Brighid caught up to us as we trudged across a wooden bridge, hollow thuds echoing beneath our feet. My pulse hammered in my neck, and sweat trickled down my palms. I was trapped in a nest of enemies with no one I could trust.
My gaze fell on a passing woman. Her skin was covered in thick paint, patterns and runes that meant nothing to me.Hardly anything covered her modesty; only a thin silk wrapped around her breasts with a matching skirt.
She shied out of our way, watching us nervously.
Quinn pulled us toward one of the huts and kicked the door open. Releasing Liam, I held the door open and watched as Quinn led my brother to a cot in the corner.
“Light a fire.” Quinn gestured to the fireplace in the center of the room. “Healing magic isn’t as effective out here.”
Brighid snapped her fingers and flames burst to life on the pile of wood. Grabbing a candle from the bedside table, I dipped it into the fire and carried it to the bedside.
Drawing a dagger from his belt, Quinn sawed through Liam’s blood-splattered shirt and the cloak Brighid had used to stem the bleeding. I winced at the sight of the wound.
The cut was jagged and deep. Carved by claws.
Quinn sat back, eyes darting about.
“What are you waiting for?” I demanded, voice shaking.
“Catalysts don’t always make it easy to cast the magic we want.” Quinn looked up at me, brow furrowing.
“What?”
“You’re hers, and he’s yours,” Quinn muttered. “That’ll work.” Turning back to Liam, he hovered his hand above the wound.
I stared at him in confusion, oblivious to what his words had meant. But they brought his catalyst, his magic, to life.
Gentle light streamed from his fingers, cascading over the gash. Liam winced, jerking out of his daze as his flesh knit itself closed. Grabbing his hand, I turned his face away.
Quinn’s face contorted with effort. Yanking his hand away, he stood, breathing like he’d run a mile.
“There,” he panted. “He’ll be fine, now.”
Brighid raised an eyebrow. “Reese makes that look easy.”
“I told you, healing doesn’t work well out here,” Quinn said, straightening himself out. “Like the shadows themselves try to stop it.”
I swallowed, remembering how it had burned when Reese had tried to heal me, how my body had rejected his magic.
Tracing my thumb across Liam's cheek, I tried to comfort him. He stared through me, eyes concealed by mist.
“What’s wrong with him?” I asked, looking back at the others.
“That.” Quinn shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Let me.” Brighid motioned me up. Reluctantly releasing Liam’s hand, I stepped away, letting her take my place by his bedside.
A door creaked, and I spun around, hand flying to my blade. The cottage’s door slid open as a shardwolf pushed into the room.
Quinn tutted. “Let yourself in, why don’t you?” He reached down, running a hand between the shardwolf's broken horns. One of his yellow eyes flicked to me. “You need to come with me.”
“Why?” I stepped back. “Am I to be your prisoner?”
“I guess we’ll find out.” He motioned for me to follow him.
I glanced back at Liam. Brighid met my eye. “Go on. Your brother’s not going anywhere.” When I didn’t budge, she sighed. “I’ll take good care of him, I promise.”
My bottom lip trembled. I couldn’t muster a clever response. Nodding, I followed Quinn outside. The shardwolf padded along beside us, sticking to Quinn’s leg like a well-trained hound. A hound as tall as a horse.
