“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m being unfair, I know.”

“Do you really think I made the wrong choice by coming here?” I remained standing, but even seated, he was taller than me. “You saw that the Order was after me. It was only a matter of time.”

“I know. I know you’re right; it’s just that when I lost my grip on the Haunt, I felt … I don’t even know.” He swallowed. “You could have easily died today. And if you’re here because of me, that means you would have died because of me.”

I softened. “I told you: this goes beyond us.”

He dropped his gaze, miserable. His hair was growing back, I noticed. Still little more than stubble, but with time it would recover. A sudden feeling of tenderness washed over me.

“How are you feeling?” I murmured.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hungry is a bad answer, isn’t it?”

“Not the best. I can give you more space, if it might help.”

“No, I’m okay now.” He lifted his head again, and he did appear calmer, like some unresolved tension had been laid to rest. “Can you restore your lace again?”

My stomach clenched. “Only once more. I’ve tried to spread out consuming the sacraments, but I think I’m risking gorge sickness anyway.”

“You’re scared?”

“I’m more scared of Haunts.”

It might have been the light, but I thought the colour of Finn’s eyes changed. “I think they’re nearby. Be careful. They can’t come this close to the path, but if you stray, they’ll be ready.”

I shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around me. It was dead silent out here, and I suddenly felt acutely vulnerable. Too loud, too clumsy, too slow. Finn stretched his neck to one side and his mouth tightened.

“Is the transformation hurting you?” I asked. “Be honest.”

He was quiet, seeming to weigh his response. I waited.

“A little,” he said at last. “Mostly I’m numb. It’s like I’m losing the ability to feel—I can only sense. Or experience. I can’t really describe it, but there are a lot of ordinary sensations that are vanishing, while others grow much more powerful. And that’s not painful, necessarily, but it’s different.” He rubbed his neck, frowning. “Right now, I’m very conscious of the warmth you’re giving off and your smell. But I couldn’t feel the rain earlier, and I can’t taste anything.”

I absorbed his words.

“Not good, is it?” he said.

I shook my head. “No. But you can always talk to me. I don’t want you to face this alone.”

The rustle of wet grass startled me, but Finn did not react. I turned and saw that Millie was walking toward us.

“The fire’s burning,” she said. “Osan said you should come eat.”

A pot steamed over the flames, where Osan crouched and prodded the rehydrated beans with a spoon. He glanced up as we approached.

“We probably have a week’s worth of food,” he said.