“What if they’re right?” I asked. “Something is wrong here. And what Kalazan said about the demon-claimed child—”

Dorna grabbed me by the chin, startling me. “Offal and dung, foal! Anyone paying even half-assed attention knows what happened to you at Lonezh Canton—”

I nudged her hand away. “No, they don’t. You know that. I’m Janel Danorak. No one knows; who else survived? Without witnesses, truth twists into rumor. Rumor distorts into myth. Jorat needed a symbol—so they invented their own.”

“Always wondered why that fancy high general never set the record straight.”

I sighed. “He told everyone Xaltorath led the Hellmarch. Which is true.” I lowered my head for a moment, closed my eyes, inhaled. “I suppose this ‘demon-claimed’ label just hits too close to home.”

“I still say it’s chance. Nothing but chance. Anyhow, we’re lucky to lose those outlaws. That lot was trouble, mark my words.”

I looked away, certain we were not even slightly rid of them. “Maybe I should have married Oreth—”

She scoffed louder. “Oh, that would have worked real well. Both of you stallions, and he’s never forgiven you for it. Sir Oreth don’t just want to ride you, he wants to break you.” She set her hands against her hips. “Can’t believe the baron didn’t ask you to stay with him tonight. That one wants for a strong rider, mark my words. You’d be perfect for each other.”

The blood flowed to my cheeks. “It’s not his place to make that suggestion, Dorna. That role is mine.”

“He still shoulda turned his quarters. Rude not to.”

“Only to hear my refusal? Much less embarrassing for him that he didn’t.”

She blushed then, her expression showing less chagrin than guilt. “Aw, foal … maybe once we’re done here. Atrine might be a better place to find someone—”

I was in no mood to discuss bedchamber politics. “Enough, Dorna.”

“Go rest, child. We’ve a big day tomorrow.”

I nodded despite how I dreaded sleep and all it brought. “Yes. Thank you, Dorna.”

Of course, I delayed slumber as long as I could.

As long as I ever could.

But Hell always claims me eventually.

I loathed sleeping. I hated it even though it came easily. I never have any trouble drifting off, sleep taking me the moment my eyes close.

Perhaps because what I do isn’t, technically, sleep.

We live in a universe divided into two worlds, Life and Death. If I spend my waking hours here among the living, my sleep belongs to the goddess Thaena.

I die, you see.

Every night, I die.

I shut my eyes and opened them again, no longer in Mereina.

I stood in a clearing in shadowed woods under storm-red skies. My nightclothes were gone. Instead, I wore plate armor, made from metal so dark it absorbed all the light, a silhouette darker than the night.