Raisa stared out into the surrounding forest, trying to ignore Fiona. The dry bread and cheese were hard to choke down. Shadows moved under the trees. She blinked, and they were still there, gray shapes sliding through the mist. Gray wolves.

It seemed she was seeing them more and more—but maybe that was a reflection of the way her life was going. Were they there because of her present predicament? Or did they signify some new threat?

The wolves surrounded her, tongues lolling, ears flat, bumping their great heads against her middle, nearly knocking her over.

“Great lot of good you do me,” she grumbled. “Why can’t I teach you to attack wizards on command?”

“Excuse me, Raisa?” Micah said. He touched her arm, looking a little concerned. “Were you speaking to me?”

“Nothing. It was nothing.”

She swiveled, scanning the woods around them. Even in spring, with some trees not yet leafed out, Tamron Forest seemed thick and oppressive, crowding in on all sides. Too close.

“Is something wrong, Your Highness?” Micah asked. “You’re not eating.”

“Do you hear anything?” Raisa asked. The forest around them was silent, even the birds had gone eerily quiet. The hair stood up on her arms.

“Micah,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “Let’s go. Something’s wrong. I think we’d better...”

Her voice failed as soldiers stepped out of the forest on all sides, crossbows cocked and ready.

“Put your hands in the air. Now!” shouted a young man with dark hair and mud-brown eyes. A red officer’s scarf was knotted around his neck, and a red hawk was emblazoned on his tunic.

Micah and Fiona glanced at each other, then slowly raised their hands. The others, including Raisa, followed suit.

The soldiers were clad in wool uniforms that had seen hard use. Some wore mismatched armor pieces, others had none. Some bore the red hawk, others were unmarked. From their haggard appearances, they’d been on the road for months. Could this be one of the roving bands of mercenaries Amon had warned her about?

“Don’t even think of touching those jinxpieces,” the officer went on.

Micah leaned toward Fiona. “He’s gifted,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

“I noticed,” she snapped. “What is the meaning of this?” Fiona demanded, glaring at the officer. “Who are you?”

“Collect their jinxpieces and any other weapons you find,” the officer said to his men, ignoring Fiona. “Don’t touch the pendants directly. Hold ’em by their chains.”

The soldiers went from person to person and collected the wizards’ amulets, daggers, and swords. When he came to Raisa, she shook her head.

“I don’t have an amulet,” she said. “Nor any weapons. Sorry.”

The soldier glanced at his officer, who said, “She won’t have one. She’s not gifted.”