blinked again, and stared into the face of the Imperial gunner. The man’s blue eyes were open, he had freckles on both cheeks, and he looked surprised. Dead, but surprised.
    Lips pulled back off his teeth, Tomas tried to move away. His front feet were trapped under the gunner, but his back feet were free.He drew them up tight against his body and pushed, nails scrabbling against wood. They caught the edge of a board. He pushed harder. Felt something give. Jerked his shoulders far enough into the space he’d made to free his front legs.
    The gunner rolled, upper body slamming into Tomas’ shoulder with a squelch of trailing intestines.
    The next thing he knew he stood panting in the sunshine, squinting at the pile of lumber and bodies that had once been a wagon and a gun crew. He scrubbed at his nose with both front paws then, low to the ground, tail close to his body, he circled the pile. Stopped and stared again. The blast radius was…
    Large.
    Beyond the crater, the land bore the marks of the shells that hadn’t merely exploded but had taken off and cut a swath through the lines of infantry, leaving bodies and smoking holes scattered about where the Imperial army had been.
    A voice called out over the moans of the wounded and the buzz of flies. Tomas ignored it.
    Where the Imperial army had been.
    He spun around toward the river. The fighting had moved up into the trees. He could hear the distant sound of weapons.
    A glance at the sky told him it was midmorning, maybe later. How long since he’d left Ryder to take out the weapon and…
    Ryder!
    A wound high on his shoulder sent waves of pain through his body every time his right front foot hit the ground. Didn’t matter. He ran for where he’d seen his brother last.
    He scrambled up the rocky