He’d spent his life as an outcast, accepted by neither Shee nor Marav. The Raven Queen had made a generous gesture, one that would mean everything to a man who’d never belonged anywhere.
But the wind twisted even that moment of sympathy into something darker.Too generous.The warmth in her chest turned to ice. The certainty crept up her spine like frost: Mor had plans for him. Plans that might unite them against her. She could see it now—how easily the Shee might turn on her once she’d served her purpose. How Alar might choose his people over her. Again.
Her breath came shorter, shallower. The boundaries between The Gaulas’s poison and her own thoughts blurred.
“Lara?” Bree’s voice cut through the spiral, and she opened her eyes to find her warder had reined in her cob alongside. Concern etched lines around Bree’s eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Not really,” she ground out, the words scraping her throat raw. Her jaw ached from clenching. “Those voices never let up, do they?”
Bree’s gaze shadowed. “No … but you just withdrew from us again.”
“Aye, and you sometimes stop talking in the midst of sentences,” Cailean added gruffly. As always, Eithne perched behind him, and she watched the High Queen with wide, curious eyes.
A sickly sensation washed over Lara. Of course, her complicated feelings for Alar weren’t her only secret. There was another, one that soured her belly and made her pulse falter. Her fear that she was in the grip of a strange illness.
“Do I?”
Her gaze swept around her companions. One by one, they nodded.
“At least four times since we departed from the Golval Woods,” Roth confirmed, brow furrowed. Duana still rode withhim. Like her sister, she watched Lara, although with a sharp, speculative gaze.
Lara’s heart started to pound in her ears. There wasn’t any point in denying this. It was time to tell them the rest. “I’ve also been losing time.” Confusion flickered over their faces, and so she elaborated. “Half a day will go by, but I have no recollection of it.”
Her gut churned once more, especially when alarm flared in their gazes.
“When did this start?” Annis asked, her tone gentle, like a healer dealing with a skittish patient—one who was in denial about a grave sickness. No one liked to admit The Reaper was standing over them.
“It’s happened occasionally over the past turn of the moon … although more frequently since we began our journey north.”
“That’s worrying, indeed,” Ruari murmured.
“It’s not a secret though, is it?” Roth pointed out, frowning.
“Perhaps not.” Lara looked away, dread dragging at her lungs. “But it indicates there’s something seriously amiss with me, doesn’t it?”
18: THE WRITHING SKY
FINISHING HER LAST mouthful of roast grouse, Lara threw the bone into the fire. The hungry flames devoured it within moments. Her appetite had been poor of late, yet now that food was scarce, it had returned with a vengeance. She could have eaten twice what she had.
The Gaulas whispered and eddied around them. Later, Ren would take her turn at warding their camp, but for now, they’d clustered close around the hearth tonight, for although The Gaulas wasn’t cold, its horrid lament had gotten to them all. Around the fire, everyone’s faces were strained.
She was vaguely aware then that the others were talking. Catching herself, Lara blinked. There it was again. She’d just drifted away. Her pulse fluttered, and she clenched her hands into fists, digging her nails into her palms.Focus!
“We’ll travel the mountain path tomorrow,” Alar announced then, taking a deep draft from a waterskin. “The Hog’s Back is the fastest route to Darkmere. The rough terrain of The Uplands will slow us down as we head north. We likely won’t make it in time for the full moon, if we don’t take this path.” Lowering the skin, Alar met Cailean’s eye across the fire. To Lara’s surprise, the two men shared a long look.
Her pulse quickened. What was that about? Turning her attention to Mor, she found the Shee queen observing Alar, her gaze narrowed. “Have you traveled The Hog’s Back before?” Lara asked her, disconcerted by the glint in the Shee queen’s eyes.
Mor shook her head, cutting her attention to Lara. “We usually move about Albia using barrows.”
“Aye, well … prepare yourself,” Cailean replied, picking up a stick and poking at the fire. “The road across The Goatfells isn’t for the faint-hearted.”
Vyr snorted. “Just as well none of us are cowards then.”
“Are you worried the Lothin will cause us problems?” Roth asked.
“They could,” Alar answered warily. “But they aren’t the only thing to watch out for.”
“If you’re worried about The Hog’s Back, we could take another route?” Lara suggested. His behavior, and Cailean’s too, was starting to unnerve her.
