Smiling down at Raisa, she laid her palm on her forehead. “Briar Rose, granddaughter, how is it with you?”

“I don’t know, Elena Cennestre,” Raisa said with spirit. “I may be sick, but everyone around me is crazy.” She glared at her father and Amon Byrne, who must have found a shirt somewhere, because he was covered up now.

Elena laughed, slapping her thigh, and Raisa immediately felt better. Elena would sort everyone out.

“Let’s see this mark of yours,” Elena said, untying the string at the neck of Raisa’s gown. She spread the fabric and studied the mark at the base of Raisa’s neck. There were blisters now, centered around an area of tender pink skin.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“No. I didn’t even know it was there,” Raisa admitted. “I must have reacted to the pendant.”

“So it seems.” Elena studied the wound some more, and then fished in her bag, producing a stone jar. “It doesn’t seem to have gone too deep,” she said. “I’m not the healer Willo is, but I have some skill.” She yanked out the stopper and held out a jar of light green ointment. “It’s rowan, and some other herbs. With your permission?”

“All right,” Raisa said warily.

Elena dipped her fingers into the ointment and smeared it over the blisters on Raisa’s neck. It smelled like pine and fresh air and seemed to cool her entire body. She settled back into her pillows, releasing a long breath. Her head stopped spin-ning. Where she had been feverish and agitated, now she felt calm and focused. Her mind slowly cleared of doubt and confusion and desire, like sediment settling from a mountain lake.

“Thank you, Mother Elena,” she whispered. “That’s much better.”

Elena recorked the jar and dropped it into her remedy bag. “Your father said you were with the wizard Micah Bayar. What happened between you?”

Raisa wasn’t certain exactly what her grandmother was asking. “Well, we danced. And…and kissed.”

“Nothing else?” Elena’s eyes were fixed on her face.

Raisa’s face burned with embarrassment. This was not the sort of conversation she wanted to have with her grandmother. Much less the Matriarch of Demonai Camp. And not with Amon Byrne watching. At least he had the decency to look embarrassed.

“That’s pretty much it,” she said bluntly.

Elena and Averill exchanged meaningful glances.

“So I don’t see what all the fuss is about,” Raisa said. “If I want to dance with Micah Bayar, I will. He’s…he’s a good dancer,” she finished lamely. “And charming.”

Amon Byrne rolled his eyes, and Raisa resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at him.

“The necklace the Bayars gave you was a seduction amulet, Raisa,” Averill said. “In common use before the Breaking, but forbidden these days. It works with the ring young Bayar was wearing to create a powerful attraction in both parties.”