Taran runs his hand through his hair, sweeping it out of his eyes. The gesture—warm, like a memory I can’t place—sends a hollow pang through my chest.
“I need your help, Aerona.”
Her gaze shifts to me. She raises an eyebrow before turning back to Taran. “With the queen?”
“You’ve heard?”
She glances at me again, her lips pressing into a frown, then answers Taran in the Tongue. When it’s his turn to speak, he responds in kind.
I bite my lip to hold back my annoyance.Can she see through the glamour, too? Is my humanity that obvious?
So much for being involved. At this rate, it wouldn’t surprise me if they hold their entire planning session at White Spring in the Tongue just to exclude me. How can I be an important part of the plan when I have no idea what’s going on? Taran trusts me, so why can’t they?
Clamping down on my lip, I run my fingers along the wooden wall, as smooth as polished steel, then step toward one of the other rooms to peek inside.
Taran’s voice wavers, then my spine seizes as he cries out, the sound ripping through the air as he crumbles, buckling at the knees.
“Taran!”
His face constricts in pain, the veins in his neck bulging as his eyelids squeeze shut. I rush back, catching him in my arms, but he’sheavy. I struggle beneath his weight until Aerona helps guide him to the floor.
He leans into me, gasping for air. The moment I take his hand, searing pain shoots through me at his vise-like grip, but it’s nothing compared to the panic thundering in my chest.
“Taran? What’s happening?”
He grits his teeth and squeezes so tight my fingers might break.
“You’re hurting me,” I gasp.
He drops my hand in an instant, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. I take his face in my hands and meet the depths of his eyes. An emerald fire blazes within, crackling with an otherworldly energy.
These aren’t the soulful eyes I know. “What can I do?”
A flicker within their radiant swirls. Focus.
His breathing slows, and the fire diminishes. His eyelids flutter shut, and he collapses against the wall.
I turn to Aerona. “What was that?”
She cocks her head to the side, but keeps quiet.
“It was the Land.” Taran’s voice rasps out between breaths. He grimaces as he shifts his weight. “She was in pain. So much pain. I’ve never felt anything like that.”
Aerona frowns. “Whatcould it be?”
Taran ignores her, shaking his head. “We should go.”
He pushes himself up, but stumbles, and I quickly slide under his arm, keeping him upright. He accepts my help, leaning against me until he gets his footing.
Aerona stands, her eyes narrowing as she watches Taran.
He meets her gaze. “You’ll be there?”
She answers in the Tongue, and Taran’s face hardens as she speaks.
“I know,” he says, his voice firm. “Will you be there or not?”
Aerona glares at him. “I will.” Then she opens the door and slams it shut behind us.
