Venna’s body went limp. Larkin’s back and arms cramped from holding her, but she didn’t dare shift her position for fear of sending them both toppling. Venna grew hotter and hotter, her breathing labored.
The world finally shifted from black to gray, allowing Larkin to once again make out the wraiths below, with their cloaks of torn, writhing shadows. Once, she caught sight of a torso covered in mail. Larkin couldn’t see their faces because of their cowls, but occasionally she could make out the gleam of sickly yellow eyes, and there was the ever-present smell of the grave.
With the added light, Larkin was forced to watch as thick black lines crawled up Venna’s dark skin all the way to her thigh. Larkin had never felt so utterly alone or helpless before.
“Are you two still alive?” Alorica called, her voice hollow.
“Yes,” Larkin called back.
“Venna?” Alorica asked.
“She’s alive,” Larkin rasped.
Venna suddenly shifted and groaned in pain. “Larkin, it hurts. It hurts so much.”
Tears welled in Larkin’s eyes and she said the words she’d been wanting to say for hours now, “Thank you for saving my life.”
“Hurts,” Venna managed.
Larkin forced her exhausted arms to hold her friend tighter. “I’m sorry.”
Venna’s head slumped, and she convulsed again. When she finally stopped, her skin was so hot Larkin began sweating despite the chill. Her arms shook, and she could barely link her hands together. Larkin didn’t think she could hold her if she convulsed again.
The wraiths had grown increasingly agitated as the sky continued to lighten. Now, the three of them grouped together, a rasping, shrieking whisper that made Larkin ache to cover her ears. They came toward the tree three abreast, the mantled one in the center slightly ahead of the others. In their fists, their swords gleamed like corrupted smoke. The wraith ran forward, cocking back its arm to launch the sword.
Larkin scrambled to free the amulet from where it was trapped between her and Venna. The wraith screamed—the sound like a death keel, the sword dropping from its fingers. It flickered to shadow and then back to solid form, a white arrow sticking out of its arm. It hissed something, and the other two came at Larkin, their sword arms cocked.
“Wraith!” a voice shouted a challenge.
Larkin knew that voice. Denan sprinted through the trees. Ahead of him, Tam drew back his bow, released another arrow, and struck a wraith as it launched its sword. The arrow struck its neck, and it imploded. Writhing shadows sucked in until there was nothing left.
But the third, smallest wraith released its sword, trailing tendrils of black swirling smoke. Larkin shoved the amulet before Venna and imagined the barrier rising.
The sword struck the barrier with a clang, then fell apart like charcoal. Larkin felt a single moment of triumph before Venna’s whole body seized, going rigid. Larkin tried to hold her, but her strength deserted her. She cried out as Venna fell.
“No!” From the opposite direction of Denan, Talox burst into view from behind a nearby tree. He dropped his bow as he lunged, managing to break Venna’s fall. Rolling her off him, he knelt on the ground. He took in her wound with a sorrow that broke him. He cradled the girl in his arms, his lips against her forehead as he murmured something that almost sounded like a spell.
Beyond him, Tam and Denan fought back-to-back against the two remaining wraiths. The pipers moved like lightning amid boiling clouds in a dance that was both beautiful and deadly, their weapons catching the morning light.
Denan finally managed to strike, his ax sinking into the mantled wraith. Its gaze locked on Larkin as it imploded. The third was harder to kill. It slunk with the shadows. A blow from its sword didn’t even ring against Tam’s shield. Daylight threaded through the trees, striking the shadow. It hissed as smoke rose from it. It backed toward the deeper shadows, sword held defensively before it.
Denan and Tam boxed it in, axes held in the ready position.
“You found her,” the wraith said in an inhuman voice. “My king will be so pleased.”
Larkin stiffened. Her? Her who?
Denan slid closer. “I don’t know what you mean.”
The wraith laughed—a horrible sound. “How many times have we danced this dance, Denan of the White Tree? You cannot kill us. You cannot defeat us. The only remaining option is to join us or die.”
“Go back to your grave where you belong, Hagath,” Tam said in a hard voice.
