Breathing hard, her heart pounding, she stared up at the night sky. Patches of drifting clouds and a waxing moon. Swathes of twinkling stars. She wasn’t in a woodland. She was on a hillside, lying beside a smoldering fire pit. The outlines of her companions, Shee and Marav alike, surrounded her. Gentle snores rumbled through the air. The Gaulas’s cruel chatter wasmuffled now, as a male voice, soft and sure, carried through the night.
Vyr was taking his turn.
Lara sat up, clutching her thick fur-lined cloak about her.
Not that dream again.
Over the years, it was always the same one. Others blessed with seer abilities received visions that varied. But with her, it was always the same.
Seven crows in a Gods-damned yew tree.
Someone near to me guards a dangerous secret.
She dragged a hand down her face.Shit. Shit. Shit.More betrayal. Just what she needed.
Her dream years earlier had warned of Bree’s treachery, and then a year before, of Alar’s. Both those individuals were with her now, yet she didn’t doubt Bree these days.
Alar had double-crossed her once. He’d do so again without hesitation.
Teeth clenched, she rolled to her feet. Her gaze then searched those slumbering by the fireside. As always, the Shee and the Marav slept apart from each other on opposite sides. Mor slept at the heart of the group, surrounded by her bodyguards.
Alar wasn’t sleeping near the Shee though.
Lara’s gaze skirted her side of the fire.
He wasn’t there either.
Duana and Eithne were curled up together like kittens, while Roth slept next to them; a protective gesture that was endearing. Stepping carefully around where Cailean and Bree slept, wrapped together in the chief-enforcer’s cloak, Lara slipped away from the fire.
“Alar.”
A woman’s voice made Alar turn swiftly, his hand rising instinctively for one of his daggers.
However, it stilled when his gaze settled upon a small figure wrapped in a jade-green fur-lined cloak.
“Lara,” he murmured, dropping his hand. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
In truth, he was surprised to see her. Ever since their ‘conversation’ back in that pinewood, which had ended with her knife at his throat, she’d barely spoken to him.
But here she was.
One look at her, and he could see she was exhausted. Her heart-shaped face was pale and strained, her eyes hollowed. She’d lost weight over the past year, and despite her iron will, there was a fragility about her that hadn’t been there earlier.
His chest tightened.
He was the reason, the cause of her suffering.
He frowned. “Something wrong?”
She lifted her chin, her green eyes narrowing. “I had that dream again” —her voice was sharp with accusation— “the one about the seven crows in a yew tree.”
Alar went still. He knew where this was going. Meanwhile, Vyr’s haunting song rose and fell, muffling the cry of The Gaulas. Mor’s cousin was holding vigil on the western edge of their small camp, while Alar took his turn at watch on the eastern perimeter. “You think I’m keeping secrets again?”
“Aye … you lied to me once, twice should be even easier.”
Alar’s heart kicked. She was wrong there.
“I never lied, Lara,” he said after a pause. Like her, he spoke quietly. They were far enough from the fire pit not to be overheard, and Vyr’s singing and the whispering wind maskedtheir voices. Nonetheless, this wasn’t an argument either of them wanted overheard. “I just didn’t tell you what I was planning. There’s a difference.”
