Cainan sighed. “I can’t tell you everything. There really isn’t time, but maybe this will help. I believe my daughter is heading to Comman Dur. I also believe that Korsiris is going there too. And he will kill her, and everyone else for that matter, who happens to be in his path.”

“Korsiris? Ye mean like…”

“Yes. The Korsiris. The murderous demon.”

“But I thought he was killed, or disappeared, or…”

“He did. But he’s back.”

“How do ye know?”

“You just have to trust me. I know he’s back. He was always going to come back.”

“So this is ’bout savin’ yer daughter?”

“Yes, but it’s also about Finfalla. There are things that have been set in motion that need to be stopped, or diverted. Or we’re all doomed. Please, just pass this along to Corinthia, try to make her understand the gravity of the situation.”

Corinthia…, Perfidy started, preparing to relay Cainan’s message.

I heard.

Ye cain hear whut I hear?

Yes. Eventually you’ll be able to hear what I hear, too.

Perfidy wished she had a moment to bask in the truth and wonder of that statement, but everything was happening too fast. If ye heard him, does that mean ye’ll take us both to Comman Dur?

Why should I? I don’ know this man nor his daughter. And Finfalla doesn’t have the only forest in the world. We can leave, go elsewhere, somewhere free from human drama and their insistence on fighting their bloody wars.

For a raw and exciting moment, Perfidy could imagine the future Corinthia was describing. Leaving Finfalla, a place of sorrow. Being free, the wind at their backs, making a new home wherever they happened to be. And yet, something gave her pause, a truth she only realized once the thought had formed in her consciousness.

I don’ want to leave.

Why not? What has Finfalla ever done for you?

I—I don’ know, but I think I’m s’posed to stay here. I think I’m s’posed to be a part of this.

You think, or you know?

Both mebbe? All I know is there needs to be a reason this is all happenin’ to me. There needs to be a reason I’m out here in the woods talkin’ to a godsdamn bloodpanther an’ a crippled ol’ man who helped me dig up fancy ’shrooms in the dark.

Fine.

Fine?

Yes. I’ll take you both. Because you’re my bloodbond, and this seems to matter to you, though I can’t fathom why. And if it matters to you, I’ll try to make it matter to me too.

Thank ye.

You’re welcome. Now you might as well come outside. I’m waiting, and I’d rather not have to slash any of your friends’ throats if they happen to stumble outside for a midnight stroll.