After some hours, the carriage jolted to a halt so abruptly that Jay hit his head on the wooden frame. For a second there was only the creak of wood and the steady breathing of the animals. Then Jay peered through the gap in the curtain and frowned.
"What happened?" he asked the driver.
The driver pointed ahead. "Up there. Road's blocked."
Jay leaned forward. On the center of the packed dirt track, less than twenty paces away, something, someone, lay on her side, struggling. One arm twisted beneath her, the other clutched at her stomach where dark stains mottled the fabric. Hair matted with blood, she tried to crawl but could only drag herself a line in the dust.
Jay dropped from the carriage without thinking. Yumina followed a step behind, her gaze flat, her steps silent on the road.
Up close, the girl looked wrong and wondrous in the same instant. She had ears tipped like a cat's, lilac fur at the base. Tiny, sharp canines peeked from her lips whenever she gasped. A tail lay limp along the ground, mottled with bruises. Her fingers ended in dark, curved claws. She blinked at Jay with pupils that elongated in fright.
Jay's heartbeat sped. "Driver," he called, "do you have anything to stop the bleeding?"
The driver fumbled in a battered leather satchel. He pulled out a small tin of ointment, a strip of linen, and a flask of cool water. "Use it quick," he said. "Poor lass won't last an hour without treatment."
Yumina crouched a few meters behind him, arms folded, watching. Her gaze slid over the girl like an appraisal. "What is she?" Jay asked, not unkindly.
"Demihuman," the driver said, his voice low. "Half-breeds, mostly. Used to live over in the neighbor country, Avelon. But the human ruler there decreed otherwise, motivating mass persecutions and genocide of the race. Whole villages were driven like cattle. Some fled across the border, but most didn't make it."
Anger tightened Jay's chest. He tore open the tin with shaking fingers and pressed the salve into the girl's wounds. The antiseptic stung. She shrieked, but the bleeding slowed. He wrapped the linen firmly around a deep gash on her thigh and doused her temples with water. She shuddered, then stilled.
Yumina watched the motions like a quiet spectator. "Poor thing," she said finally, though her voice lacked warmth. "Scars on her back. She's been run through before."
A sudden sound made them both look up. Ten meters ahead, a line of figures emerged from the haze. Horses, five or six of them, their riders cloaked in patched leather and dull mail, halted on the roadside. One of the riders dismounted and spat into the dirt, eyeing the demihuman like she was a prize.
Jay straightened. "Who are you?"
The leader, a broad-shouldered man with a knife scabbarded at his hip and a crooked smile, flicked his reins and gave Jay a slow, cruel bow. "Independent adventurers," he answered. "We were tracking some troublesome property that we happened to lose sight of. Looks like we found it."
Jay's stomach dropped. "Property?"
The man gestured with languid politeness toward the prone girl. "The Avelon Council is giving great rewards for those who hand over their lost "animals". She escaped from one of our carriages near the border this morning. She's ours to reclaim."
Yumina's lip curled. "Really? Are there only despicable men in this universe?"
Silence hung awkwardly among the riders, then another of them laughed, a sound without humor. "We could take her now," the leader said. "Hand her over politely and we'll leave you alone."
Jay felt the warmth of anger travel from his hands to his face. He could have walked away, he told himself that, but the girl's breath hitched every time she moved. She'd already been hurt enough.
"No," Jay said, voice steadyer than he felt. "She's not your property. She's under my care now."
The leader barked a laugh. "You think a stranger's authority holds against a squad who's tracked their prey? You got guts. Or you got an empty head." He spat again. "Get off your horse, Ruel." He nodded to a lanky man who dismounted and approached.
Steel scraped. Ruel closed the distance with a club, moving like he expected little resistance. Up close he smirked. "One hit, boy. Keep it easy."
Jay had a dozen things he could have done, sprint for the carriage, shove the girl into safety, shout and try to scare them off. Instead, he did what felt like the only honest thing: he stepped into a fighting stance.