I press my lips together, hoping I haven’t said his name out loud. The magic is still tearing through my head, but beyond it, there’s something else now. A thread of warmth, faint but steady, pulsing in time with my heartbeat.
I’m here, Moirthalen.His voice is strained.Hold on.
The mage pauses. His fingers dig harder against my temples, and he probes, searching for the source of whatever he’s sensing.
“What is this?” His voice is sharp. “There’s something?—”
Don’t let him find it. You need to push him out.
How? I don’t know how.
I think of walls again. Stone and iron and thorns. I build them around the thread, around Cairn’s voice, and hold on tight.
The mage’s magic slams against the barrier, and pain explodes through every nerve ending. I scream again, but I don’t let go.
“Impressive.” The mage sounds almost admiring. “You havemore strength than I expected. But it won’t help you.”
He pushes harder. The walls crack. I sob, feeling him getting closer.
Alleria.Cairn’s voice cuts through the chaos.Listen to me. There’s a way to stop this, but you have to trust me.
How?
The magic that’s been weaving around you. The Nightwild Guard. If you accept it, I can reach you. I can help you fight him.
The thread pulses, and I feel it. The magic that’s been curling through me for weeks, waiting. All I have to do is say yes.
What will it do to me?
I don’t know. It won’t kill you, I know that much. But if you don’t, then the mage is going to take everything you are, Moirthalen.
The mage’s magic tears at my walls again. Another crack, followed by another surge of blinding pain.
Alleria … Aethryn. His voice softens on the word.Let me in.
He said if I accept then I’ll be tied to him, bound to the Nightwild Guard forever. I don’t know what that is, not really. And I don’t know what it might cost me.
But I know what it will cost if I don’t.
Therin, Caelum, Vel, Serath. All the humans in the village who hide the fae.
The mage will rip their identities from my mind, and my father will send soldiers to slaughter them all.
Alleria.
The walls are crumbling. I can feel the mage pushing through, his magic cold and relentless, reaching for the memories I’m trying so hard to protect.
I have seconds. Maybe less.
Aethryn, please. Let me in.
FIFTY-ONE
CAIRN
It’s beenthree days of rising with barely any pause to rest. Someone must be carrying a ward, similar to the collar I placed around her throat, becauseI cannot find her.
I’ve felt her through the bond at times. Fear spiking at odd hours. Sometimes I catch glimpses through her eyes. A stretch of road that could be anywhere, someone’s hands hold the reins of the horse she’s on, the back of Brennan’s head when she stares at him every time they make camp.
