“There are a few materials for healing inside here. Come,” I reassure.
He sucks his teeth. “Thank you.”
They make quick work of climbing.
“The fires still burn, reducing what is left of those damned quarters to ash,” El Lobo begins. “Many were lost in the attack on the barracks. But many more giants are gone, thanks to your idea."
We climb back down, and I brush the snow and splinters from my pants.
When I turn, El Lobo shakes his fist to the sky. "The bastards thought they would squash us like a bug, and we went straight for their throat. May Khuohr forsake them in the afterlife for their weakness!"
I laugh at his exuberance. My own gods are a pair of powerful, righteous deities. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to be cast out of our afterlife, Vidalena, for the ache would be too great to tell. To be separated from my Enduar family would be a fate worse than death.
After a moment, I change the subject and ask, “Do you need help in the city?”
“No. Even after the purges, we are still outnumbered by the giant warriors, three to one. This is not a battle that will be easily won, and we need to start mobilizing to escape.”
“Right you are,” I respond.
He walks at my side, closer to the groups of men practicing their knife skills.
“Otherwise, we will be a bunch of humans lost in the forests, waiting for the giants, wolves, and whatever creatures lurk between the trees to pick us off,” he says with a laugh.
I hum in agreement as we walk back to the pile of supplies that the humans had gathered before sending the women off with my Melisa.
“We have already sent humans to the old meeting place. They won’t be safe there for long.”
El Lobo shakes his head. “No, they won’t.”
“However, we could spare a few men, they could start the journey to the Enduar Mountains early,” I say. I observe his expression—no one save Melisa has explicitly told me they wanted to go there. Their eagerness for a human queen has caused me to assume it, but I do not wish to take anyone who does not want to go.
The men before me are silent for a long moment. El Lobo’s jaw tenses and releases several times. I take a deep breath, counting the seconds before he opens his mouth.
“That is wise. We will consider such things—but we won’t be able to get them out for a few days,” he says decidedly.
“Excellent,” I say measuredly. “Thank you for the barracks. No giants came to change guard this morning, and we spent the time gathering anything we could find. Food, tools, supplies, and the like. Some of it is piled up there, where you’ll find herbs and bandages.” I gesture to a large pile of tools.
Honestly, I don’t know how the men found so much since the tools I used in the lumber yards were always carefully monitored.
The one with the burns thanks me and rummages through for bandages to bind his wounds.
“Any new clothes?” one of the men with El Lobo asks.
I point at one of the men passing by, a few blankets in his arms.
“You!” I call. “Where are the other supplies?”
The man visibly flinches as I call to him. He nods meekly and then points to a house on the far wall. I thank him and take the rebellion leader over with me.
El Lobo is silent as he inspects everything.
I look at the pitiful piles of things stacked up—holed blankets, meager clothes, buckets, and large stretches of oiled fabric. Tent canvas, I realize.
No food, but hollowed gourds for water. My heart races. How the hell will we survive a week of walking and camping with this?
The men at my side aren’t so easily discouraged.
“This is an excellent start,” El Lobo says. Then he turns to me, graying hair looking like strands of silver in the weak light. The curve of his spine looks less noticeable, but there is still a slight limp to his step.