“I-I don’t know. I can’t explain it. You felt my pain yesterday, didn’t you?”
She froze.
“So, you saw I was in trouble and came to help me?” A mixture of astonishment and horror played across her face. “You can hear my thoughts?”
“Only sometimes. I caught glimpses earlier today. But this … I saw it. Like I was you.”
She trembled. Not that I blamed her, given the skinwraith and my revelation. “How is this even possible?”
“I was hoping you might be able to answer that.”
“You can see into my head?” The violation on her face was unmistakable.
“I didn’t cause it. I don’t even know how it works.” My defensiveness was irrational. “If you’ll recall, I’m not the one who bonded us.”
“Don’t remind me. I regret enough already.”
Her retort, uttered as deadpan and dryly as I might, nearly made me choke with laughter, despite the circumstances.
“We need to tell Seth about the skinwraith,” she said, not looking me in the eye. “If something turned Giulia, there could be more out there.”
“That thing was a friend of yours?” The creature had worn a dress.
“I knew her.” Seren’s voice faltered, and she averted her gaze. “Her mother was just looking for her. My friends thought she was off enjoying herself during the festivities …” Her lips tightened, before she drew in a sharp breath. “She helped me, Rykr—at the repository. She was … scared to help. And now she’s dead.”
What was she implying? That someone had murdered and turned her into a skinwraith because she’d helped? That seemed extreme, even for the Viori. “You think someone in your tribe did this to her?”
Fire lit her eyes. “I hope not, but we can’t let this happen again. If something is turning people into skinwraiths, we need to find out what—and stop it. I’ll have to tell Seth of the encounter.”
I didn’t relish the idea of going to see her tribe’s waldren again, but she was right. We had to warn them.
The combination of my wet clothing and her words sent an involuntary shiver through me, and I peered more closely at our dark surroundings. What if whatever had turned that girl into a skinwraith watched us now? I’d outrun the men who followed me to get here. And despite them being my enemies, a strange pang of guilt laced the thought that they, too, could be exposed out here.
As we neared the cluster of tents, including her tent, Seren stumbled, and a deep ache flared from my side—a phantom pain, since I had no injury there. I steadied her before she could fall. “I think you have a few broken ribs.”
“You feel that, too?” she asked, gasping.
“Yes. Why don’t we go to your mother first? Your sister might alert others. She’s an officer in your Vangar, right?” The connection between us was all-consuming. Her pain bled into me, real and raw, as if the bond had made us one being split into two bodies. And if it was this strong now, what would it be like in a month? A year?
She locked eyes with me. “Tell me the truth, Rykr. Why were you out here? I went back to the tent and you were gone. Were you trying to escape?”
My jaw set. “I was, but I changed my mind. We can talk about it later. We’re almost there,” I murmured, guiding her forward, though the wariness in my chest didn’t fade.
Seren grimaced, a flash of pain in her eyes. Whatever she thought of my admission, she didn’t say.
She limped the entire way into her mother’s tent.
The tent was much larger than Seren’s, with furnishings that made it feel more like a humble but well-equipped cottage. The glow of orange firelight from the stove and several oil lamps lit the warm space. Lucia and Tara sprang from their bedrolls as we entered.
“What’s wrong?” Tara asked, reaching us before Lucia did.
“A skinwraith.” Seren winced, sitting on a plush cushion on the floor near the stove. “I stumbled across it on the way back from the festival. Giulia Bernardi was murdered—turned into one—and attacked me. Threw me against a tree. Rykr heard and came to my aid.”
Lucia went ashen. “I’ve never heard of skinwraiths near here.”
“Can people be turned into them by other humans? Or do they have to be turned by other skinwraiths?” I asked.
Lucia lifted a few bottles from a table calmly, as though mending her children was nothing new. “Anyone can be turned into a skinwraith by a sorcerer, but it’s ancient—very dark magic. Forbidden magic. The price for magic like that would be costly, and I know of no one with that skill here.”
