“Please Illior, patron of Kouros and nightrunners; please Sakor of the Flame and battle—help me. I wasn’t meant to die like this!” Reaching into her coat, she took out the sharpened gorget and knelt there in the black opal’s light, testing the sharp edge with her thumb. The shining golden blade was shaped like Illior’s Moon. With her other hand she found the large artery that ran beside her throat. The pulse throbbed solidly against her fingers, proof that she was not yet a ghost in this awful landscape.

It would be so easy.

Eia nyis, ashkira, a woman’s voice whispered to her, and Klia felt a hand cover hers holding the blade. Eia nistha. The accent was strange but Klia recognized the Aurënfaie words: Not today, warrior. Not today. It was the same voice that had screamed something about “skin” the day Rhazat had tortured Mika here.

“Nhandi?” Who else could it be, in this place?

Kamar yosi eyír, ashkira. I am with you, warrior.

“Eyíra rili?” she whispered.

Es rili. Kamar sika es rili … It tapered off in a sigh.

“You want your skin?” Klia shivered at the implication of that. “Aubus ei nathama, Khirsalä!” Tell me what to do, Honored Ancestor.

No reply came, but the touch on her hand lingered a moment longer. Klia put the blade away and wiped her eyes.

Not today.

Trudging from the cave, she struck out upriver again, hoping to stumble across the portal that Mika had found, when she suddenly had the distinct impression of someone looking at her. Turning, she saw someone following her at a distance from the direction of the town. It appeared to be a man, and she breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t a dra’gorgos on the hunt for her. Just a townsperson.

She continued on for a few yards, then felt that warning prickle between her shoulder blades. Looking back again, she saw that the man was coming after her at a run. She’d never seen any local person running. He was dressed in the usual drab clothing and a head rag, but as he came closer, she recognized his long, loping gait.

It was Alec.

Praying it wasn’t one of Rhazat’s cruel illusions, Klia ran to meet him and they fell into each other’s arms and clung to each other for a moment. Klia was the first to step back. Alec’s eyes were the same clear, dark blue as ever, and he was carrying a pack that probably held food, but she couldn’t afford to rule out dra’gorgos possession just yet. Zella had taught her that.

“Thank the Maker, I didn’t think I’d ever find you!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been skulking around the town and tower almost every day for a week—anytime I could find my way in. You’re a hard person to track down.”