Leo walked with Reuth through a small orchard. They were alone; Marth had seen to it. “Be warned,” he’d cautioned Leo.

Reuth, looking surprised to even be introduced to the newcomer so soon, had turned to Leo. “What was that about?”

“You’ll understand after we’ve spoken,” he had said cryptically and then proceeded to ask her a number of questions about her life, her loyalties, and most importantly, her despairs and dreams. Satisfied that Marth had been correct to mention her as a potential ally, he had told her his story.

As it had unfolded and mid-morning had passed through midday well into the afternoon, Reuth had become pale. Even the few questions she’d asked began to give way to a stunned silence as the gravity of what she was learning began to sink in.

After Leo had finished with his reason for being in Barronel, he’d given her time to digest everything.

He felt the silence between them become pensive.

“How can I trust this?” she whispered.

“Why else would I give myself up to the authorities?”

“I don’t know—I certainly can’t understand willing incarceration!” she snapped.

“I’m offering you a chance to fight back, Reuth.”

“I don’t see how one man—exiled king or not—can make a difference.” She turned away. “We are not soldiers or fighters; we have no weapons—”

“You have magic,” he insisted.

Reuth swung back. “Yes . . . some people can actually make the plants grow faster, others can predict the rain, or talk backward, or have an impossibly amazing memory that cannot be tripped up. I know someone here who can make a ladle stir a pot without having to lift a finger—although she has to then recover for more than a day from the headache it provokes. I can see just how jolly useful stirring pots and making plants grow can be when it comes to overthrowing a tyrant with a powerful army and the majority of support from the very people he has cowed!”

Leo stared at her. The deep breaths she was taking revealed just how helpless she felt, nor could her stinging words disguise the passion she tried so hard to cover. Oh yes, Reuth wanted revenge all right . . . and he had the means to give her that revenge.

He smiled. “It would take only one of you . . . if I can find the right person.”

She looked at him as though he had lost his mind. “What are you talking about? One of us?”

Leo nodded. “A very particular person. Vested, secretive, probably unassuming; in fact the least obvious person you could imagine may well be the most powerfully endowed person in this camp.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, but Leo could see her desperation to believe in him, to nibble from the carrot he seemed to be enjoying dangling before her.

Before anything more could be said, Marth found them again.

“Well?” Leo said.

“It is all as you promised.”

“Do you believe me?”

“Have I a choice?”

Leo impaled the man with a steely glare. “Do you think I’m lying about anything I’ve told you?”

Marth shook his head without hesitation. “I am with you.”

Leo nodded once. “Thank you.” He turned back to Reuth. “Now,” he began more gently. “I know you don’t understand because I haven’t explained it fully. Have you heard of the aegis magic, Reuth?”

Her frown deepened. “No.”

“Then let me explain.”

Later, when Leo finally paused, Reuth looked even more dumbfounded than she had earlier.

“How do you know it works?”

“I’ve watched its effect on an aegis and a Valisar.”

“Which Valisar? There aren’t any alive except you or your adopted brother.”

Leo hesitated, covering his error with a blink. “I meant me.” He cleared his throat and moved quickly on. “I had an aegis within my grasp just a day or so ago. I—”

“Then why didn’t you—what was the word?”

“Trammel?” he offered patiently.

“Yes. Why didn’t you trammel that Vested, seeing as you are old enough, look strong enough, felt secure enough and clearly don’t lack for arrogance.”

“Careful, Reuth,” Marth counseled. “You’re talking to the Valisar king.”

Reuth laughed. “And look how scared I am! Besides, he is not a king, he is a man who believes he has the right to claim kingship. The last I took notice we were living under an emperor.” She turned to Leo. “I didn’t even have the chance to hug my husband farewell. While you were safely hidden he was dragged from my side and unceremoniously slaughtered in some dingy outhouse of your palace by Stracker and his thugs. Don’t talk to me about respect for the Valisar throne. You Valisars did nothing; nothing to save the other realms and nothing to save your own! Your father let all of us take the consequences of his inaction.”

