Vera glanced up at me for only a second before returning to her task—a leafy green plant that was wilting in her hand. But that second was enough for me to read the emotions in her dark brown eyes. She wanted to lie. But she was a terrestrial.
“I am ensuring each plant is at its optimal stage of life.”
Not lying, but certainly avoiding.
“Optimal for what?”
“So that the unique properties of the plant will be at its most powerful.”
Recognition dawned in my memory, a conversation with Arran about the affinities of different flora-gifted terrestrials. “Poisons.”
Despite her hesitation, Vera’s smile was absolutely wicked. “Some of them,” she said. “Others are for speeding healing, beyond even our natural predispositions.”
She held the plant she’d been slowly bringing along through its death and drying aloft for me to see, before curling her fingers around the clump of leaves. She crushed the dried-out leaves in her hand and held them out to me so I could see the gray-green shreds freckling her palm. “This is merely to make Kay’s cooking more palatable.”
“I am a more than adequate cook,” a sharp voice said from the darkness at the edge of the camp. Something about the tenor of it, reprove and annoyance, piqued my instincts.
“Are you two related?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder.
It took me a moment to pick out his outline, even with my sharp eyesight. The darkness of the night had fully descended, even though it was not yet late. I pulled my fur-lined cloak tighter around my shoulders.
“He’s my mother’s elder brother,” Vera confirmed.
“And his husband ismybrother,” Barkke said from the other side of the fire. His eyes, blessedly, were once again closed. “We’re a happy little family.”
A flick of her hand, and Vera held the little plant whose bud was not quite open. “I will slip some of this into your morning tea.”
Barkke appeared thoroughly unbothered. “You would not kill me.”
Vera’s wicked grin returned. “No. But I’d have you shitting yourself for the next two days if it would keep you from running your mouth.”
“You impudent little—”
“Quiet.” I shot to my feet as Kay’s voice sliced through the camp, recognizing the threat at the same moment he did. A low growl filled the air. My head whipped around, checking my companion’s faces—I was not the only one who heard it.
“What is that?” Vera asked softly, eyes scanning the tree line. In the seconds it had taken me to turn and draw my daggers, she’d whipped the bow off of her back and knocked an arrow. A formidable fighter, then, in addition to her talent with poisons.
Lyrena moved soundlessly across the camp, drawn to my side by the invisible rope of loyalty. But her question was to our terrestrial guides. “What sort of beasts are there in these woods?”
“The kind that won’t bother to rip our heads off of our bodies before they eat us,” Barkke answered grimly. I did not need to look over my shoulder to know that he was no longer reclining.
The growling intensified, interrupted by a vicious snarl. It was getting closer.
“Everyone up,” Kay ordered. Superfluous. Maybe it made him feel better.
It certainly did not help me. Dread unspooled in my stomach as the feral growl filled the air around us, pushing into all the corners of my consciousness.
“That is not necessary,” I said.
“Veyka, behind me.” Lyrena did not bother to wait for my compliance, stepping between me and the invisible threat. It would not remain hidden much longer.
“Absolutely not.” I tried to shove her aside, but she held her ground.
“We can argue later, I—”
“Sit back down, Lyrena,” I commanded. Her head whipped back, eyes widening as she saw me sliding my daggers back into the scabbards at my waist. Another snarl rent the air. We had seconds now.
But she did not obey my command. She turned, sword high above her head and ready to strike as the white wolf leapt from the trees into the clearing.
