Theyen lowers the book at his side. “The practice was banned and fell into obscurity, but some time before the Yalaeng Conquest, there were accounts of shamans who tried to do this. None survived. But if Ronin actually succeeded?” He pushes snowy hair off his forehead, his expression somber. “It would explain why he has magic here in the heart of the Dead Wood when no other shaman would risk bringing their familiar within a day’s ride of the trees.”

I lean my back against the bookcase, arms crossed. What Theyen suggests would explain a great many things about the Spider King. Although the notion that it was Ronin skittering through the gardens that night I ventured into the maze makes my skin crawl.

If he was already a powerful sower, pursuing an unnatural union with his familiar might have been enough to defeat the Soulless and win him control of the Dead Wood. Sowers likely control plants by manipulating the liquid within them. It seems a shame that Ronin should rule over the one place where he cannot use his craft as it was intended.

But the explanation doesn’t quite fit. Even now, a phantom power wills me to return to the garden maze. Something is back there, and given the evidence, it can only be Ronin’s familiar.

Saengo makes a quiet gasping sound, suddenly collapsing against the bookcase. My breath catches as I rush to her. Her face is ashen, the skin around her mouth tight with pain. A sheen of sweat slicks her brow.

Theyen drops at her other side. He scoops her into his arms and lifts her easily from the floor. “Let’s get her to your rooms. Quickly.”

The rush to our rooms passes in a panicked blur. Theyen heads straight for the bedroom and places her on the sheets. His movements are gentle, but she still winces in pain and tugs at her collar.

“Sirscha,” she says between gasps.

I grasp her hand tightly between mine as Theyen backs away to give us space. Fear churns in my gut. “Saengo, tell me what you need. Should I send for the healer?”

She grimaces. “It wouldn’t do any good. She left yesterday.”

I rear back a bit, first in surprise and then outrage. I turn on Theyen. “Why would she leave? Did you send her away?”

Saengo places a hand on my forearm. “Calm down. She left because there wasn’t anything else she could do. The rot can no longer be contained. It’s too far gone.”

I shake my head and reach for the connection between us, which is when I realize … it’s not there. Or rather, it’s weakened enough that although I still sense Saengo, her emotions barely reach me now.