“Aren’t you feisty?” Quinn murmured, taking a step back.
“Relax.” Brighid pushed my hand down. “We’re among friends.”
“Friends?” I spat, glaring at Quinn.
Brighid shrugged. “Perhaps friends was too strong a word. Were we in the Empire, you’d be tied to a pyre by now. In comparison, being healed is a confession of love.”
Furrowing my brow, I looked up at Quinn, the only Solheart in the room, and the only one who could have healed me. Touching my side, I felt a tender line run up my chest and arm.
When had I been injured?
Throwing the ragged blanket off me, I stumbled to my feet. “Where are we? What happened?”
Brighid stepped out of my way. “We’re in the Ceorthan Shadowlands. Because you decided to take a lively jaunt into its heart.”
I froze. It hadn’t been a dream, this time.
“Where’s Mare?” I demanded.
“She’s here.” Brighid followed me to the door. “And fine. But you are not.”
Ignoring her, I stumbled out the door into a foreign world.
No, not a foreign world.
It was familiar.
The walkways weaving through the trees, the black fronds brushing the puddles of dark water . . . I knew it. Knew these mountains hugging the horizon.
Voices whispered at the edge of my mind. Beckoning me back to them. Toward the south.
Losing balance, I fell against a lantern post and gripped it tightly, trying to anchor myself to this world where I had control of myself.
Brighid stormed out of the cottage. Her head snapped up.
It struck me how silent this place was. And how loud the stomping footsteps approaching us sounded against the ebony night.
A woman wrapped in a dark purple coat came careening around the bend and stopped dead when she saw us. She threw back her hood. Golden curls spilled loose.
Bláth’s chest heaved, and she stumbled over words between heavy breaths. “I called my mount the moment I . . . I didn’t think . . .” A smile brightened her face as she grabbed my arm. “You’re okay?”
The last thing I could truly remember was bickering with this shady woman by a fire. Did I still dream? By the saints, why was she happy to see me?
“What a charmer,” Brighid murmured. “Getting a smile out of Bláth. A real one, too.”
Bláth turned to answer, but her lips pressed into a line. The cottage door opened, and Quinn stepped out. The two Solhearts locked gazes, and silence hung between them.
“Quinn,” Bláth breathed. “Give me one reason not to kill you.”
He sighed. “If you’re going to murder me, can we do it over wine?”
Bláth leaned over me,lifting my chin so she could look into my eyes. Her corset pushed her breasts together and up, and at the angle she leaned, they were a bit distracting.
Red peeked out from her neckline—my handkerchief.
“Truly brilliant, Bláth.” Brighid sat in an armchair by the fire and crossed her legs. “Now Reese thinks we’re all dead.”
“What was I supposed to do?” Bláth dropped my chin. “I had a feeling it was something like this, and if he found out . . .”