She poked Leo in the chest, unafraid. “In the early days I cared about the Valisar name. Really I did. But since I’ve lost my second husband, since my children and I were transferred here, treated as prisoners, I’ve come to believe that it doesn’t matter who is ruling when no one is looking out for the helpless. And I am helpless, as are most of us Vested. My ability to predict the weather accurately has been enough to have me incarcerated and tattoed, my children growing up as prisoners in a downtrodden camp of people who have no use until an upstart comes through with a claim on the throne and a grand idea to use one of us to further his own importance.” She spat on the ground and then impaled him with a glare. “Why didn’t you grab hold of your own sorcerer the other day?”

Leo felt as though he’d just been chastised like a child getting his letters or numbers wrong. This older woman wasn’t at all impressed or in awe of him or his title or his pedigree. He felt his cheeks burn with humiliation as he realized that no one would take him seriously until he stopped believing that everyone owed him their fealty.

Freath had tried to explain it, Kilt had angrily told him much the same and then Gavriel—his most loyal friend, someone who considered Leo’s safety more important than his own—had conveyed the identical message. It was time now for honesty with himself, he realized; time for him to really behave as a king should. He knew his mother would want him to lead by example and his father would expect him to brutally take control and prove his leadership skills, not simply expect people to follow because of his name, or his bloodline. But Brennus would tell Leo that he must be cunning. And so Leo told himself that so long as he convinced people of his sincerity, he was giving them what they wanted while at the same time achieving what needed to be done . . . for the good of the Valisar throne.

He looked down, striking a humble tone. “I wasn’t quick enough, Reuth. I have been outwitted at every turn. An aegis is constantly hiding his or her magic; they’ve spent a lifetime concealing the truth. I don’t know what I’m doing; I don’t recall my father ever seeking his aegis and so I have no experience with this whole notion of magic. I don’t even know if this trammeling can work but I’ll be damned if I’ll just grow old in the forest, hiding from the soldiers, forgiving myself my fear of declaring myself. Better to die on the end of the blade fighting for my birthright than to fade away an old man who spent his life wondering.”

Marth shifted uncomfortably where he stood; Leo sensed he had the general on his side. But it seemed Reuth wasn’t ready to give up fighting back yet.

“Why haven’t you tried any earlier?” she demanded. “You speak as though you have wanted revenge against Loethar since the day of his arrival into Penraven.”

“I have,” Leo said quietly, recalling how Loethar used a soft voice to intimidate. It worked; she bit back on whatever retort sprang to her mind. “But I was a child for the first five anni and the last five have been spent maturing, finding the right moment to strike.” He was pleased with that; it sounded not only reasonable but almost like an admonishment.

“And this is it?” she asked and he saw a glitter in her eye that told him Reuth simply needed a worthy, reliable excuse to help attempt a coup.

He nodded. “This is it,” he answered gravely. “I happen to know that Loethar is under siege.” He held up a hand to stop more questions. “Forgive me, I have no time to explain everything, Reuth. In this you must trust me. I know that Loethar is on the run.”

“Stracker,” she breathed. It was not a question but Leo answered as though it was.

“Yes, his half-brother has taken over the rule of the empire. No one has realized it yet but by the time they do it could be too late. Now, during these days of confusion, while Stracker is keen to keep the compasses peaceful while he shores up his allies, it is the perfect time for any loyalist of the Valisar throne to strike. He will not expect it.”

“But what makes you think we have the solution . . . here, in sleepy Barronel?”

“I can’t be sure you do but I had to start somewhere. If Loethar has spent the last decade rounding up everyone Vested, there’s a good chance that I’ll find an aegis here.”

Reuth looked between the two men, astonished. “And now I see you trust him,” she said, cocking her head toward Marth.