The wraith’s attention shifted to him. “I will make you one of my playthings, and I will enjoy seeing you beg.”
Playthings? Larkin noticed the curves hidden beneath the wraith’s cloak. The wraith—Hagath—was smaller than the others because she was a woman. Larkin’s mouth fell open in shock. Hagath rushed Denan, her form disintegrating to something ghostlike as she left the shadow’s shelter. Denan caught her blade with his shield, shoved it up and out while stabbing with the pointed tip of his ax. Before his ax connected, the sun crested the horizon, golden light stabbing the wraith. She tipped back her head and screamed as her body burned away to ashes.
Denan whipped around. “Where’s the fourth?” he called up to Larkin.
“Gone,” she answered.
As soon as the words left her lips, Tam ran toward the tree Alorica was in.
Denan’s gaze locked with Larkin’s. She expected anger or disgust. Instead, fear dominated. His shoulders slumped in exhaustion. “You banished one of them?”
“If banishing means it imploded, yes.”
His eyes slipped closed. “The amulet is safe?”
“Yes.” The forest take her, he’d saved her life again. Counting the warning he’d given when she’d escaped, that was the third time.
“Can you come down on your own?”
In answer, she swung her leg over the branch. She tried to dangle from her fingertips to drop to the next one, but her hands gave out. She landed off-balance on the bough and tipped backward, then she was falling. She closed her eyes, too exhausted to flail.
She landed in a pair of arms, knocking the wind from Denan. He managed to keep upright and set her on her feet, where she swayed unsteadily. His hands settled around her waist. Wincing, she backed away from his touch and staggered to Venna’s side. Her friend was unconscious—her skin ashen and her breathing too fast. Talox chanted over her.
Larkin started to push him back—he had no right to touch Venna—but at the tears slipping down his cheeks, Larkin froze. How could he be so upset? He’d only met Venna three days ago.
Denan crouched on the other side of Venna. He pulled down the collar of her dress, revealing angry black lines climbing up her collarbone in jagged, rectangular patterns.
“Oh, Venna,” Denan said, voice heavy with grief.
“You have to help her.” Larkin wiped her nose, throat aching. “There has to be something you can do.”
Denan closed his eyes. “There isn’t.”
That knocked the breath from Larkin. “No! Please, I promised her.”
“I should have left her in that town,” Talox’s voice wavered. “At least she was safe there.”
Larkin shook her head. “Sicknesses can be treated. Even plagues are survivable, and Venna is strong.” Even as she said it, she didn’t quite believe—not with those black lines inching up Venna’s chest.
“Talox,” Denan said gently. “We have to go.”
Talox bowed his head. “I just found her, Denan.”
Denan reached out, resting his forehead against Talox’s. For a moment, they sat that way, bowed together, sharing grief as if they’d done it a hundred times before. Denan pulled back—reluctantly, inexorably, but he did it. One vertebra at a time, he straightened, his expression hardening. When he looked at Larkin, his compassion was gone. “It will take us all day to reach the river. We have to go.”
Tam returned with the three packs, one he’d hastily stitched together with cords of leather. Alorica trailed behind him, arms wrapped
around her tiny waist. She looked haggard, her hair a tangled mess, her cheeks blotchy from crying.
Her eyes widened when she saw Venna, a cry of relief turning to a wail. She ran to the other girl and rested a hand on her forehead, but quickly jerked back. “What’s that on her skin?”
Tam handed the damaged pack to Denan, who strapped it on. “The poison. Once it reaches her eyes . . .” Tam trailed off at a sharp look from Denan.
“Tell me,” Alorica demanded.
Denan held Talox’s pack out to him. “Leave with the others. I’ll catch up.”
Talox’s expression hardened. “No.”
“It’s a kindness,” Denan said.
Talox glared up at Denan. “No!”
Larkin jumped to her feet. “You mean to kill her?”
Denan turned to Tam. “Get the women to the river—now.”
Tam gripped Alorica’s upper arm and then reached for Larkin. She jerked away and stood over Venna. “I’m not going anywhere!”
Denan glared at Tam. “Go now.”
