“I just hope they have plumbing,” Rose said. “That was the rough part about staying with the Keepers.”

“I was actually okay with that,” Sydney said unexpectedly. “It was the questionable meat I had a problem with.”

“Whoa, no plumbing?” I exclaimed. My brain had trouble wrapping itself around how you’d even function in such a scenario.

“Better get used to the idea,” Rose teased, glancing back at me. “Liss may not let you guys come back. When this is all over, you two may end up living with the Keepers.”

“I’m sure we can find some alternative before resorting to that,” I said loftily, not wanting to admit how uncertain I was about our future.

Dimitri didn’t share Rose’s amusement. “If the Alchemists are still after her, I’m sure Lissa will let you return to your suite.”

Won’t that be fun, noted Aunt Tatiana. More close quarters with your mother, none of you ever wanting to go out and face the other Moroi.

“That’s no kind of life,” I murmured, thinking of how trapped both Sydney and I had felt. I hadn’t fully realized it until we’d left and had some breathing room. Even when we were fighting, the vibe between us was more electric when we had our freedom. Meeting Sydney’s eyes, I knew she was thinking the same thing and was full of the same questions I had about what our future held. Unfortunately, we weren’t likely to get any answers right away. We could only focus on the immediate concerns. Jill. Olive.

Dimitri came to a halt and pointed off toward the woods. “Look. The beginning of the wards.”

I followed his motion and caught a glimpse of silver in the underbrush. A charmed silver stake. The dhampirs in this commune would have them placed strategically around their settlement, creating a magical barrier to keep Strigoi out. The undead couldn’t cross that kind of power, but it required constant maintenance. If the bonds weakened or someone moved a stake out of place, Strigoi would be able to come through. It was a concern all Moroi and dhampir communities had. The wards at Court were checked several times a day.

We had just passed the stake when a figure suddenly stepped out of the woods and onto the path in front of Dimitri, who struck a defensive stance at the sight of the newcomer and then relaxed when he saw it was a dhampir. She too wore a tough, ready-for-anything expression, along with both a gun and a silver stake at her belt. A medallion around her neck was an exact copy of Olive’s—save that it was edged in blue, not green. The woman’s face softened a little as she took in Rose and Dimitri, then hardened again at the sight of me.

“Greetings,” she said. “You’re looking for Wild Pine?”