“I do,” Marth replied. “Are you going to help, Reuth? No one here knows the Vested better than you. You’ve made it your business to know everyone, be trusted by everyone . . .”

“Even you,” she said harshly.

He nodded. “And I have never treated you badly.”

She looked back at Leo. “What am I looking for?”

He gave a mirthless smile. “Therein lies the key. I don’t know because an aegis, whomever he or she is, will cover his or her tracks so well as to be almost invisible. But if I were an aegis I would probably live alone, certainly quietly. I would prevent people from getting to know me terribly well.” He shrugged. “That way I wouldn’t let anything slip about the very topic that I’m working so hard to keep secret. Remember, the aegis spends his or her life protecting this secret, always on guard. So perhaps someone who is hard to penetrate or read, someone who shrugs off his or her magical talent, playing it down as not being magical, simply a learned skill.”

He paused. Reuth was nodding. “Unfriendly, withdrawn, quiet,” she recited. “Most likely a man?”

He shook his head. “No. Neither man nor woman is more likely. It could be you, Reuth, or it could be that young lad over there stealing pears from the orchard.”

“How many of these people are there?” Marth asked.

Leo shrugged. “Perhaps three,” he said carefully, avoiding the truth.

“One for you,” Reuth counted. She looked at him, baffled, clearly unable to go on.

“Another for my father,” he continued without hesitation. “My father didn’t trammel an aegis so his, whoever it is, lives on quietly. And the same goes for my sister.”

“The princess who died . . . of course,” she replied sadly. “So an aegis was born for her too.”

“Yes.” Leo was glad he didn’t have to mention about Loethar or Piven.

Reuth seemed lost in her thoughts. “I was taken into Brighthelm the day your sister was cremated. It was the same day my husband was murdered.”

Leo’s breath caught in his throat. “The day my sister was cremated was the very day I first felt the presence of an aegis. I didn’t know it at the time and I was young, frightened, but I’ve felt the sensation again since, but not nearly as strong as on that occasion.”

Reuth looked at him quizzically. “And you’d not felt it previously around the palace?”

“Never.”

“Well, to my knowledge there was only one largish group of Vested who were brought into Brighthelm that day.”

His hopes flared. “What can you tell me?” he urged.

“That plenty more than half disappeared almost immediately. And who knows how many of that big group were slaughtered within moments of their arrival.” He watched her purse her lips as she reined in her emotion.

“I am sorry about your husband, Reuth . . . about both of them.”

She moved on. “The rest of us were taken to a holding room in the palace proper and that’s where we met Freath. When he chose Kirin and Clovis as his helpers, we all thought we were going to be killed. Freath was so sinister. But as it turned out I judged him badly. The rest of us were to be killed but he found a way to save us . . . all eight remaining.” She sighed. “Clovis is now dead, of course.”

“As are Freath and Kirin Felt, I’m sorry to tell you.”

She didn’t look surprised. “They were living in the eye of the storm. I’m surprised they lasted as long as they did; Freath in particular, working as he did daily under the eye of the dragon who created the storm. He was an amazing man, Freath was; such courage, such tenacity. I owe my life to him and he gave Clovis and myself a chance to find happiness again.”

Leo swallowed. He begged inwardly that she would not ask how Freath had perished. He would have to skirt the truth if she did. “Of the eight, are any of them here?” he asked, hoping to draw her attention away from Freath.

She nodded. “Yes. Three, in fact. Tolt, Perl and Hedray. All have valid but fairly curious skills. Hedray can communicate with the animals, Perl reads the runes—very rarely now though—and Tolt can dream future events although less as he’s aged. Hedray does not fit your criteria. She is friendly and very much part of the fabric of the Vested community. She married another Vested but he died last year. They have several children. I know her too well, know her background, have seen no sign of the caution you suggest she might show.”

He shrugged. “That gregariousness could be her disguise, of course,” he warned. “My criteria was based on guesswork but there’s no telling how someone would choose to hide; sometimes out in the open is the most effective. What of Tolt and Perl?”

