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“You killed her.” The words were abrupt, obviously irritating the back of his throat for some time.

“I did.” She breathed. “But I didn’t want to.” She waited, though Luka never responded. “Thank you for giving me the graft.”

“You didn’t kill me,” he said. “Mama said you would, but you didn’t.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” There was a lull again. “Do you want me to help you?”

“It’s so bright,” he whined. “I can’t make it stop.”

Lily forced a few blinks. It was completely dark other than the little light from the moons. “I don’t see—”

Just in front of her, nestled into the ground was the faint glow of a necro aura coming off a fern. The tips of its leaves had browned, and when she took it into her hand, the plum vapor reached toward Lily, swirling around her fingers. It poured down beneath the dirt like a falling mist when she pulled away. Other auras popped up in the forest, from the tops of the trees to under the river. Some bright, some muted.

Death. There was little, but it was there. What she couldn’t see was what Luka could.

Life. And here, on the peninsula, there was so much of it.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Here.”

Lily followed his voice, finding him kneeling at the base of a tree near the cabin. He glanced up at her, his eyes hidden by her sunglasses the Stalker took from her.

And he called me a thief. She sat beside him. “Do you know what you’re seeing?”

“I see it in everyone. Mama has some flowers in the castle that glow with it too but never this much.”

He already had his cloak wrapped around his body like a blanket. She sighed, gritting her teeth through the discomfort of the idea. She bit the sleeve of her jacket on her good arm and squirmed out of it.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Other than enough pain to punish me for my poor decisions? Nothing at all. “Here.” Lily placed the jacket over his head. “Maybe this will help.”

Luka positioned it to a point where it seemed to please him.

“Is it helping?”

“It’s better.” He slumped to the ground, curled under her jacket and his own cloak. Lily hugged her knees close. This part of the continent was warmer than the mountains, but there was still a chill in the night air that became apparent when she thought about the comfort of her bed. She puffed out her sorrow with an exhale and closed her eyes.

They said nothing else, and sleep took them both.

Lily awoke to a ray of morning light. This time, she remembered her broken hand, taking care to adjust herself slowly.

Luka was gone.

A splash bounced between the trees. Lily followed the sound past the dilapidated cabin, finding Luka tossing rocks into a shallow section of the river. He had stripped himself of the ratty robe, revealing a pair of pale-yellow pants and a white, long-sleeved tunic rolled to his elbows. She watched him silently until he noticed. He froze and shyly rolled down his sleeves. The smile on his face died completely.

“It’s so warm. Where are we?”

Lily rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “The Alokyian peninsula.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“It’s the first place that came to mind when I used the graft.” The answer reminded her just how far she was from her friends. She needed to return them both to the center of the continent as quickly as possible. But everything throbbed horribly. Her cheeks were tender to the touch, her wrist splotched with purple bruising. She was exhausted, filthy, and wounded.

I need more rest…

She sat at the edge of the river. “You’re in better spirits today.”