She shivered at the thought.
“Come on,” she said, taking his hand in hers as she led him back down the cliff paths, through the boreal forest, forgetting all about the scarp thistles. The raven flew from his shoulder and began to circle the sky above once more. But as they drew nearer to the scrin, something made Jemsin stop.
“Wait,” he hissed, grabbing her arm. Yew bleated at him. The man let her go, raising his hands. “Do you smell that?”
Eris sniffed.
The acrid tang of smoke hit her. She turned, looking in the direction of the scrin. Through the darkness, above the tops of the junipers, she could see a multitude of red sparks spitting at the sky.
Cold dread spread through her.
“No...”
The man reached for her again, but Eris was already running. Straight toward the fire.
Straight toward home.
Yew bleated somewhere far behind her.
It wasn’t long before she saw the flames themselves. Huge, ravenous flames. Orange and red. Devouring the scrin.
Swarming all around it, watching it burn, were men dressed in black, with silver blades strapped across their backs.
But that wasn’t what halted Eris’s footsteps.
It was the man being forced to his knees. Being forced to watch.
“Day... ,” she whispered.
A woman stood before him, her pale hair twisted back in a severe bun. The way she held herself—chin high, shoulders back—said she was used to giving orders. She was dressed in black like all the other soldiers, her hand gripping a silver sword as she stared down at her captive.
“Did you think you could hide from me?” Eris heard the commander say, her voice ringing out over the crackling flames.
Day held her gaze from where he knelt in the dirt.
“Where is it?”
Day didn’t say a word.
“Shall I tell you how she screamed in the end? How she begged?”
Day’s jaw clenched and for a moment, Eris thought he might lunge, but he stayed where he was and did nothing.
“Tell me where it is!”
Day stared past her. Stony and silent. Giving no answer.
The commander hit him in the jaw with the hilt of her sword. Day spat blood, shook his head once as if to clear it, then looked up. Past the woman. To the stars.
Eris saw her guardian’s lips move. Watched his mouth form the familiar words.
“‘When my enemy surrounds me...’”
It was the prayer he’d taught her. The one they recited together at night.
“‘I remember’”—his voice seemed to get louder, floating up to Eris—“‘you are with me.’”
The commander sneered at Day, drawing back her sword.
