The storm moved on, and the bleeding stopped before Tavin woke for his watch. She didn’t tell him about that, either. In the morning, for the fifth straight day, she lit the teeth.

On the sixth day, she fell.

Gray patches had drifted through her vision all morning. She’d wanted to believe it was only from Vultures scavenging at her sleep, but she knew better. Her bones sang no more, ached no more, only shuddered and howled. Still she kept the three teeth burning.

The skinwitches had drawn too close. A day behind them, maybe less.

And every time she slept, she let them close in.

They’d made it across the plain, into the kind of country where crags and cliffs jutted up from dark forests like teeth of a beast bent on devouring the sky. By Fie’s guess, the summer solstice was only a moon and a half off, yet snow still lingered in the shade of impossibly tall pines. Every so often, when the boys’ backs were turned, Fie would scrub a fistful of slush over her face to sting herself awake.

It didn’t work. Midway through the afternoon, gray choked her vision off. Fie stopped, bones screeching in protest as she fought to keep upright. They had to keep moving. The Sparrow tooth triad showed her Vulture webs prowling at the horizon, waiting for her to foul up. Keep moving. Keep your eyes open. Keep the oath—

Her knees buckled. Someone called her name, once, twice—then nothing.

She’d no notion of how much time passed before Tavin’s face swam into view. His voice followed a slow heartbeat later.

“… too much. We need to get somewhere safe so she can rest.”

“You managed in Gerbanyar,” the prince argued. “What if she just walks—”

“No.” Tavin cut him off. “It’s not the same. I lost control. She’s been burning herself out for days.”

“Have not,” she tried to grumble. Instead what she said was “Hrmmgh.”

The world tipped. Tavin had shifted her in his arms. “Easy now,” he said in something uncomfortably close to a Safe voice, dabbing at her nose with one sleeve. Red spotted the cloth. “You’ll be fine, you just need to sleep it off.”

She didn’t want to sleep it off. The Vultures were coming.

“Hngh,” she protested before gray clouded her sight again.

Everything spun as Tavin stood, gathering her to him. “We need to get to shelter.”

No, she tried to say, but couldn’t manage even that. You have to keep moving, you have to keep your eyes open—

“Are you sure?”

“She’s the only reason the Vultures haven’t rounded us up already,” Tavin said tightly. “Yes, Jas. I’m sure.”

Gray faded to black and took Fie with it.

She woke to the scratch of stone.

“Let me.” That was Tavin.

Scratch. Scratch. “I can do it.”

“Jas—”

“Just—just let me…” Scratch-scratch-scratch. “… give me a moment. It just has to catch—”

“Go wash up, Jas,” Tavin sighed. “We probably won’t have another chance before we reach Trikovoi.”