By the time it reaches the square, the whispers have already become accusations. Demon’s influence. Curses. Punishment.
I hear the shouting long before I see the crowd. Ravik Keld’s voice rises above the others.
“Ever since she brought that demon here?—”
I do not need to hear the rest.
The lifeline reacts with Threxian’s restrained irritation somewhere behind me. By dusk the council has made its decision. Footsteps approach my cottage. Lantern light glows along the marsh path like a slow line of fireflies moving toward the door. This again…
Guards.
Inside the cottage I finish packing my satchel with bandages and salves, forcing my hands to remain unwavering despite the quiet knot of fear tightening in my chest.
Threxian watches from near the hearth.
“You are preparing medical supplies,” he observes.
“Yes.”
“Not weapons.”
“I’m a healer.”
“They are coming to cage you.”
“I know.”
He steps closer, the quiet hellish heat of him filling the small space.
“You could still leave.”
“No.”
My voice remains calm, though the bond trembles faintly with the fear I am trying to contain.
“I will face them.”
His gaze sharpens.
“Elowen—”
“I will face them calmly.”
Outside, boots crunch along the gravel path. Lantern light spills across the cottage windows. And despite all my careful breathing, fear coils low in my chest.
18
THREXIAN
The moment the guards step into her home, the tether between us rips with such clarity that the world around me seems to sharpen into unbearable focus. Every sound in the marsh goes silent. The wind stops whispering through the reeds. Even the distant croaking of frogs disappears beneath the sudden pressure of the infernal current roaring awake beneath my skin.
Elowen’s fear floods the bond. Not the disciplined, measured fear she has learned to manage. Not the careful breathing she practiced with me beneath the trees and in the quiet hours of night.
This fear is raw. Cornered. Trapped. Inside the cottage, boots scrape across the wooden floor. The guards speak in low voices meant to sound official, controlled, reasonable.
But the bond does not hear reason. It hears threat. It hears restraint. It hears danger.
I stand in the shadows beyond the marsh path, concealed behind the skeletal branches of the willow trees where no mortal eye can see me. Lantern light spills from the cottage windows intrembling gold streaks, and through them I feel every movement inside as if my own nerves have been threaded through the walls.
