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“Tell me where she is,” Garret demanded.

“I won’t risk your life, too!” She shook her head frantically. “It’s Kenric!”

“And it’s Mary!” Garret fumed. “Why won’t you tell me –” Suddenly, understanding filled him, followed instantly by indignation. His jaw clenched in anger. “You think I can’t defeat Kenric.”

“That’s not it,” Bria proclaimed.

But Garret knew the truth. He turned away. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll find her myself.”

“No! Garret!” Bria raced after him and attempted to grab his arm, but Garret tore loose, whirling on her.

“I’m insulted you think so little of me,” Garret said. Hurt twisted his heart. She was one of his best friends, yet had such little faith in his abilities.

“He killed an old woman.”

“I’ve killed many men. Young men,” Garret retorted hotly.

“She was weaponless! Kenric has no honor, Garret!” Bria argued vehemently. “This isn’t a contest. He’d strike at you from behind, kill you by trickery, and I don’t want a friend of mine killed.”

“I can defend myself,” Garret insisted. His pride had been wounded, and it was not so easily mended. “Are you going to tell me where she is or not?”

Bria hesitated for only a moment, carefully, thoughtfully, angrily perusing his face. Finally, she turned away.

Garret fumed. He couldn’t believe she wasn’t going to tell him, couldn’t believe she’d leave Mary out in the woods in such great peril.

But then, much to his surprise, Bria swung herself up onto the lone horse in the middle of the courtyard and held out a hand to him.

“No,” Garret insisted, something akin to panic building inside him. “I’ll go alone. There’s no need for you to risk your life. I’m a trained knight.”

Bria glanced at him and Garret saw the resolution in her eyes. “She’s my friend, too.”

Garret cursed silently and grabbed her hand, pulling himself up behind her. He snatched the reins from her hands and demanded, “Where is she?”

They searched the woods for hours beneath the light of the moon, but there was no sign of Mary or Kenric or the old woman. It was as if Bria had imagined the entire thing. She knew that was exactly what Garret was beginning to believe. At dawn they went to Mary’s home. Bria hoped beyond hope she had imagined the whole thing, that Kenric hadn’t killed some old woman and Mary was safe at home in her bed.

Bria glanced back at Garret, who was still sitting on the horse, before turning back to Mary’s door. She lifted her hand to knock, but the door opened before her knuckles could hit the wood. Mary’s mother, a thin woman with large blue eyes, stood in the doorway.

“Bria,” she gasped. “Is Mary with you?”

Dread surged in Bria’s breast. It hadn’t been her imagination. “No,” Bria said. “She didn’t return home last night?”

“No,” Mary’s mother whimpered. She burst into tears. “Oh, Bria, I don’t know what to do. You know Mary. You know she wouldn’t stay out all night.”

Bria looked in the direction of the pond. Dread filled her entire being. They had to go back and search again. They had to find Mary.

“George is out looking for her now,” Mary’s mother said.

“I’ll look for her,” Bria promised and returned to Garret. She couldn’t lift her eyes to him; she couldn’t look at him. This was her fault. She never should have left Mary.

Garret reached down and encircled her hand, pulling her up before him. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered.

Mary’s mother stood in the doorway. “I’ll stay here in case she comes home.”

But Bria wasn’t listening to either of them. She directed Garret to return to the pond. I should have stayed with her. I shouldn’t have left her alone. She pictured her friend lying dead in the road, run through by Kenric.

They reached the pond and scanned the shore, but Mary wasn’t there.

“Mary!” Bria called desperately.