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“Then eat,” he said. “You’ll need your strength.”

She shook her head and busied herself with the food. She didn't look at him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Lysander stood and walked away, as she reached into a pouch on her belt and threw a piece of pork up to Lance. He could, of course, hunt his own food now. But, something about him was growing on her. The horses gave low nickers to each other as they moved closer together.

Darkness cloaked them and the surrounding area. Idonea looked up towards the sky, her hand resting upon her collarbone, but clouds obscured much of the stars. She used to watch them with Jovana, lying back, naming constellations until dawn.

Before Jovana there had been Dyota. Dyota hadn't known the proper names and had invented her own: the dog with the broken paw, the woman carrying water, the star that cannot make up its mind. Idonea had written them down in a small journal she no longer owned. She wondered, sometimes, whether Dyota had kept the names.

Hours slipped past as wind sighed through the trees. The horses huffed lowly while the fire dwindled to embers.

Lysander lay motionless on his bedroll.

When she rose, her muscles protested but obeyed. Lance soared silently ahead of her into the trees. She made it halfway to the forest’s edge. A hand clamped over her mouth.

Idonea jerked violently. Cold shock slammed through her chest. Too fast, too close. Her dagger never cleared the sheath.

He pulled her sideways into the dark, sending her off-balance.

“Don’t try that again.” It was Lysander. His warm breath tickled the back of her neck.

Lance darted towards them and hovered close, his body poised to attack. Idonea struggled underneath Lysander’s left arm as it locked over the front of her shoulders.

“You can either return to the fire,” he said, “or you can continue to struggle and I’ll shackle you.” Lysander removed his hand from her mouth.

Shackles. The word hit like cold iron against bone. Idonea stopped struggling immediately. “It’s okay, Lance.”

Lance relaxed his body and flew to her side, his eyes trained on the Severant.

Lysander snatched the dagger away as he let his grip go from her shoulders. “Do you even know how to use this?”

“I can still use Current,” she said, for she still had the needle.

“But you won’t,” he said, “will you?”

A silent beat passed. She shook her head.

“Good.” He pointed with the dagger towards the fire. “You walk first, witchling.”

“You weren’t really asleep, were you?”

“No,” he said.

Lance returned to the same tree as before. They reached the dead campfire and Lysander pointed for her to sit before lying back down beside his gear, blade still in hand.

Idonea eyed Lysander.

“Don’t make me tie you to me.”

Her jaw clenched. She folded her arms across her chest and lay down on the cold earth, glaring at the dark.

For a while, there was only wind.

She listened to him breathing in the dark until she slept.

Chapter 10

Idonea woke before the sun. Cold had crept into her bones during the night. She didn’t move, and the quiet was absolute.