“Do you believe what they say about soulguides?” I demand, perhaps more harshly than she deserves.

Her lips twist to one side, like she’s deliberating how best to answer without making me angry. “I’d never given it much thought before you arrived, to be honest. I’ve not had the best experience with lightwenders.”

“You mentioned something like that before. What happened?”

She shifts on her feet and lowers her eyes.

I shake my head. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have asked. Can I just—” I tug at my braid. “Can I be alone for a minute?”

She nods at the exit. “I’ll be right outside.”

The sunlight knifes across the ground as she leaves, before the tent is once again immersed in shadows. The low murmur of the shamanborn penetrates the tent. I push loose hair roughly behind my ears, my fingers once again finding those thin scars, proof that what and who I am cannot be so easily erased. Maybe Ronin is right. Maybe I should’ve been practicing my craft instead of wasting time trying to unearth the Dead Wood’s secrets.

If I’d practiced more, dared the dangers of the Dead Wood more, fought Theyen more, maybe I could have saved Audri. Maybe I could heal Saengo. Maybe I would actually deserve the faith these shamanborn have placed in me.

With a groan, I cover my face and listen only to the sounds of my breaths. In and out.

Facts, Sirscha, I tell myself. Focus on the facts.

Audri’s death is a grim reminder that the Dead Wood must be dealt with. I could free Audri and the other trapped souls. I need only learn how. And to save Saengo, I must remove the source of the disease. I need to find Kendara and learn what she knows about Ronin and the Dead Wood.

The crush of so many expectations is matched only by the fear of not measuring up. I press my palms to my temples. Fear is not a wall. It is a whip at my back, driving me onward.

I might not be a proper soulguide, but I am not helpless. Kendara made sure of that. I already possess every skill I’ll need to reach her in Vos Gillis. But what about the shamanborn imprisoned there? They’ll be executed if they’re returned to the Valley.

Once, I might have helped to imprison them if the queen had ordered it—what sort of monster did that make me? Knowing what she does to her enemies, looking the other way becomes terribly easy. But no longer. I won’t leave the imprisoned shamanborn to the queen’s vengeance.