“Perl is twenty and five summers. She’s quiet and yes, I would agree withdrawn but then so are many other Vested I could name. With me she is more than friendly enough and we are close. I like her very much but, as I say, others find her awkward.”

Leo didn’t think anything Reuth had said about the woman was particularly inspiring although Perl intrigued him. “She reads the runes, you say?”

Reuth shrugged. “So accurately it’s chilling. She has no reason to do so here . . . and in fact now refuses unless a soldier will pay her to. She donates the money to the good of the Vested. That is her saving grace, and why people haven’t entirely cut her off.”

“All right. Tell me about Tolt.”

Reuth took another big breath. “Tolt is a year or so younger than she is. How old are you?”

“Twenty and three anni,” he replied.

“Then you and he are the same age.”

Leo leaned forward, intent on her words; this was sounding more promising. “Go on.”

“His visions come through dreams; nightmares, to tell the truth, for they are never happy. He has accurately foretold a pestilence that took a flock of sheep, one of our Vested dying from a seemingly harmless fall, that sort of thing. The older he has become, the more withdrawn he is and the fewer visions he has. In fact, I don’t remember when I last heard Tolt’s voice, and he used to be such a sunny youngster. Now he nods or shakes his head. He lives alone very much on the rim of the camp. He has no friends to speak of. I make sure he eats properly and I generally keep an eye on him but otherwise he wants nothing to do with any of us. He tolerates my intrusions, but no more.”

Marth nodded. “I know which lad you mean. Tall, scrawny fellow who scowls a lot.”

“Mmm, yes, that sounds like Tolt,” she admitted.

“And he certainly fits,” Leo said, determined not to rule anyone out. “Can I meet him?”

“Why not?” she replied. “I suppose you’ll know soon enough if he is whom you seek.”

Leo fought to control his eager expression. “Reuth, it’s highly unlikely but if he is an aegis, you did understand what I told you earlier today about the bonding process, didn’t you?”

She looked down. “Let’s worry about that, your highness, when you know for sure that Tolt is who you seek. Until then, this is all just idle conversation between two prisoners and their keeper.”

He gave her a reassuring nod, thrilled by the breakthrough with her. She had accepted him; he could see it in the set of her mouth and the glimmer in her eyes. She wanted the aegis almost as much as he did. Reuth Barrow had revenge in her heart and she was going to use a Valisar king to achieve it.

Kilt had strolled the surrounding fields deep in thought; he’d sat for what felt an age in a small gully, watching water from the mountains make its way down. He’d lain in the grass and leaned against a tree. All the while he’d turned the same question over repeatedly in his mind. He didn’t think he had a choice but he was desperate to find an excuse, a way beyond what appeared to be the obvious. If anyone could find it, he could.

He’d come north to the convent hoping to find an escape from the Valisar magic but all he’d found was entrapment. And he’d lost Lily; he knew that now.

What he’d seen in the blind eyes of Kirin Felt had looked like love and what he’d heard in that poor fellow’s voice had sounded like love. He didn’t think he’d ever looked at Lily or spoken to her in that way. Or any woman, for that matter. He had known many women, slept with many women, been affectionate to perhaps far too many, and flirted shamelessly with all women, but the truth he realized was that he had loved none.

Love was a luxury he had never believed he could afford—not with the dark secret he carried in his life. The closest he had come was surely with Lily but he knew she had never felt loved and that was guilt he deserved. Perhaps the love he would only ever know was the love of his mother and that of a friend. Jewd loved him, that he knew.

Just as he was thinking how good it was to feel well again he felt his bile rise and his heart began to pound. His head snapped up as he instinctively searched for her. There she was, sitting down on the other side of the brook, far enough away that he could barely make out her features.

“Please . . .” he called out, his hands out as if to shield himself. Even he could hear a plea in his voice he had never heard before.

