“Sol was wounded?”
She swallowed at the note of alarm in his voice. She wondered if he knew about Mat. She didn’t want to tell him about Edar.
“Sol is alive,” she said. “He’s on his way to Sulen with one of Emrys’s men. Casrian has the witch cornered in a cave nearby. Emrys’s patrol went to help. Once they kill her, they’ll come here next.”
Asher was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was grim. “They don’t have the witch. Whatever they’ve cornered out there isn’t her. The witch is here in the fort. She brought you here.”
Fuck.
She drew in a shuddering breath. “Well, Casrian is here. He’ll figure it out and he’ll come for us.”
Casrian was alive. He was ruthlessly competent and braver than anyone she’d ever met and… And—dear God—she sounded like Rina singing the virtues of her latest lover.
Was she really so far gone?
No.
This wasCasrian. She knew he wasn’t perfect. He was stubborn and jaded and he liked rules far too much. He never let himself relax, and he seemed to think he was invulnerable. Or he wanted to be. He didn’t let many people close. But he cared. He might fight it. He might try to hide it behind the uniform, but he cared. He wouldn’t leave her here if he knew she was trapped by a witch. Everything else between them might be complicated, but she knew that down to her bones.
He didn’t leave people behind. Not ever.
“Casrian will come for us,” she said, more firmly. “He’ll kill the witch and get us out of here. We just have to be ready when he gets here. Are you hurt?”
She tried to sit up but her stomach gave a nauseating flip. She gagged and hunched over to vomit.
Asher placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her as she dry heaved spit and bile onto the floor.
“I’m not nearly as bad off as you at the moment.” There was a dry note to his voice. “Here lie down, away from that mess. Come on. I’ve got you.”
He helped her to move, only a foot away, but she was panting by the time he settled her back down. She closed her eyes and waited for her stomach to stop doing somersaults.
“Do you think we can get out on our own?”
“No.” There was a finality there that she didn’t like. “You’re in no shape to do anything, and there’s nothing to be done. We’re in an underground cell with no windows. The way out is barred and locked. Even if we could get through… We’re safer in here for now than we would be wandering about her nest.”
“But—”
“You need to rest,” he said, and there was an edge of steel in his tone. “I need you strong enough to survive this. Trust me?”
“All right.”
It was unlike her. Maybe it was the head injury.
Asher sat beside her, his thigh stretched out against her arm. It was nice, that contact. Reassuring in the dark.
“I thought he was dead,” Asher said softly. “When we were attacked in the woods, everything happened so quickly. We chased the familiar into the rot and were lost to it for hours. When the horses started to falter and we stopped, we were miles away from where we started and there was no Cas.” He paused. “Is he truly alive?”
“Why would I lie about it?”
“You’re a voice in the dark,” he said. “You might not even be real. You could be just another trick of the witch.”
That unsettled her. She remembered the shadows in the woods. The woman with dark hair and too pale skin.
Daughter of the wood, you’ve come home.
She shivered. What did the witch want with her anyway?
“Casrian is alive,” she said. “He was wounded. Three gashes across his chest and abdomen. I found him in the woods when I was hunting for deer. He’d dragged himself to the river. I thought he was dead.”
