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once the woman and girl got their breaths back, they’d screamed bloody murder.
    Sebastian had been appalled at himself. From the time he was a small boy, he’d always had a shy bent, and things like this made it much worse. He’d become unsure around all women, without the smooth charm of Murdoch or the indifference of Conrad.
    At thirteen, Murdoch had had a devilish grin that had already earned him entrance under many women’s skirts in the village. At the same age, Sebastian had been the quiet lad with a sweating fistful of crushed wildflowers that would never make it to their intended.
    So he’d turned to his studies. Incredibly, even after he’d trained for war since he was old enough to hold a wooden sword, Sebastian’s mind was the strongest part of his body. He’d written treatises and scientific papers, which garnered him the notice of some of the great minds of the time—
    “You’ve seen something,” Myst said, bringing Nikolai from his thoughts.
    “I can tell you where Murdoch is.”
    “I saw him only yesterday,” Nikolai grated. Murdoch lived at Mount Oblak, a castle seized from the Horde. It was the new Forbearer stronghold, so Nikolai traced there most days.
    “Oh, yes. Of course,” Nïx began in a sarcastic tone. “Murdoch is right where you left him.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” At her blank look, he said, “About Murdoch—what did you mean?”
    “Did I say something? What did I say? How am I supposed to keep track of what I said?”
    He was losing patience. “Damn it, Nïx, I know you could tell us where they are.”
    Her eyes went wide as she breathed, “Are you psychic, too?”
    Sometimes he really hated his in-laws.
    “Nïx, I need you to help with this,” he said, biting out the words. As a former general in the Estonian army, and a current one with the Forbearers, he was used to giving orders—and having them obeyed with alacrity. This… this asking for things was excruciating.
    Yet now Nïx concentrated only on her craft, until she’d folded what looked like an intricate fire, gingerly placing it next to the other two. More pages ripped free, folding at an even faster rate. Nikolai found his attention riveted to the creations that she seemed compelled to make.
    Moments later, she’d wrought a baying paper wolf. Four shapes placed as though for a storyboard. Myst spared them no more than a glance, but Nikolai was enthralled.
    “Nïx, try harder!” Myst snapped, and Nikolai shook himself, forcing his gaze away.
    “I can’t see Conrad!” she snapped back, and lightning struck nearby.
    “What about Sebastian?” Myst said. “Tell us anything.”
    “Anything? Well, what do I know?” Nïx frowned. “What do I know? Oh! I know what I know!”
    Nikolai paced impatiently, gesturing with his free hand for her to continue.
    She shrugged. “Right now, your brother Sebastian is bellowing at someone outside a castle, demanding that they return to him, wishing it with everything that he is.” She smiled, as if pleased with herself for seeing so much, then gave a quick clap. “Oh! And his skin just caught fire!”
    5
    W hy would she run from me?
    Repeating this agonizing question over and over in his mind, Sebastian scuffed through the pouring rain and the puddles of water along the main street of the deserted village.
    At sunset, just as he’d set out to search for her, the rain had begun. Even now, hours later, it still fell with a pounding force, visibly eating away at the cobblestone grout. It struck his burned face and hands, but he hardly perceived it.
    What the hell had happened? He’d just been feeling the centuries-old weariness lifting, disappearing with her arrival. Now it had returned doubled.
    “Don’t!” he’d bellowed to her. Before he’d been forced to trace back, she’d turned to him, her eyes wide, her lips parted. She’d seen his pain, his skin beginning to burn.
    Her expression had become stricken. He’d seen that look before. It was