Willo inclined her head and made the sign of the Maker. “Briar Rose, welcome to our fire. Please share all that we have.” The upland greeting to the guest.

“I’m thirsty,” Raisa whispered.

Willo maneuvered Raisa into a sitting position, supporting her with an arm about her shoulders. Elena raised a cup of water to Raisa’s lips.

She took a long swallow. It burned her lips and tongue and scalded her throat, bringing tears to her eyes. She shook her head, refusing more. “It’s too hot!”

Willo and Elena looked at each other, and both nodded.

“It’s the poison,” Willo said. “It confuses the nerves in those who survive. Hot things seem cold, and cold hot. Some say it’s like being set aflame.”

“Do you know what it is? The poison, I mean.” Raisa looked from Willo to Elena.

“It’s made from tree fungus,” Willo said. “It grows on the north side of slopes. We use it sometimes to harvest fish for smoking.”

Elena offered the cup again, and Raisa did her best to drink, ignoring her reverberating nerves. Afterward, she ran her tongue experimentally over her lips, and was surprised to find them unblistered. “How long…how long does this last?”

Willo shrugged. “Hard to say. Most don’t survive.”

Elena set aside the cup when it was clear that Raisa would drink no more. Her grandmother, who was always so calm, seemed twitchy and nervous.

“Let me take a look at your wound, as long as you’re awake,” Willo suggested. “I’ve packed it with snakebite root, though it’s a bit late to draw the poison.”

Obediently, Raisa lay down on her stomach, cradling her face on her arms. Willo drew up her shirt and cut the bandage away from her wound. Elena fetched a pot of hot water from the fire.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Elena asked, sitting down next to her again. Her grandmother was always one to go straight to the point. “Who attacked you?”

“Only if you feel up to talking about it, Your Highness,” Willo murmured.

Raisa fought back a prickle of unease. This was her grandmother, after all, and Willo was known throughout the Spirits as a gifted healer. Surely she could trust them. She’d always felt safe and cared for in the upland camps, away from the politics at court.

Yet she felt besieged by enemies—so much of what she had once believed had turned out to be false.