“No further,” she said. “I promise. I just want to talk, that’s all. How are you feeling?”

A Valisar who cared. He gave a lopsided grin. “I’ve had much better days,” he admitted.

He watched her smile gently. “I’m really sorry about coming here. It was not my idea. Corbel said I should talk with you. He said he thinks you need to know me.” She shrugged, looked embarrassed. “I’m not sure what it can achieve.”

She had a nice voice. She was still young, perhaps just into her third decade but nevertheless far older than she should be. In his estimation Leo’s sister should be ten anni. He regarded her and she didn’t seem to mind the silence; she was not tall from what he could tell and she was slim. Her hair was tied back but he’d wager if it were loose it would be that slippery shiny hair he adored in a woman. And it was dark, almost black like her father’s. Instantly he felt a stab of guilt on behalf of Lily, who had thick, coarser hair that turned wavy the longer it was allowed to grow.

“If I told you about myself you might understand that I am feeling as frightened and as confused as perhaps you do,” she offered.

He nodded. “Tell me about your life,” he said, liking that despite her claim to fearfulness she was direct, her voice clear and calm.

“All right.” She looked down, seemed to gather her thoughts. “I grew up feeling lonely . . .” she began.

And as she continued Kilt was soothed by her even tone, impressed by her candor. Her sorrows and sense of dislocation resonated strongly with his own.

“The hospital became my haven and the quiet man I knew as Reg,” she gave a soft shrug, “Corbel de Vis, I mean, became my anchor. He made me feel steady and safe. The hospital and my one friend—they were my life.”

He didn’t interrupt as he listened, falling deeper and deeper under her spell. As her story continued he realized that Princess Genevieve was every bit a victim of the Valisar curse as he was.

Tolt refused to come to him but Leo only had to clap eyes on the young man, working quietly at his labors, to know that this fellow had no connection to the Valisars. He looked at Reuth and gave a soft shake of his head. While her expression didn’t change, the set of her shoulders drooped, telling him she was every bit as disappointed as he must appear.

She muttered something to Marth, who in turn urged forward the two men they had decided to bring in on the plot. Leo had been firmly against expanding his secret’s reach but Reuth and Marth had held firm to the belief that should one of these Vested prove to be the one he sought then they would surely need restraining beyond what the three of them could provide. And Leo had to agree. Going by Kilt’s reaction alone, there was a good chance his aegis would make a dash for freedom or fight them to the end.

It seemed Marth and Reuth were taking his idea seriously; his arrival and his challenge had obviously spoken loudly to their deep-seated hatred of the barbarians and their long disguised passion to strike back. He, on the other hand, held out little hope now that he would find his aegis here and he moved with a slightly heavier heart, following Reuth to where she said they would find the young recluse called Perl.

“She’s on the other side of the encampment,” Reuth warned. “It’s a bit of a hike.”

Leo shrugged and turned to Marth. As he was about to speak, a sensation he had not felt since he was a twelve-anni-old youth reached its tendrils around his gut and squeezed.

He stopped dead; took a steadying breath. This felt utterly unlike what he’d felt with Kilt, Greven and Roddy. In truth his response to being in their midst had been virtually silent, certainly invisible; he’d had no physical reaction to them at all even though Kilt had admitted he had always felt repulsed in his company.

But this! It was euphoric. And very powerful.

“What’s wrong?” It was Reuth and he realized she’d been shaking his arm.

Leo began to retreat.

“Where are you going?” Marth asked, expressing a look and tone of concern to match Reuth’s.

Four steps back and the feeling of euphoria subsided. Leo let out his breath, his face breaking into a hard, tight smile. “I’ve found my aegis,” he uttered.

Questions fell from his companions but he ignored them, asking his own. “It’s her. It’s the woman Perl. How far are we from where she lives?”

Reuth stopped her gabbling. “We’re now about four perhaps five hundred steps from her tiny half cottage.”

