I woke face down in a tangle of black leaves and torn silver bark.

  There was nothing in my stomach. I hadn’t eaten yet, nor had anything to drink. That meant my retching was just the miserable, breathless convulsions of gasped-up bile and seizing muscles.

  The tears dried quickly enough. As I spat out the last of the bile I managed to sit, shaking, against the fallen witchwood.

  Tell her you belong to a High Fae.

  There had been a cold thrill that came with his words. With his… declaration. The idea of someone so beautiful, so strong and certain and fearless, declaring me as his…

  Something in me trembled at the idea. Longed for it. My heart ached at the very thought.

  The idea that I was precious. Worthy of protecting.

  And yet…

  There was too much dark.

  Fellbrook, burning.

  The amusement when he’d seen Royce.

  The malice he’d wielded as a knife, just moments ago. The words that edged on cruelty. The eyes that were too hungry.

  He didn’t mean it. He didn’t. It was a… a suggestion. A threat. Something for me to say to dissuade the other monster. Because he wants me alive, not because… not because of any other reason.

  He only wants the shard. And maybe the runebook, though he hasn’t brought that up in a while…

  He didn’t mean it. It was just… words. Empty words.

  Frosty air brushed at my hair as Horace’s voice slithered around me once more.

  It’s considered, ah, poor taste among our kind to hunt another’s prey.

  I shivered.

  Somehow, the thought that I was intended to be prey- killed, devoured, torn apart- was almost a comfort.

  If he wanted me dead, I at least knew where he stood. There didn’t need to be any more second-guessing at motives, or daring to hope that he might actually be good.

  But if his threat was genuine, was more than just empty words… my chest tightened.

  And it had been only a little while ago that I’d been thinking of his hand on mine, of his laughter and the way his eyes captured mine and the way he said my name.

  It’s been five days. Five days. Salt, is that really all it’s been?! It's felt like a lifetime!

  Five days. Too short a time to be thinking of… of anything like that.

  Words. Just words. A threat to wield in the face of death.

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  All the same, my heart wouldn’t stop hammering.

  Focus.

  Teela. Find Teela. Nothing else matters. Not now.

  I gripped the cool, once-smooth bark and dragged myself upright. My legs were shaking. My arms felt as though all strength had been drained out of them. But I managed to make it upright.

  Got to find Teela. He said there’s still time.

  I staggered a few steps away, then froze with a sharp intake of breath. Something behind me had hissed. Barely louder than a whisper, or than the rustle of air through leaves, and yet…

  I turned slowly, hardly daring to hope.

  For a moment my heart fell. The tree was still split savagely in half, still torn and ravaged.

  And then… twitching along the rotted grass, almost like the heads of frightened snakes… velvet leaves.

  Reaching for me.

  I knelt beside the branch with a sob. Stretched my fingers out to touch the trembling black, and they twisted around me with aching slowness. Whispered.

  “You’re alive,” I moaned, laying my other hand on the glassy bark. “You’re alive, you’re alive…”

  Was this this rune? Luridel? Did I… revive it? Heal it?

  The witchwood was still ashen and ravaged, but… there, in some of the cracks and holes, I could see substance. Something that hadn’t been there before. I peered closer. Slid my shaking fingers into the wounds.

  It was bark. Not glassy, not silver, but supple and the color of a bruised cherry. It felt almost like freshly tanned leather. I held my breath, feeling the unusual wood and wondering what exactly I had done.

  The red bark was sparse; just shadowy glints of crimson here and there. It looked like it had begun to knit itself deep within some of the tree’s tears. I could make out lush red fibers stretched out, almost bound to the glassy witchwood flesh. It was beautiful… and a bit eerie.

  The leaves whispered against my fingers. Their movements were slow, and I could feel the thin velvet shivering against my skin. It made me want to weep again.

  “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” I pressed my forehead against the bark. It seemed my rune had indeed brought some life back into this poor thing. On a different morning, I would have been elated by such a marvel.

  But right now…I felt almost guilty. Was it in pain? Any wounds that I’d mended were pitiable when compared to the overall damage. I loathed the idea that I’d urged some hope, some fight, into the fallen tree when I had to then turn and leave it helpless.

  “I’ll come back,” I promised quietly. The dark pines and firs loomed overhead. I shivered and rose. The leaves wound around me… and then drooped.

  “I’ll come back. I’ll do more to help you, I promise. But… but right now someone else needs me more.”

  Trying the rune again was out of the question. And whatever fight I’d coaxed back into the one branch was far too feeble for me to even consider using it as a weapon. I flinched away as the silver and black went limp, crumpling into the dirt.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered again, then turned and hurried back towards Snowmelt.

  I caught a few glimpses of the overcast sky as I walked; enough to guess it was not yet mid-morning, which meant I hadn’t been unconscious for long. Next I managed to force myself, very woodenly and with no enthusiasm, to gnaw on a seed cake and some dried meat.

  I would be of no use to anyone if I kept fainting away. And I felt as though I was reaching the point of physical weariness that all it would take was a strong wind, rather than a burst of divine power, for me to collapse.

  Tell her you belong to-

  No.

  His voice chased me along the path. The words echoed through my thoughts; captivating and cruel, tempting and terrifying. I tried desperately to leave them in the fallen leaves and rustling pines, but they loomed like shadows in the back of my mind.

  You belong to-

  No. Teela. Only Teela. Everything else can wait.

  But, try as I might, my determination quivered like the green canopy high above. Bitter air swept along at my heels and I pulled my cloak tight. I found myself shaking from more than just the cold.

  Five days. It really has felt like a lifetime, but it’s only been five days since I left Fellbrook. I never thought I could miss something so much. Durst, and Royce, and Marion. And my home where I had people who loved me and all the good and peaceful things and… and…

  Where, in my moments of solitude and trembling quiet, there was light. Hope. A vow.

  Beloved.

  “Did you see this, too?”

  I stopped, blinking up at the swaying firs. The question had come out almost thoughtlessly.

  I dared my next thought in a voice so soft she probably couldn’t have heard it, even if she had seen this moment.

  “You set me on this path. Told Durst to leave me alone in the house, told him I had to run away by myself. You said… you said you loved me. But now… all of this… how can everything possibly be alright? How could you have wanted all of this to happen?”

  There was, of course, no answer. The forest remained silent, save for rustling leaves and creaking branches.

  I sniffled and continued walking.

  You belong-

  “I didn’t do anything wrong!” I shouted, curling my hands into fists.

  Had there been birds or insects nearby, they doubtlessly would have flown away. As it was, in this nearly-lifeless place, there was no reaction.

  But it cleared my head. Some. Eased a bit of the weight from my shoulders.

  I didn’t. Royce was dying, and I did the only thing I could to save him. I didn’t know what it all meant, I didn’t know it would bind me to him.

  I just did the best I could.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  The truth of it all quickened my steps. Urged some life back into my trembling limbs and brought heat to my chest.

  And it became my mantra once again as I forged through the forest. I ground it out over and over again between chattering, clenched teeth, and dared the memories chasing me to say otherwise.

  They did not.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong.”