The effect was immediate and dramatic, like being hit over the head with the broad side of a sword. Amon sank to his knees to keep from falling. Sensation flooded into him, overwhelming him, coming from wherever in the realm someone was thinking on the princess heir, or where something was happening that might touch on her future.

It was four in the morning, but Micah Bayar was awake, staring out his window in the castle on Gray Lady, his thoughts fixed on Raisa. The bakers in the royal kitchens shoved cakes into the ovens, thinking on the name day party for the princess heir, wondering if she would notice their efforts. Averill Demonai prepared to leave the city, worrying about the daughter he was leaving behind. Queen Marianna’s mind was muddied, clouded by a healer’s draft, but she still slept restlessly, dwelling on her daughter’s launch into adulthood.

“Shut it out,” his father said. “It’s the only way at first. You’ll get used to it.”

Amon pressed his hands against his head, trying to filter some of it out, focusing on the tower room five miles away, where Raisa dreamed in her bed under the stars. She, too, slept restlessly, and Amon was surprised to find she was thinking about him, and whispering his name in her sleep.

“Come,” the speaker said, and Amon’s father helped him to his feet, keeping a tight grip on his arm to prevent his falling. Jemson walked in front, carrying the basin, with Amon and Edon Byrne behind. They walked into the cloister garden, where the white spots of night-blooming flowers drew Amon’s eye, and their intoxicating fragrance seduced him.

“Amon Byrne, we bind you to the bones of the queens buried in the soil of the Fells. You are bound to the queendom as you are to the queens of the Gray Wolf line. You will defend it as their dwelling place. You may leave the Fells, but this will always be your home.”

Jemson poured the blood into the soil of the garden.

It was as though Amon were putting long roots down, deep into the soil, into the groundwater. He tasted the Dyrnnewater on his tongue and sucked in the breath of Hanalea.

As if in a dream, the speaker lifted his hand and slid the Gray Wolf ring into place on Amon’s right ring finger. It fit perfectly.

His father embraced him, and the speaker was smiling and saying, “It’s done.”

C H A P T E R  T W E N T Y - T W O

DESPERATE
MEASURES

Although Bird still spent most of her time with the Demonai warriors, she and Han found many opportunities to meet—at the cave, at a shelter on Ghost Lake, or on the banks of Old Woman Creek. They even met at Lucius’s cabin a time or two when Han knew the old man would be out fishing.