"Then what are our options?" Ran fights down the anxiety in her voice; it won't help. "I can't fight. Most of us, we can't do--"

. . . What exactly had he done? That figure on the horse, coming from his shadow . . .

She wants to ask, but it doesn't feel like the right moment. "We'll slow you down," she finishes, eyebrows knitting. "We shouldn't be here."