“You were keeping the heir from the goblins.”

“The boy, yes,” Jileen said, enjoying her role. “The mother we care nothing for, but if they found her then she might reveal to whom she entrusted her son. Kederic needed to die before he told where he had dumped her, but the husk and your mortal pet failed.”

Rosheen bristled. “You used Padric.” It was not a question.

“The husk did,” Jileen admitted. “And I was using the husk. Neither of them realized it, of course. Once they were captured, I needed a way to get close so…”

Svala was once again standing in the tent.

“He cares for her,” Rosheen let the venom flow into her voice.

“And why should he not?” Svala asked. “The dear girl was every bit the sweet, beautiful creature in life. I merely took her place.”

“But you failed,” Rosheen said. “Kederic lives. And any words he might speak are useless. Pocket is dead.”

Something settled on Svala’s face.

Fear. And not an act.

“I wanted to see for myself,” Svala said gravely. “My lord will be displeased. If I return to him with this news, I will die. But I have no intention of returning.”

“Stay here and you suffer the same end,” Rosheen promised. “The knight is just outside.”

“You won’t summon him,” Svala said, “for two reasons.”

“Don’t tempt me skinchanger.”

“First,” Svala went on, “if you slay me, Padric will know the truth and you would spare him that pain. Svala kept him alive, and knowing that the woman he swore to save was already dead…”

“Damn you.”

“Second,” the gruagach paused. “You know the truth.”

“And that is?”

Svala’s face showed true sorrow. “If the boy had been with us…he would still be alive.”

Rosheen looked down at the small, covered form lying on the ground. Seeing she had no response, Svala turned to go.

“Your life has a price,” Rosheen called her back. Svala turned, waited.

“Answer me this question, and if you lie, I will know.” She took a breath. “Are you carrying a child?”

Svala’s gaze did not falter, the lips remained steady. “No.”

Rosheen remained in the tent a long while after she was gone.

When she emerged she found the coburn making their final preparations. She passed without a word, catching Sir Corc’s eye as she went. The knight gave her the slightest nod.

Padric was saddling a horse on the edge of camp, the saddlebags resting in the grass, bulging with provisions.

“Kederic gifted you with a mount?” she asked, flying over to stroke the animal.

Padric cinched the girth strap tight.

He has learned so much.

“No,” he said earnestly. “I just took it. Plenty of them to spare.”

She laughed. “So, now you’re a horse thief?”

“Been a good deal worse,” he grunted.

“Svala not coming?” she asked innocently.