Crell had a moment to blink around at bright sun, a blue sky, gray stone, and dozens of tiny, blond heads, prowling towards him.

And then his body was falling into darkness, the taste of honey still sweet on his lips, as someone started eating him.

“Cassie! Now!” Someone was yelling, and for a moment, I didn’t know who. My mind was caught in the memory of a dead man, only no, that would have been better. My mind was caught in the memory of a dying man, as he was ripped apart—

Until I was abruptly jerked backwards. I hit the side of the hill, hard enough to send clods of dirty snow raining down onto my head, just as Gertie’s portal snapped shut. And then I just stayed there, looking blankly at the purple haired woman in front of me, because something was wrong.

Memories continued to crowd me, hard and fast and brighter, far brighter, than anything I’d received from the skull. I looked down and found an arrow clutched in my hand, but not shot through it this time. It was clasped in my palm, as if I’d somehow picked it up or pulled it out of the giant’s forehead, only I didn’t remember doing it. I didn’t remember—

“—where I left it!” Iver ransacked the small room, throwing even the lumpy straw mattress against the wall.

“Let it go—” Torben said, grabbing his arm. “We’re going to be late. They’re assembling now—"

“I’m not letting it go! Some thief must have taken it—”

“Or you left it on the battlements again, as always.” His roommate released him, but only so he could tie up his hair. He liked it in a ridiculous looking topknot when they hunted, so that it didn’t snag on any passing tree limbs. Odin’s beard, but he was vain as a girl—and completely useless!

“I did not leave it anywhere!” Iver snarled. He threw a pack of clothing after the mattress, and bent to go through the chest at the foot of his bed again, even though he’d already done that twice.

“We’ll be late for the hunt,” Torben said again, mildly.

Nothing bothered him, the big oaf!

“There’s always another hunt; this is my favorite quiver!”

“There’s not another hunt like this.”

“Cassie! Cassie, let it go,” someone was shaking me, but all it did was to throw my head around. The stream of images didn’t stop; if anything, they picked up speed. “You’ve gone too far in. Let the damned thing—”