“Once we find a way to see in the dark and fight past the familiars?”
“Right.” He sighed. “She might be distracted by the witch hunters camped at her door.”
“But you don’t believe that.”
“No. We are here in her grasp. She’ll cause what misery she can before the end.”
Her chest constricted and her breathing grew shallow. She didn’t want this to be the end. She wanted to see Casrian again. She’d fucked up everything there. She never should have told him about the trees or let him see the tracking trick Tilly hadshowed her. It had put him in an impossible position. She’d been hurt by his rejection and she’d lashed out. He hadn’t been the one to put her in irons though. He’d made a sheath for her knife, told her she reminded him of starlight and given her a blessing sealed with a kiss.
There wasn’t any future there. He was right about that. Even if she did make it out of here alive, what future could there be for them out in the real world? He was a witch hunter, the grandson of a duke, a baron. She was the outcast daughter of a witch. She was feral and strange and didn’t belong anywhere except the woods. He thought she’d hallucinated her ability to talk to the trees. He’d call it witchcraft if he believed it was real.
Still, she wanted to see him again and…and…she just wanted to see him.
She wanted to know that her mother was safe.
It seemed impossibly unfair that her mother should lose her husband and her home and her sight and her only child. She hoped Casrian survived even if she didn’t make it. He would take care of her mother. She knew he would. Duty and guilt would compel him if nothing else.
Her mother would take care of him too.
“Tell me about something good,” she said to Asher, needing the distraction from the direction of her thoughts.
“Something good…” Asher’s hand tightened on hers. “I have a daughter.”
There was such warmth and joy in his voice when he said the words, it took her a minute to realize the implication.
“A daughter,” she repeated, mouth gone dry.
“She’s only four months old, but she’s a holy terror. We haven’t slept a full night since she was born. I was almost happy when we were called for patrol.” There was a catch in his voice. “I thought it would be a chance to catch up on sleep. My mother-in-law came to help. I suppose she’ll stay now.”
He fell into a heavy silence and she swallowed past the lump in her throat. “What does she look like?”
“My mother-in-law?” There was a note of amusement in his voice.
She nudged his shoulder. “Your daughter.”
He sighed. “She’s the most beautiful infant to ever grace this world. Pink cheeks and the softest blond hair. She has the longest eyelashes and the most perfectly formed nails. She looks like an angel when she sleeps…which is not nearly often enough. Cala. We named her Cala, after my sister, who passed two years ago of a fever.”
“It’s a beautiful name.”
“It means fire in the old tongue.”
Something about that pulled at her attention. Fire. A way to kill the demon who would surely come to them soon. Sword. Holy water. Fire.
Her knife was lost, and there was nothing holy to be found in this place, but fire…
“Asher.” She twisted around but, with her hands bound, she couldn’t reach it. “I need you to put your hand in my pocket.”
He turned toward her. “Which one?”
“My left hip…I don’t know if it’s still there.”
He fumbled for a moment and then his hand stilled. When he withdrew his fingers, he was silent for a long moment. “Is this what I think it is?
“It’s a charm.” One Casrian had missed. Tilly had given it to her days ago when she’d brought her the eggs. It hadn’t been with the others. “It’s to start a fire when the wood’s wet.”
“We can’t use a witch’s charm against a witch,” he said, sounding just as judgmental about it as Casrian would have been. His captain would be proud.
She found his hand and took the charm from him before he decided to do something stupid like throw it into the dark.
