Mor had chained Dorka to a tree a few yards away so that she could scratch. The clag-doo’s claws grew constantly, and she needed to blunt them often. Now fresh scratches marred the pine’s trunk, oozing sap. Dorka watched them. Her eyes glowed in the firelight, and her tail twitched. After Alar’s departure, the Raven Queen had spent time, as usual, trying to gentle herpet. However, Dorka had merely spat and hissed at her.
“Are you well, Lara?” Bree whispered then, leaning close.
Lara stiffened. “Aye. Why?”
“When we were talking earlier, you just sat there, staring into the fire. It was as if you’d left us.”
Lara blinked. She didn’t remember blanking, although this wasn’t the first time one of her companions had made such an observation. Her pulse quickened then, a sickly sensation stirring in her gut. This was happening too frequently now to ignore it. Somethingwaswrong with her.
“We must be patient.” Mor’s voice intruded then. Reaching up, she stroked Eagal’s soft feathers. The raven roosted on her shoulder, eyes closed. “He needs time to think it over.”
Next to her, Vyr huffed. “He doesn’thavetime. We can’t linger here. After things soured with the Circines, their chieftain might decide to have his reckoning with you … or he might just take the opportunity to bring down two queens with one stone.”
Mor pulled a face before casting her cousin an irritated look.
“What happened with the Circines?” Lara asked.
“I made a deal with them … and they broke it,” Mor replied.
“They didn’t want to wait five years to get the territory they’d been promised,” Vyr added. Firelight played over his handsome face, the silver half-moon on one earlobe glinting. “You Marav are impatient.”
“Can you blame us? We don’t have centuries to play with like you do,” Roth replied.
Vyr shrugged, giving him that.
Lara dug her stick into the embers once more, sending up a spray of sparks. She too was nervous waiting here. If the Circines and wulvers attacked, they didn’t have the resources to face them. They’d have to flee into the night instead, leaving Alar behind. And since they couldn’t perform the binding without him, they wouldn’t be traveling to The Shattered Crown. Instead, she’d have to return to Duncrag, knowing that she’d failed her people.
The spirits plaguing them would grow in number, and the world would grow dark indeed.
Her pulse quickened.
Gods. She hoped she hadn’t ruined everything.
Her gaze traveled around the fireside then, taking in the faces of their small band. The Shee all looked tense, their gazes wary, whereas Cailean and Roth wore deep frowns. However, when her attention shifted to Annis, Lara stilled.
The counselor’s face had gone slack. Her dark eyes were glassy as she stared off at a point behind Lara’s shoulder. Lara observed her for a moment, wondering if that was whatshelooked like when she drifted away.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled then. She hadn’t been herself of late, but Annis was usually as sharp as a boning knife. Something was wrong.
Tensing, she twisted.
A light in the darkness winked back at her.
Lara’s breathing caught.
The golden light flickered. A heartbeat later, another appeared a few feet away from the first. Flames dancing.
Corpse candles.
And as she had a year earlier, she felt their pull.Follow me.
But this time, the urge didn’t overwhelm her. Warmth suffused her chest. It was like seeing old friends.
“Annis?” Ren’s voice drew her attention back to the fire. “Where are you going?”
Indeed, the older woman had just lurched to her feet and was stumbling away.
Lara motioned to Roth. “Stop her!”
