“Where is he?” Soraya demanded as she approached the virulent waters of the Mortal Marsh. Sinna Marin stood with her back to her, eyes cast down into the pond. She remembered what Shim had told her about how looking into these waters would tell you the exact day of your death and how such knowledge would eventually drive you to madness.

“Making demands is a rather rude way of showing gratitude for someone who helped you, isn’t it? Isn’t Cintra teaching lessons in manners anymore?” Still the woman persisted in looking away from her.

“I am grateful. Very grateful. But I wish you’d have told me you could help Seela from the start. The way in which you saved her was…jarring. Look, it’s been a long, difficult night. I just want to know that my partner is safe.”

“He is safe. Just resting.” Finally the woman turned, pointing to the right. Soraya followed her gaze to where she could just make out Shim’s form as he slumbered in a makeshift hammock strung between two trees. His snakeskin was shedding fiercely now, entire skeins of loose, dry material hanging from his arms and legs. Morg shoved his way from his pouch and bounded over to the man, settling on his chest and riding it up and down as his breath rose and fell. Errol sat across from him, wary of the mischievous creature.

“How did you bring him all this way on your own?”

“Does it matter?”

“I suppose not. Thank you. I am in your debt.”

The woman waved her words away with a slender, pale hand. “There is nothing I need. All I desire is to bring the truth to those who have been blessed with Narcissi’s Light shining within them. Like you.”

“What truth?”

“The truth Cintra refuses to tell her precious Forsworn. The truth I wanted to tell them, which led to me being exiled.”

“My fellow Forsworn say you were banished for being too radical in your thinking.”

“If the truth is radical, then I am as guilty as charged.”

“You still haven’t answered my question about what truth you speak of.”

“It is not a question that can be answered in just a few words. All I can say is that everything you’ve been taught is wrong, skewed, distorted, like trying to see details of a wintry landscape through a frosted window at dusk. The trees resemble monsters, their branches like claws, their boughs gaping mouths intent on devouring anything that has the misfortune of coming too close. But in reality, they are just trees, something you can easily see by simply opening the window. If you come with me, I can help you open the window.”

“Come where?”