The girl had gained some much-needed weight since she’d been placed into Daere’s care and her hair was clean, allowing it to softly curl against her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes were watery as she tucked her face against Daere’s neck.
Daere made her way to her bed, noting as the Anateri took up sentinel positions in the corner of the room. “See there,” she said in a soft voice, nodding at the men who watched the room with alert gazes. “The Hawkvale’s Anateri will protect us.”
Mist lifted her head, her tear-stained face taking in the men watching them. The big one in the corner gave her a soft smile as he winked at her.
“But who’s going to protect Shea and Fallon from the bad man and his monsters?” a soft voice asked. Mist’s sad eyes looked up at Daere with a degree of trust Daere hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Not since—Daere shut that thought off before it could fully form.
Daere didn’t let herself respond to the shock of hearing the little girl speak for the first time since Shea had left for the Highlands. She suspected if she made too big a deal of it, Mist would shut down and it might be months before she spoke again.
Instead, she concentrated on what Mist had said. “What bad man, little fox?”
“The one who controls the bad things,” Mist said.
Daere frowned, her thoughts troubled. Mist shouldn’t have known about the beast call, or that Shea and Fallon suspected someone was at the heart of the recent problems with beasts. Perhaps the child had overheard something she shouldn’t have.
Daere wrapped Mist in a hug, rocking her back and forth. “You know what’s so great about those two?”
Mist shook her head.
Daere smiled down at her, the expression sweet. “They are very good at protecting each other.”
Mist watched Daere, her face cautious. “I make you sad.”
Daere’s forehead wrinkled as she gave Mist a confused look. “What do you mean?”
“I remind you of him.” Mist tucked her head back down, nuzzling in. She left Daere staring down at her with a troubled expression.
“Who, little one?” Daere asked.
Mist didn’t respond, already fast asleep.
Daere brushed Mist’s hair from her face in soothing movements, staring into nothing as she thought.
“Has she fallen asleep?” the Anateri who’d winked at Mist asked. His name was Lock.
Daere looked up and nodded at Lock. “She has.”
“We’ll take up our positions outside in that case,” he said, his voice soft so as not to disturb the sleeping child. “I’m sure her nightmare has passed.”
Daere wasn’t. Something about the nightmare struck her as odd, especially Mist’s remarks at the end.
“Thank you,” she said. Before they left, she added, “Oh, if any of Fallon’s men come back with a report, I want to be notified immediately.”
He inclined his head, murmuring, “Of course.”
Sleep was a long time coming for Daere, her thoughts lingered on Mist and her nightmare, and the very odd notion that it hadn’t been a nightmare at all.
*
Shea leaned over the battlements as she watched the Keep beneath her. The wind tugged at her hair and clothes, its strong force buffeting her and whipping hair into her face. It had been several days since their late-night meeting with her parents. For the moment, they were stuck waiting for the next thing to happen.
Her mother needed the time to persuade the council and assemble the boomers they’d promised Fallon.
Meanwhile, Shea was going crazy at the forced inactivity and the nagging sense they weren’t doing enough to prepare. Something was coming. She could feel it in her bones, but they couldn’t go off on hunches and gut instinct. They needed information and intelligence. Until Eamon’s scouting party returned, they were staying put.
Shea propped her chin on her hand, careful to keep her other wrist from bumping into the stone. Chirron had treated the wound the ballyhoo had given her, smearing it with a green paste that stunk before wrapping it in several layers of gauze. It felt better except for the rare occasions she forgot it was injured and knocked it into hard objects.
She stared out over the battlements at the scenery around her. The bridge with the mist on the other side, the mountains in the distance, their purplish, bluish forms jutting sharply from the earth like razor sharp teeth meant to cut the sky.