He nodded. “Then she already knows. She might be already preparing to flee. You had better get over there,” he said to Reuth and Marth, whose faces were identical studies of confusion. “Reuth, you go in alone. She trusts you. Calm her. You must stall her while I think this through. Hurry ahead.”

“But how do you know it’s her?” Reuth persisted.

“You are going to have to trust me and the Valisar magic. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by doing so. But you’re also going to have to convince her to make the sacrifice. I’m sure you can be very persuasive, given that this is your dream coming true. I promise you, Reuth, Marth, with Perl’s help, you will be able to take your revenge. Now go. Do not let her escape.”

And Reuth was running, Marth following at a safe distance with his minders in tow. Leo did not hurry. He needed to stay back, well out of the magic’s sensitive reach, until he knew Perl was fully captive.

They had been sitting for so long he was sure her backside was as numb as his but neither moved. Her voice was beginning to lose its smoothness, was sounding vaguely gritty from her long period of storytelling, but still he was anchored to it.

“In pain, aren’t you?” she said. “And that troubles me. I’m a doctor, after all.” She stopped, looked up from where she had been fiddling with the grass between her boots.

It was the pause he heard before the question filtered through the layers of thought, mesmiration, lull of false security, and joy and fear of her presence. “Pardon?”

She shrugged. “I’m a healer of pain, not a bringer of it.”

“If it’s any consolation, it is a rapturous pain.”

Evie grinned. “Like an orgasm,” she said, sounding embarrassed.

“What’s that?”

“Well,” she started slowly, reassuming her physician’s countenance, “during sex, either or both partners may experience a euphoric rush of sensation that—”

He began to laugh. “I know what it is, your majesty, I just wanted to know if you did.”

She gasped and gave him a look of pure murder rimmed with embarrassed amusement too, standing and surging forward as she did so. “You sod!” she said, uselessly flinging the grass in her hand at him.

He too stood, laughing, but then doubled over. “Oh, no closer, highness. That magical orgasmic feeling isn’t nearly as much fun as the physical.”

She stuffed her hands into her skirt pockets and stepped back a few yards. “I wouldn’t know.”

He blinked. “But from what I can see you are beautiful. What do you mean, you wouldn’t know?”

“Kilt—may I call you that?”

“You may.”

“Well, Kilt, where I come from we aren’t all married off or pregnant or indeed even eligible for either by the time womanhood first shows its signs of emerging. Women choose when they will lose their virginity. Some of us wait.”

“For what?”

“To find the right person who is worth giving it up to.”

Kilt hesitated. “Are you talking about falling in love?”

She shrugged. “Yes. Although, not necessarily with the person you might want to spend the rest of your life with but most women want to feel very fond, even be in love, for their first time.”

“That’s quaint.”

“Are you making fun of me again?”

“I’m not sure. You seem so awkward and embarrassed about something so natural. Men and women fu—”

She cleared her throat, interrupting him. “That’s such a typical man’s response. It’s the perfect excuse.”

“Really?”

She shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know. My whole world is upside down, Kilt. I don’t know what I’m doing here or why you have to feel pain when you’re near me, or why I am so strongly attracted to you.”

“Attracted to me. That’s such a gracious way to say it. It’s more like compulsion. But that’s the magic at work.”

“Is it?”

He stared at her. “I . . .” He hesitated, his gaze narrowing. “I’m not sure what you mean, majesty.”

She sighed. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, looking around. “There is no getting away from, the fact that I am drawn helplessly to you and you to me. I am resisting the urge to leap over this waterway and . . .”

“And what? Eat me?”

She made a groaning sound. “No! Maybe. Corbel told me some ridiculous—no, outrageous—and hideous tale about how I must bond you.”

“He is right. Every fiber of your body must want me.”

She laughed. “Now where I come from that sort of line would get your face slapped.”

He grinned. “I mean—”

“I know what you mean. It’s true, but I have a much higher threshold of resistance than people are giving me credit for. I will not be ruled by a magic. I refuse to capitulate to it. I will show it that I am in charge of it and not the other way around.”

