“No. I came to stand as witness for those who are gone.”

Kartane studied her, then shook his head. “You can end this.”

“I’ve already told you, I can’t.”

“You can end this. You can stop this pain. And you’re damn well going to!”

With a howl of rage, Kartane rushed her—and went right through her. He hit the door, unable to stop himself.

When he turned around, there was no one else in the room.

5 / Kaeleer

Daemon approached Jaenelle cautiously, reluctant to disturb her solitude and not sure what to think about the odd blend of sadness and satisfaction on her face. The solitude was an illusion, of course. When she had left her room in the guardhouse and gone out to sit near the creek, Lucivar, Chaosti, and half a dozen Dea al Mon guards had followed her, swiftly disappearing into the woods. He couldn’t see any of them, but he knew they were nearby, watching and listening.

“Here,” he said quietly, handing her a mug. “It’s just herbal tea. Nothing fancy.” When she thanked him, he slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, feeling self-conscious. “Is everything all right?”

Jaenelle hesitated. “I did what I went to do.” She took a sip of the tea, peered into the cup, then looked at him. “What’s in this?”

“A little of this and that.”

“Uh-huh.”

If that doubtful tone had come from any other woman, he would have felt insulted. But the concentration—and hint of frustration—in her eyes as she took another sip indicated that her doubt was caused by his dismissive “nothing fancy” rather than the brew itself.

She eyed him speculatively. “I don’t suppose you would be willing to exchange the recipe for this brew for one of mine?”

Since she liked it that much, it was tempting to refuse so that he would be the only one who could make it for her, but he quickly realized that the time spent with her over a table full of herbs would serve him far better.

Daemon smiled. “I know a couple of brews you might find interesting.”

Jaenelle returned the smile, then drained the mug and stood up. “I’d like to head out to Amdarh soon,” she said as they walked back to the guardhouse. “That way, we can get settled in tonight.”

Despite Lucivar’s and Chaosti’s firm warnings, Daemon had to bite his tongue to keep from suggesting that she eat something first. They had told him her resistance against any attempt to get some food into her would be in direct proportion to her mood when she returned from this meeting. He’d only needed one glance at her face when she came out of her room to know any suggestion would have been pointless.

“I think you’ll like Amdarh,” Jaenelle said. “It’s a beautiful—” She stopped walking, then sniffed the air. “Is that stew?”