evidence of others moving through these mountains. They’ve done well to stay concealed, but their tracks lead me to believe it’s not a small party—and they are likely not here for amicable reasons.” Lazarus sighed and cursed the damned noble brats. He had no doubts in his mind that if another group had entered these mountains, it was because they’d sent a hunting party straight for him. Claudius must truly be deteriorating for them to grow this bold.
“Thank you for the warning,” Lazarus said. “We’ll be leaving soon. Make sure the boy is ready if you still want me to take him.” He was already contemplating how fast he’d be able to get Quinn on a horse before this meeting; talking to Thorne only solidified that it was time. They’d gotten what they came here for and then some, but in Quinn’s condition, the journey out of the mountains wasn’t going to be easy.
Thorne chuckled. “I know your dislike for him, but he will serve you well in the coming trials.” He paused. “Take care with the girl. I don’t know how this will play out, but I’m interested in hearing Vaughn’s reports of what becomes of your situation.”
That’s one way to put it, Lazarus thought dryly. Draeven stepped around him and moved to leave without needing to be told. Lazarus held up a hand for him to pause.
“I need you to send a message out to Tritol. I have a feeling we’ll be bringing some unwanted guests to their doorstep,” he said.
“Consider it done,” his left-hand replied, descending down the ladder without another word. While his anger about Quinn’s situation might be problematic, his second knew where his place was at all times.
“We appreciate your hospitality this past week,” Lazarus told Thorne, and the other man only shook his head.
“Don’t forget our alliance,” he said. Lazarus nodded and began to descend when he spoke again. “And Lazarus”—Thorne paused—“may the Gods be with you, my friend.” In a whisper so quiet Lazarus hardly heard it, he added, “for both our sakes.”
Neiss
“People say to never trust a snake, but it is not the animal itself that is at fault—but the man who chose to back it into a corner.”
— Quinn Darkova, vassal of House Fierté, fear twister, Master of fear
Quinn’s eyes opened and focused on the patchwork of straw-like greenery that was the ceiling. Her muscles screamed as she groaned and moved to sit up.
“Oh no, dear, don’t move so fast.” Lorraine, who’d been across the tree hut quickly packing her things away, turned and rushed to Quinn’s side.
“What—” Quinn stopped and licked her dry lips. She felt like her tongue had swollen to the size of an andafruit.
She felt a hand pressing to her forehead and then heard Lorraine’s voice. “Your fever has broken,” she said with a sigh of relief, “and just in time too.”
“Just in time for what?” Quinn asked, blinking furiously, trying to bring the rest of the ridiculously bright space into focus. The more she did it, the less the light seemed to bother her.
“We’re leaving Cisea,” Lorraine said. “Master Lazarus came down from the mountain with you early this morning. He’s been with Thorne and Draeven since. Dominicus just got word that we’re leaving before twilight.”
Quinn shook her head and then moved her legs out from under the covers they’d piled on top of her. “Oh no, don’t get up just yet. Rest as much as you can,” Lorraine said quickly, pushing the covers back over her body. “We’ll be riding on horseback for several hours today before we break. It’ll take us a few days, at least, to get back out of the mountains.”
“I’m fine,” Quinn insisted, pushing the covers back once more and getting to her feet. She stared down at the burlap shirt and loose black trousers. Shooting a look Lorraine’s way, the other woman sighed and nodded.
“Yes, I changed you,” she said, answering Quinn’s unspoken question.
Quinn narrowed her eyes and shifted on her feet. “Thanks,” she replied, unused to saying the word.
Quinn sensed Lorraine’s attention on her as she untied the laces of her trousers and redid them tighter so that they cinched to her hips. As she moved, the oddest sensation came over her … like there was something under her skin. It prickled along her spine with unrest. Quinn shifted, noting that along with that itchy sensation, there was something else that felt sore and achy. Almost as though she’d been burned and then healed. She knew that feeling