Sheridan burst into the room. “Ashk?”

“More water. Now!”

Gasping, Aiden said, “I’m sorry,” over and over.

“Who did this?” Ashk snapped. “Was it Lucian?”

Aiden nodded.

Sheridan returned, carrying two water pitchers from other rooms. As Ashk grabbed one from him, she saw Morag standing in the doorway.

“Where is Lucian?” Morag asked.

Ashk bared her teeth. “Who cares where—” She stopped. Stared at Morag. Then she looked at Aiden. “Does he know about Ari? Does he know where to find her?”

“I didn’t tell him,” Aiden gasped. “Only that she was alive. But he guessed…because I’m traveling with you.”

Ashk looked up.

Morag was already gone.

One thing at a time. “Get the basin and fill it with water,” she told Sheridan. When the basin was on the bed and filled, she reached for the sodden cloth over Aiden’s hands.

Shuddering, Aiden closed his eyes. Lyrra turned her head.

Carefully, Ashk lifted the cloth—and sighed with relief. Lightly gripping his wrists, she raised his hands high enough for Sheridan to push the basin under them. Then she gently lowered Aiden’s hands into the water.

Not what she’d feared. Nothing like she’d feared. A few blisters were rising, and his hands were a bright red. She’d seen skin that red when young farmers foolishly stripped to the waist and worked in the fields all day early in planting season. She doubted Aiden would be comfortable for a few days, but he would be all right.

“Stay with him.” She ran out of the room and down the corridor, passing Morphia and the Clan healer the Sleep Sister must have fetched.

Down the stairs and through the communal rooms. Out of the Clan house, running through the gardens until she reached the stable.

“Have you seen the Lightbringer?” she panted. Her anger grew fangs when no one answered until one of her own men stepped forward.

“He came out of the Clan house a little while ago,” the huntsman said. “He changed to his other form and galloped toward the bridge that connects to the Clan just west of here.” He shrugged. “We thought he’d decided to guest elsewhere tonight.”

“What about the Gatherer?”

Now he looked uncomfortable. “She saddled her horse in a hurry and headed out in the same direction.

Ashk stared at him, a cold lump growing in her belly.

He shifted his feet, uneasy now. “She didn’t have her saddlebags. Said there wasn’t time to fetch them when we offered to get them for her, so we made sure she had a canteen for water and a small bag of grain for the horse. She wouldn’t wait for anything else.”

Ashk nodded. “You did what you could.”

She walked back to the Clan house, fighting the urge to ride out after Morag. Lucian had the advantage—at least until he reached the western Clans. After that…