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The area where I’d vomited out the ooze was dead and brown like poison had been poured onto it. A little ways away, Devira sat weeping over the now still body of Hymer, who had succumbed to his wound.

As though she sensed me watching, her head shot up to glare at me. “She killed him.”

Torvo arrived, kneeling beside us and handing over an armful of herbs to Kendara who went to work mashing them together and pressing them to my forehead. But I brushed her away, focused on Devira and her accusation.

“I tried to help him.” My voice sounded strangled. I supposed I had been almost strangled by the black ether. “That wasn’t just a normal wound.”

“The weapon that killed him was poisoned,” Torvo said evenly, glaring back at Devira.

“That was no regular battle wound,” I said, feeling a little stronger now.

“These were Rufus’s men.” Rivven’s chest rumbled as he spoke. “They were sadistic enough to do that.”

I nodded, aware of everyone watching me. But it didn’t sit right. I knew Rufus. I knew my father’s guard and the way they worked. Yes, they tortured those in the dungeons, but when they fought down the occasional rebellion here and there, it was swift and tidy. That was what discouraged others from even trying. Like their struggles were only a minor inconvenience for the guards to tend to. This…this reminded me more of the crack in the forest. I recalled how Sinsha had said Xylon was angry, and they’d dipped their weapons in the poison. If they’d done that, it stood to reason anyone could have.

When Rune had summoned me for help and to call for Ven, she had filled me in. It had been quick, but she’d included the suspicion that there had been a mole in the group. Everyone had fought as far as I knew. Everyone here looked beaten, tired, and filthy. No one stood out as having stepped aside to let others take their place. And what good would accusations do? The obvious suspect was Devira. The trouble had started after we met her. She certainly seemed to hate me enough. But if it was Torvo’s sister…I couldn’t bring myself to accuse her. Not until I had proof. Maybe if it was her, we could save her for Torvo’s sake. Maybe we could bring her over to our side.

“Everyone rushed to help you, when he was the one dying!” Devira stood now, lobbing her words like stones. Tears streaked their way through the dirt on her face in a crooked path that reminded me of the wound in Hymer’s side and the chasm in the forest.

I swallowed hard. She was right. At least it seemed that way, and I wasn’t immune to the guilt that thought triggered. Rivven held me tighter, and I could feel his hot breath on my neck as it sped up like he was gearing up to fight.

“There was nothing anyone could do for him,” Sharlyne stood, dusting off the front of her torn skirts. “I could see it. He didn’t have enough left inside. The poison had already tainted his blood and organs. But the princess could be saved.”

“And how the hells do you know that?” Devira countered, fisting her hands and rocking on her feet like she was ready to fight, but didn’t know who or what.

If she was the one who’d murdered Hymer, she was doing a damned good job of pretending she cared.

“I’m a seer,” Sharlyne explained calmly. “And part mountain elf. Though I’m glad Kendara could do the actual healing.”

I doubted that but didn’t contradict her. When she’d touched me, the poison had fled like shadow from light. I wondered how different things might have been if she’d been with us in the Night Forest.

Before anyone could say anything else, a great darkness fell from above, and Ven landed with an earth-shattering crash. Her velvety black snout squeezed between Kendara and Rivven to rest on my lap.

I smiled. “I’m okay now. Don’t worry.”

She huffed, steam roiling from her nostrils. I laughed, but when my shoulders shook, pain exploded down my chest cavity, and I winced.

“I need to stand,” I said, and Rivven helped me to my feet, hand firmly on my back.

A rushing sound filled my ears, and the world around me spun.

“Whoa,” Rivven said, tightening his hold.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the corners of my vision turned black, and I stumbled. The last thing I remembered was Rivven sweeping me into his arms and cradling me to his chest.

Twenty-Eight

Leuruna

Nyah appeared, bringing my pacing to a halt. The problem was she was out cold and lying prone on the rug in front of the hearth in my room in my mind, where I’d been waiting as patiently as I could after leaving everyone in danger.

I blinked, then rushed to her side. Her breathing was even, and she looked fine otherwise. She needed rest, and I needed to find out what had happened and make sure everyone was okay. I hurried to take over my body and felt like I was moving through sludge. Though she was resting and not fighting me for control, it felt like hours that I fought my way forward, finally clawing my way to consciousness. I took comfort in the fact that she seemed to only be sleeping. I blinked my eyes open to find Rivven staring down at me, near panic stretching his features.

“It’s me, Rune,” I croaked, trying to head off any impulse he may have to kiss me.

To my surprise, he didn’t flinch or scowl or seem any less concerned. But he did nod in acknowledgement, lifting our hands where I realized they were intertwined.

“Is she okay?” he asked.