But something else didn’t.

Kåre! The call was as loud as he could make it, but the worthless child sitting by the fire, staring forlornly at his bone flute, did not hear. They were too far south for him to be allowed to play it, in case the sound carried to enemy ears. But he had been moaning about it for days, and was too preoccupied to listen to more important things on the wind.

Ødger Redspear! The large fey was standing nearby, polishing the stolen weapon that had given him his byname. He’d taken it off a troll, after dueling him as if the creature was an equal. It should have been a sign of dishonor, yet he treated it as a trophy. He had as much intellect as that troll, Erri thought savagely, when he did not hear the message, either.

Arne! The lanky eagle tender did look up, as if hearing something, at least. But then his cursed bird screeched and stole his attention. He smoothed its feathers, calming it down, while his shield brother ran for his life, unheard—

The fey’s attempt at mental communication suddenly cut out when I plowed into someone. Someone I hadn’t seen because my mind had been busy with the camp, but who now yelled and fought and fell—and grabbed hold to take me along with him. The fey and I plunged what must have been thirty feet, leaving both of us stunned on impact despite landing in a massive pile of leaves. But I somehow managed to get an arm up, seconds before he stabbed an arrow through my heart, and caught his wrist.

Sleep, I thought desperately, and watched his eyes fall closed.

I fell back against the ground, shivering and shaking and wondering how many things I’d just broken.

It felt like a lot.

It felt like everything.

You’re okay, I told myself. You’re not really here, remember? But it was hard to keep that in mind as I writhed and twisted, fighting to pull air back into lungs that felt as flattened as the rest of me.

I finally managed it, gulping in a shallow breath a moment before Rhea and Guinn ran up, calling my name. I couldn’t see them, being buried under a mountain of leaves, and couldn’t hear them much better. But that last wasn’t the leaves’ fault.

My ears were still full of the sounds of the distant camp. Fires popped, horses whinnied, and a few light notes from a flute sighed on the wind. Whatever part of my mind that controlled hearing seemed to be stuck inside the fey’s head, and I didn’t know how to get it out.