Ashyn walked faster, calling louder. When she heard her own name on the wind, she broke into a run, jogging toward a distant figure—

It was Wenda, running barefooted across the rocky plain. Ashyn could make out Ronan following. Ashyn hurried over to Wenda, who ran into her arms with a sob.

“I woke, and you were gone and Beatrix was gone and Tova—”

“It’s all right,” Ashyn said, patting her back as she hugged her.

“But I was all alone with him.”

Ashyn hesitated. Time to end this ruse. “No, you weren’t. Someone was watching.”

The girl’s face screwed up in confusion as Ashyn waved for Ronan to join them. He approached with reluctance.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered over Wenda’s head. “It’s better this way.”

She introduced him as quickly as she could, keenly aware that Beatrix was still missing. Luckily, Wenda was still sleepy enough to simply accept that this boy was here and Ashyn knew him and he would help.

“No sign of Beatrix?” Ronan whispered as they began walking.

“Not yet.” Ashyn lowered her voice, so the girl wouldn’t hear. “I think I heard a snake.”

Ronan cursed. Wenda said something, but Ashyn’s attention was divided between scanning the empty landscape and watching for signs that Tova had scented the old woman.

Ronan and Wenda were talking when Tova stopped, his fur bristling. He was looking to the side, and Ashyn shushed the others as she strained to peer into the night.

The moon slipped behind clouds and the darkness seemed to wrap around them. Wenda crept closer. Ashyn put her arm around the girl’s shoulder. A gust of wind brought a blast of sand and icy cold. Wenda shivered and whimpered.

Then Ashyn heard it again. That dull rasp. Like scales on rock.

“Wh-what is that?” Wenda said.

Ronan lifted his sword and tracked the sound as Tova did too. Both halted, facing the same direction.

“We’re going to walk that way,” Ronan whispered, pointing his sword in the opposite direction. “And don’t be quiet about it. As I’ve said before, with snakes, you run the biggest risk if you startle them.”

As he said the words, something deep in her gut flared up, telling her no. She tried to push the feeling aside, but it only grew stronger.

“Ashyn?” Ronan whispered.

“I—I think we ought to be quiet,” she said. “I feel . . .” She swallowed.

“Is it the spirits?” Wenda whispered.

Ashyn shook her head. “I haven’t heard any out here. I just— I feel . . .”

“She’s the Seeker,” Wenda said to Ronan. “We ought to listen.”

Ashyn suspected that carried little weight with him, but then the noise came again, closer now, and when Ashyn looked over—

She stifled a gasp. Ronan wheeled, sword up.