Alorica fought against him. “No! Venna!”
“Talox,” Denan said, voice low. “Tam can’t handle them both by himself. Go.”
When Talox didn’t move, Denan grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him against the tree trunk. He held his forearm against the bigger man’s throat. “I won’t risk Larkin and Alorica’s lives. You will obey orders, or I’ll see to it you’re banished.”
Larkin removed her amulet and bore down. The shield came easily this time, a convex of golden light emanating from her arm. “If you kill her, I will fight you every minute of every day for the rest of my life.”
All three men turned to face Larkin.
“Women’s magic,” Tam whispered, his hands falling slack at his sides. Alorica shrunk back, as if the sight of Larkin frightened her. Talox made a small sound in his throat.
Denan rounded on Larkin, assessing her barrier for weakness. For the first time since she’d been taken, she was afraid of Denan. She lifted the barrier high and bent into a crouch, ready for him to strike.
Talox fell to his knees. “I’ll carry Venna.”
“It’s thirty miles!” Denan said.
From a distance, Larkin heard a roar, the leaves around her shaking. Gilgads. Denan’s head whipped toward the sound, and he went for his bow, nocking an arrow.
“Talox,” Tam said. “You’ve been running all night after being pricked with gilgad venom. The wraiths know our location. They’ll send their . . .” He choked, unable to finish. “You won’t make it.”
“Send their what?” Larkin asked.
The men ignored her. Talox rose to his feet. “Then I don’t make it.”
“Do this, and you’ll face court martial,” Denan said.
“I know.” Talox stood before Larkin, his hands spread palm out. “Let me take her, Larkin. I will see she reaches the river safely.”
Larkin looked into his eyes and saw earnestness and an immense sadness. “You won’t let Denan hurt her?”
“No,” he replied simply.
The fight drained out of Larkin, the amulet slipping to her side and the barrier winking out. She stepped back as Talox gently picked Venna up and swung her over his shoulder.
“What are the wraiths sending?” she asked Denan.
“Something bad.” He turned his back on them. “Tam, range ahead and play the songs to clear away the”—he growled in frustration at being unable to say the word he wanted—“beasts.” He spared a glance back at Larkin and Alorica. “If we don’t reach the river before nightfall, we’re all dead. Fall in.”
Larkin trekked through the forest for hours. Her chest heaved, and she had to fight to make her legs bear her weight. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of another. When her knees buckled, she glanced toward the sun dipping toward the western horizon. Wraiths rising from shadow, infected eyes, smoldering blades. She forced herself to keep going.
Finally, they wove through the last trees, coming onto a dark stretch of rock pockmarked with deep, narrow pools filled with stagnant rainwater. In a former life, she might have peered into the pools coated with moss or examined the porous rock. As it was, she simply stood at the edge of a deep ravine, the river running swift and white far below. The river’s roar came to her; she’d been so exhausted she hadn’t noticed before.
The taste of coin on the back of her tongue, she collapsed into a heap, not sure if she could summon the strength to rise again even if a wraith lunged at her from the shadows. Alorica staggered a little way down and collapsed as well.
Crouching beside Larkin, Denan offered her warm water, which she drank thirstily, and some dried bread that tasted like ashes. He tugged at her bandage. “Let me check—”
She shoved his hand away. “Leave it!”
“I need to check—”
“You would have murdered my friend!”
He gave a frustrated growl. “Killing Venna would have been a kindness. What she will become . . .”
She slapped him, her hand stinging. “Never!”
He reeled back, seeming to understand she meant much more than her letting him tend to her. Jaw tight, he pivoted. He and Tam busied themselves unloading rope from their packs and speaking in low tones.
Larkin watched the unwavering line of trees, as she waited for Talox to come through with Venna, knowing he was racing against the sun and his own body. If her guess was right, he had less than half an hour of light. And Denan had hinted at another danger—something the wraiths would send after them.
“Larkin?” Alorica said, her voice a dry rasp.
Larkin couldn’t look at her. “It’s your fault.” If only she’d listened when Larkin had tried to warn her.
