“Damn everything, but I wish Talin were with us right now,” Adena mutters. “She could sneak around better than the rest of us combined.”

My thoughts turn, as always, to Talin.

For a long time after we were separated, I listened for her—hoping for her presence to come through our link. Now and then, I felt stabs of pain from her, of heartbreak and anguish. I spent many of those first nights of our separation sleepless, retching, feverish, wondering what they might be doing to her. It took every last one of the others to prevent me from going off in search of her.

Over the last few months, though, there has been little from Talin. Whenever I reach out to her, I sense only her heartbeat thrumming in rhythm with mine. Still, I’m hopeful. You have to be, right?

What would I say, if I could reach her?

Be safe. Protect yourself.

I’m sorry.

I love you.

I wait and wait. But there’s nothing.

The ways they could have hurt her haunt my every nightmare. I wake each night in a sweat, whispering her name, my mind seared with the image of her left on the battlefield, when I was unable to save her. Maybe her heartbeat in our link is just a figment of my imagination. Maybe she’s already dead.

And if she is, it’s my fault.

I feel the edges of a deep, familiar panic at the recesses of my mind. The memories of my lost sister and father, their Ghosts snarling at me. If we go down to the walls of Newage right now, will I confront a Ghost with Talin’s face?

These questions are still swirling when a sharp pain suddenly lances down my back. Instinctively I whirl, knocking Adena off-balance enough to send her tumbling.

“Ow!” I growl.

Adena props herself back up and scowls at me. “Let me know if you’re going to flinch that hard!”

“Let me know if you’re going to stab me with a knife.”

“I didn’t stab you with a knife!” Adena snaps as she holds both arms out.

“Well, it felt like it.”

“I tried to straighten one of your feather blades, and you squawked like you just saw a lizard crawl out of my mouth.”

I blink at her strange analogy. “Is that possible?”

“You’ve never heard that phrase before?” She stands up and dusts off her hands. “Never mind. Give your wings a try. You still won’t be able to fly well, but I think you can glide.”

I stand up, my wings still extended. At the sight, Adena backs away automatically, her expression wary. I may be their friend now, but it doesn’t mean they think of me that way. To the rest of this camp, I’m still a Karensan war machine, one that’s somehow gone rogue and ended up temporarily allied with them. No one forgives an enemy that easily. There will come a day, they must think, that I’ll turn on them again.