The clamor fell behind as they traveled more deeply into the forest. She was having trouble remaining on her feet, and both the king and Enver practically carried her. After a time, Enver halted.

“Muna’reyes,” he whispered.

Karigan, focused on maintaining invisibility, was not even aware of Mist’s approach. She only realized the mare was there when Enver and the king broke contact with her—the king so he could mount, and Enver so he could lift her up onto Mist’s back behind him.

“Your ability,” Enver said. “Make you, your king, and Mist vanish.”

“What about you? And Lord Fiori?”

“Muna’reyes! Tesh, tesh!” Enver cried.

The mare bounded off, and Karigan grabbed King Zachary around his waist so she did not tumble off. Remembering herself, she called on her fading ability once more and became aware of little else than keeping them invisible, and clinging to the warmth that was her king.

FLAMES ENTWINED

Zachary could not see the horse, he could not see himself, and he could not see what lay in the woods around him. He could feel the mare surge beneath him, that her stride was sure and effortless, and considering the natural terrain, smooth. He felt Karigan pressed up against his back, her arms around him in a death grip. Of anything, she was the most real, but doubt that any of it was real remained strong, for whatever Grandmother’s knots had done to him made him question everything.

The invisibility of the horse, of him, was Karigan’s doing, he tried to tell himself, not some spell of Grandmother’s. It was night, so the dark of the woods was natural. Still, he doubted. Perhaps it was all a ploy to make him think he was free, and at any moment, the truth would be revealed that he was still in Nyssa’s workshop and the torment of pain would begin again. And yet, it all felt so real.

The horse suddenly burst out of the woods—the world opened up and stars appeared above. Cold air rushed over him. Karigan leaned more heavily against his back, and he placed his hand over hers, which were clasped around his waist. They were icy.

He glanced toward the sky and detected a large, winged form gliding against the stars. Enver had told him a gryphon would be escorting them. Had he not witnessed the gryphons fighting the aureas slee, he’d be more certain this was all a deception of Grandmother’s.

His very soul exhausted from being so long a slave and captive, his body beaten and tortured, he was slumped over the mare’s neck by the time she slowed to a walk. Before he could rouse himself to stop her from stepping into a wide crevice, she went forward. They did not fall and ended up on an ordinary flat, rocky area. A woman stood there looking about.

“I know you are there,” she said, “though I cannot see you. Galadheon? You can cease your fading.” The gryphon alighted next to her, folded its wings, and sat. “Galadheon?”

The horse once more became visible beneath him. He could see his hands. “Nari? Is that you?”

Karigan groaned behind him, her hands slipping away from him. He did not turn in time to catch her as she fell from the horse.

“Karigan!” he cried.

Nari rushed over and half-caught her before her head hit the ground. Zachary dismounted. He’d seen Nyssa kick Karigan, but did not know how badly she was hurt. He knew the use of her ability also took much out of her.

“Help me get her to the blankets,” Nari said.

They carried Karigan between them, and when they reached a bedroll spread on the ground, Nari said, “Let us lay her down on her belly.”

“Her belly?”

“It is best.”

When they did so, he saw that a darkness stained the back of her shirt, or perhaps it was shadow. Then he gazed at his hands. “Nari,” he said, a quaver in his voice. They were sticky with blood.

“There is not much we can do for her until Enver returns.”

“But she’s bleeding—she could be badly wounded.”

Nari placed her hand on his wrist. “She was wounded a few days ago, yes. The lacerations must have reopened. She needs Enver’s skills. Our meddling will only make it worse.”

“But—”

“Peace, Zachary.” She went to the mare, placed her hands beneath her forelock, and spoke softly to her in Eltish. The mare then turned on her haunches and bolted back toward the forest. Zachary half-sat, half-fell beside Karigan. She was shivering and he pulled a blanket over her. He took her icy hand into his.

“She is freezing,” he told Nari. “We need a fire.”

“We are too close to the forest.” She knelt beside Karigan and touched her forehead in much the way she had the mare’s.

Zachary started to remove the cloak he’d taken from the dead guard to spread over Karigan.

“No,” Nari said. “You, too, need warmth. Food and drink, as well, it appears. We’ve other than cave fungus here.” She removed her own cloak and placed it over Karigan. “Rest while I fetch a waterskin and food for you.”

“What was done to her?” Zachary asked. He knew she’d been caught in Nyssa’s clutches for a time, but could only guess at what she might have endured.

Nari gazed down at saddlebags piled on the ground. “It is not pleasant.”

Zachary swallowed hard. “Please tell me.”

He expected the worst, and what she told him was bad enough. She explained why Karigan had gone into the forest, how she was captured, and what Nyssa had done to her. A flame blazed in his chest.

“Gods,” he muttered. The death he’d given Nyssa had been too kind. He gazed at Karigan. Her hair had fallen across her face, and he remembered the severed braid and Grandmother wanting it for something. He brushed her hair away and traced the long cut down her cheek. Why her? Why must she endure so much?