Alorica choked on a sob. “I know.”
Denan and Tam continued to work. Larkin didn’t watch them, didn’t know what they were doing other than that it involved rope and a grappling hook.
Finally, Talox appeared. “They’re hunting us, but they don’t know where we are yet,” he panted to Denan and Tam, who picked up their pace.
“What is hunting us?” Alorica asked.
“Something worse than gilgads,” Tam said.
Larkin forced herself up against her body’s protests. She took the pack from Talox as he set Venna down. With the ravine to her back, Larkin knelt next to her friend, Alorica on the other side, Talox at her head. The jagged black lines had crawled up Venna’s neck to stain her cheeks. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, her skin hot and paper dry.
“Please,” Larkin begged Talox. He sagged, his shoulders shaking in silent sobs. Tears welled in her eyes, the hope dying in her. “There has to be something.”
He looked up at her, unashamed of the tears streaking down his face. “There isn’t.”
Sobbing, Alorica pushed to her feet and staggered away.
Larkin and Talox’s gazes locked. “You care about her.”
“I love her,” he responded.
“You’ve only known her three days!”
“I would have lived or died for her—what is love if not that?”
Larkin stared at him, not knowing what to say.
“Larkin,” Denan called. “Time to cross!”
Larkin looked at the single line of rope running from one side of the ravine to the other. No one could carry Venna across that. “What about Venna?”
“Larkin,” a raspy voice said.
Larkin started and looked down. Venna looked up at her, her irises sickly yellow shot through with red. “Venna?”
“Larkin . . . run.”
Before Larkin could comprehend what Venna meant, black wisps streamed into the whites of her eyes, turning them gray. Her lips pulled back in a snarl. She lunged for Larkin and knocked her onto her back, her head dangling over the precipice.
Acting on pure instinct, Larkin locked her arms and held Venna’s snapping teeth at bay. In her periphery, she was aware of shouting, scrambling movement. Venna wrapped her arms around Larkin’s throa
t and squeezed so hard the world started to go dark, her arms losing their strength.
Venna suddenly disappeared from above her. Larkin rolled to the side, coughing and choking in a breath. She glanced to the side, seeing nothing below her but the distant river. Hands snatched her shoulders and hauled her back. Denan deposited her into a heap a safe distance away. He jerked his ax and shield free and ran toward where Venna had taken a defensive stance before the ravine. Larkin reeled back and staggered to her feet. She shook her head over and over, unable to stop.
With inhuman strength, Venna lunged at Talox. They rolled, Venna somehow ending up on top. He braced his arms and held her back as she gnashed at him. Suddenly, an arrow bloomed from her shoulder. She shrieked, and Talox threw her off. Venna jerked out the arrow, thick black blood oozing from the wound. She held the arrow like a weapon. Her gaze split between the three pipers converging on her, pinning her against the cliff’s edge.
Larkin didn’t understand what was happening. She took a single step toward her friend. “Venna?”
Venna glared at Larkin. “You should have let me die!”
“Larkin, stay back!” Denan cried.
“Venna,” Talox said gently. “You are not yet lost.” Something passed between them—something that looked like regret and loss—but even as Larkin watched, Venna’s eyes went completely black. She dropped into a crouch, teeth bared, hissing like a cornered animal.
“Tam,” Denan commanded. “Put her down!”
Tam lifted his bow but hesitated. Larkin felt paralyzed by what she knew was coming. Venna wasn’t. She threw herself off the cliff, screaming as she fell. Larkin cried out and ran for the edge. Denan intercepted her and wrapped his arm tight around her chest.
“No!” Alorica screamed. “No!” Tam reached for her, but she shoved him back. “How could you do that? How could you hurt her?”
Tam flinched. “She would have killed Talox!”
She beat at him with her fists, and he let her. “I don’t care about Talox!”
Talox sank to his knees. Larkin threw an elbow into Denan and broke free. She looked down the sheer drop-off, the updraft blowing back her hair. She peered downriver, searching for any sign of Venna. Nothing. Denan came to stand beside her, not touching her, but tense as if he expected her to jump.