“Do you feel sick?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s more of a hunger . . . a pang. If you got up now and walked away I would feel an intense desire to hunt you.”

He nodded. “That is its way; how I’ve always imagined it must feel to be Valisar. For me it is similar and yet somehow opposite. I am drawn to you but the feeling, though one of rapture, is mixed with fear and loathing. And the pain is intense and yet I can’t help myself. We are far enough away . . . just . . . that I have a smidge of resistance. I have exercised control over your brother and your uncle but they are merely men,” he said with feigned condescension. “They can’t hold a candle to your power.”

“Why is that? Chance?”

“Not chance,” he said, smiling crookedly. “Fate perhaps. Obviously no one has explained much about your magic to you.”

She shook her head sadly. “I’ve lived oblivious for nearly twenty-one years . . . er, anni, I gather I’m supposed to say.”

“Then let me educate you swiftly and concisely.”

She smiled and although he couldn’t see her eyes, he felt the radiance and kindness in her gaze.

“So,” he began, “let us sit down again on our respective banks.” He did so and watched as she followed suit. “I shall tell you everything I know about you Valisars—and especially the female power—and as much as I can about myself.”

She lay back, gazed up at the sky and listened as Kilt began a story he admitted he had never told anyone in its entirety before.

Perl had been shelling peas when she sensed it. She cried out and doubled over as what felt to be her very spirit surged out, seeking, questing . . . and finding. She felt pulled in different directions—an overwhelming desire to race toward the source of that joy and the compulsion to run as fast as she could away from it, away from the feelings of dizziness and nausea that had since followed.

When she straightened, breathing heavily, everything was normal and that previous stark sensation had dissipated; she waited, not sure of what she was waiting for. There was no sound but her breathing and the birds squabbling outside. She had begun to doubt that the sensation occurred at all when she heard Reuth calling from the front door.

“Perl? Are you home?” came the familiar voice.

“Where else?” she replied, relieved that she was not alone any longer.

“Ah, there you are. Goodness me, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Everything all right?”

Did she detect a false note in Reuth’s voice?

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

Reuth took her hand. That was unusual.

“Are you sure?” the older woman continued. “Because you look a bit peaky to me.”

“I . . . I did feel a bit faint a moment ago but I always forget to eat when I’m busy . . .” She looked down. Reuth’s knuckles were white against her hand.

“You’re hurting me,” she said, confusion claiming her. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, Perl. I’m so sorry,” Reuth said and then she looked toward the front door. “In here!” she called. “I’ve got her.”

Perl reacted like a burned cat, clawing and shrieking, but suddenly men were upon her, holding her down. Then the vile sensation claimed her again and she knew why they were here.

“Where?” she groaned.

“He’s coming, my girl. I’m so sorry,” Reuth said.

“Who is it?” she cried.

Marth growled. “Hush now, keep your voice down, lass, or you’ll have us all killed for our trouble.”

Reuth stroked her face, begged her to be still. It was hopeless anyway, she knew it. She’d avoided this all of her life. Maybe it was easiest to just give up and give in.

“That’s it, that’s it, Perl. You be calm now, my girl,” Reuth said, tears streaking her cheeks. “It’s Leonel. He’s young and he’s handsome . . . and he’s—”

“Valisar!” Perl groaned. “Please, I beg you, don’t do this to me. You’re my friend.” She began to tremble, choking on the words as the pain intensified.

“You’re already dead in your heart, Perl. Already a prisoner. What difference does it make?” Reuth pleaded.

She was pinned down on her cot, her head flung back, and the men did not let up on their grip even though she had stopped struggling. The tears dripped from either side of her eyes into the scarf that covered her head. “But not in my mind, Reuth . . .” she cried. “I’m free in my mind.”

And she began to retch helplessly as a shadow fell across her doorway.