“Just settle down.” Ryne put his hands out as if placating a skittish horse.

Wrong move. Kerrick suppressed a grin.

Avry shot to her feet.

Ryne stood, as well. “We have to be diplomatic about this. Estrid might have a change of heart and return. She is the High Priestess. We don’t want to ruin our relationship with her.”

“Burning bridges and all that, eh, Ryne?” Loren asked.

“Exactly.”

“Isn’t Estrid burning a bridge by leaving?” Flea asked.

“Oh, yeah, a huge conflagration,” Quain quipped. “But she has all the bridge builders on her side, while we’re left with a burned mess.”

“Exactly,” Loren said.

Avry’s entire body stiffened with that stubborn determination Kerrick knew so well. He’d feel sorry for Ryne, but the man had brought this on himself. And truthfully, if Ryne was going to meekly let Estrid walk away, he deserved it.

“I’m going to talk to her,” Avry declared. “The High Priestess owes me one.” She glanced at Kerrick.

“I’ll be here. Go burn some bridges.”

She nodded and strode toward the cave. Ryne shot Kerrick a sour look before hurrying after her. Wide grins spread on the monkeys’ faces.

“This is too good to miss,” Quain said, following Ryne.

“I’d better make sure Quain behaves.” Loren jogged to catch up.

Kerrick glanced at Flea. “You can go, too. I don’t mind.”

“Nah. Who wants to listen to a bunch of people arguing? Avry isn’t going to change the High Priestess’s mind. I’ve seen that look before.”

He studied Flea. The young man had pulled his knees to his chest. Flea drew in the dirt with a finger.

“What look?”

“The death stare.”

Not what Kerrick had been expecting. He delayed his response by adding another log to the fire. “I’m not familiar with that term.”

“She’s seen her death. Looked it right in the face. Had that moment of knowing she’ll die.”

“But she was frozen in the stasis. Sepp calls it a fake death.”

Flea shrugged. “A person’s life doesn’t need to be in danger. It’s the realization of not if you’ll die, but when and how. The inevitability of it. It leaves a nasty taste in your mouth.”

“That’s true for everyone.”

“Yeah, but we ignore it. For her, it’s right there, staring at her.”

Kerrick wasn’t sure if Flea was right or not. But there was no denying Estrid was terrified. “You said you’ve seen the death stare before. Where?”

“Every time I gaze in a mirror.”

Oh, no. “Flea, you’re—”

“Don’t. You can’t see it. You’re not a death magician.”

He resisted the urge to argue with Flea. Avry had said to be subtle so he tried another approach. “Do I have it?”

Surprised, Flea glanced up and met his gaze for a moment before returning to his earthy sketches. “No.”