“Lachlan,” she tried again, pushing herself to her feet. She needed to break him from his spiraling thoughts. They needed to act fast if there was any hope of saving Ellis.
Ellis.
Just the thought of his name stopped all momentum. Her heart ached, and she wanted to burst into tears. How had this day gone so dismally wrong? They should be at Steward House, starting the Joining Ceremony, becoming husband and wife. But she was here, with Lachlan Davis of all people, andhow had Ellis gotten past the Stones?
She yanked at Lachlan’s arm, jerking him from his tortured reverie. “We need to go. We need to find the Stewards. We need a plan.”
“A plan?” Lachlan repeated slowly, doubtfully. “A plan for what?”
Disbelief colored her laugh “To form a search party. To go after Ellis.”
Even as she said it, Greer knew it wasn’t happening.
Not tonight.
Not until dawn’s rays broke the horizon and the Warding Stones’ hold loosened.
As if hearing her thoughts, Lachlan stepped toward the Stones, dragging Greer along with him. “How did he do it? How did Beaufort do it? Is the boundary gone?” With his free hand, he reached out, feeling at the invisible wall.
Greer shook her head, wincing against the inevitable onslaught. “It’s not, it’s still there, it’s still—”
The wind rose up, hitting them like an explosion of thunder. They were cast back, nothing more than leaves caught in a storm. Lachlan tried again, choosing another spot. Again, the wind howled. Again, they were thrown. Again and again and again and again.
“Stop it!” Greer howled, bruised and bloodied. Every bit of her ached, and she wanted to scream at how stupid he was. “The line is still there. It’s not going to let us through, no matter how many times you run at it!”
“Then how did he do it?” Lachlan snarled, whipping round on her. “I’ve never been able to cross over that damned line, not once in my life, but then fucking Beaufort somehow does it? How?How?”
“I don’t know!” Greer admitted, fighting tears. “You saw it happen. He just…He stepped into the forest. No wind. No barrier. He was just…”
“Gone,” Lachlan supplied the word she would not say.
“Yes.”
He turned back to the forest, fresh horror growing over his face. “Do you supposeitcan cross the line, too? The Bright-Eyed? If Beaufort could, then…”
A shudder ran through Greer.
Lachlan fell to his knees as he struggled to draw breath, finally releasing his hold on her. Greer surprised herself by kneeling beside him. She rubbed circles across his back, recalling how Ailie had so often done this for her, talking Greer through times when the world felt too loud, when all the sounds and noises threatened to rise up and overwhelm her.
“Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth,” she coached. His chest sounded wet and ragged, and he trembled beneath her touch.
“It can’t be, it can’t be,” he whispered, over and over, until the words ran together, bleeding into one long stream of panic.
Greer pressed against his curved frame as she tried to catch his eye, tried to give him something to focus on through the haze of dread. “What? What can’t?”
When he finally looked up, something in his stare made her insides curdle.
“If the Benevolence let that thing go after one of us—even if it was a Beaufort—then Mistaken’s truce must have broken.”
15
It took Greernearly an hour to drag Lachlan out of the Hunting Grounds.
Darkness had claimed the sky, and, without a lantern, navigating their way through the brambled wood was nearly impossible. Lachlan was no help, leaning so heavily against Greer’s side it was a struggle to keep him upright. She wondered if he’d slipped into shock, if seeing a Bright-Eyed had somehow jarred his mind loose.
Finally, Greer spotted the bright dots of dozens of lanterns, lined up just beyond the gate, warming the area and holding back the night. It seemed the entirety of Mistaken was waiting for them.
“I see something!” cried the small voice of a child. “They’re coming! They’re coming!”
