I slept all morning and into early afternoon. When I woke, joy washed over me like sea spray, prickling with frantic energy. It took me a moment to realize it was Res, the link between us strong enough that his emotions flowed almost seamlessly into me.

I’m okay. I sent reassuring waves along the cord, guilt twisting in my stomach. Had he felt my pain last night? My fear? From how frantic his energy was, it seemed so. But why hadn’t I sensed him when I woke last night? I eyed the murkwood vial on my bedside table. Had the drug numbed more than my pain?

When the healer changed the bandages on my hand, it took a good minute for me to convince myself to look.

The worst spots were swollen and blistered, the best merely an angry shade of red. The shape of the key was still discernable on my palm, and the skin was sensitive and stung all over, but I kept silent. Along my forearm, the old scars gleamed.

I stared at the burns, confused and a little unsettled. They’d healed considerably already. I wasn’t complaining, but what in the Saints’ name had happened? Maybe the fire hadn’t been as hot as I’d expected. Maybe I’d grabbed the key fast enough to prevent the worst. I turned my hand over, inspecting every inch.

If I didn’t know better, I would have said it looked like the work of a sun crow. But that was impossible. Still, I couldn’t shake the quiet voice that whispered this wasn’t normal. It was magic, magic I didn’t understand.

A servant had brought me a change of clothes, and once the healer finished applying new bandages, I changed, and she granted me leave without asking questions, despite her confused expression.

Kiva followed me out, and I sucked in a lungful of fresh air as we stepped outside. Mist clung to the air, obscuring some of the moving figures in the training grounds. We skirted the edge, ignoring curious gazes, and returned to our room.

Someone had done their best to rearrange it. It looked nearly spotless, as if nothing had happened. Only the whistle of wind through the cloth-patched window remained to mark the incident.

Exhausted from keeping vigil at my bedside, Kiva collapsed onto a couch and promptly started snoring. I could tell she was worried about Auma but trying hard not to show it, and we were both on edge. Tonight, we would break into the room I’d discovered. Tomorrow night, we would run for our lives.

A flash of color at the edge of my vision made me pause. A vase of bright-red roses sat on the dining table beside a small box with a note attached.

Tension crept into my neck as I crossed the room and opened the card.

Thia dear,

In case you’ve lost your other ones.

Razel