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Chapters (61)
  1. Dedication
  2. Prologue
  3. Ashyn: One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Eight
  11. Moria: Nine
  12. Ten
  13. Eleven
  14. Twelve
  15. Thirteen
  16. Ashyn: Fourteen
  17. Fifteen
  18. Sixteen
  19. Moria: Seventeen
  20. Eighteen
  21. Nineteen
  22. Twenty
  23. Twenty-one
  24. Twenty-two
  25. Ashyn: Twenty-three
  26. Twenty-four
  27. Twenty-five
  28. Twenty-six
  29. Twenty-seven
  30. Twenty-eight
  31. Twenty-nine
  32. Thirty
  33. Moria: Thirty-one
  34. Thirty-two
  35. Thirty-three
  36. Thirty-four
  37. Thirty-five
  38. Thirty-six
  39. Thirty-seven
  40. Ashyn: Thirty-eight
  41. Thirty-nine
  42. Forty
  43. Forty-one
  44. Forty-two
  45. Forty-three
  46. Forty-four
  47. Forty-five
  48. Forty-six
  49. Forty-seven
  50. Forty-eight
  51. Forty-nine
  52. Moria: Fifty
  53. Fifty-one
  54. Fifty-two
  55. Fifty-three
  56. Fifty-four
  57. Fifty-five
  58. About the Author
  59. Back Ad
  60. Credits
  61. About the Publisher

I failed him.

But it’s not too late for the others.

She pushed up from her sleeping spot, Tova rising beside her.

“Can you find him?” she whispered.

Tova grunted, as if understanding. She would go speak to Ronan now. She’d tell the others at dawn and then leave with Ronan.

Twenty-five

Twenty-five

Soon after Ashyn returned from talking to Ronan, she awoke to a scream. She leaped up. Tova was already on his feet, fur bristling.

It was Wenda. The girl stood by her blanket, sobbing as Beatrix held her.

A nightmare, Ashyn thought, sinking down again. The girl had held up so far, but bad dreams had to come eventually.

As Ashyn settled, though, she noticed Gregor standing in front of Beatrix and Wenda, motioning frantically, saying something she couldn’t hear over the girl’s sobs.

Ashyn pushed up again. Wenda raced over and threw herself into Ashyn’s arms, head buried against her as she cried.

“What happened?” Ashyn asked.

Gregor turned to her. “The girl had a nightmare. She dreamed—”

“It was not a nightmare!” Wenda pushed from Ashyn’s arms and swiped at her tears. “You touched me.”

“Touched . . . ?” Ashyn began.

“He came into my sleeping blanket. I felt someone there, and I forgot where I was and thought it was my sister. I moved closer to get warm, and then I felt his hand on my leg. It was moving toward my . . .” She leaned and whispered the rest to Ashyn.

Ashyn sprang up. “Gregor!”

“No!” His face filled with what looked like genuine horror. “I swear on my ancestors I did not do this, Seeker. I could . . . I could not imagine such a thing. The girl is mistaken. She’s had a nightmare. I swear—”

Wenda howled and ran at him. Ashyn grabbed her, and the girl sobbed that she had not dreamed it. Beatrix took her, and she collapsed against the older woman.

“I did not do this,” Gregor said. “I am not saying the child is telling tales, only that she is mistaken.”

“How would she even imagine such a thing?” Beatrix said.

As Ashyn thought it through, the arguing and accusations gradually ceased, and she glanced up to see everyone looking at her. Waiting for her to give her opinion.

No, they don’t await your opinion. They await your verdict.

With neither the commander nor the governor in their party, the weight of authority fell to her.

She looked from Gregor’s horror to Wenda’s anguish, both seeming equally certain of what had—or had not—occurred here. Then to Beatrix, her glower and stiff back placing her firmly on Wenda’s side.

Ashyn was not qualified to make this decision. Yet they expected it of her. They needed it.

I can do this.

I must do this.

“Wenda,” she said. “I need you to tell me again what happened. Gregor? Please don’t interrupt her. You’ll have your turn.”