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Ferrell!”
    Raising his hand to her brow, with a gentle pressure Willum relaxes the tension that’s seized Stowe. “Stowe,” he whispers. “Look at me.”
    Stowe breathes deeply. Willum’s here. Willum will keep her safe.
    â€œStowe, for the moment, Ferrell sleeps.”
    â€œAsleep—for how long?”
    â€œYou must rest. Rest.”
    Stowe’s about to protest but her eyes are heavy, and as Willum gathers her up in his arms, his breath’s steady pulse drags her back into sleep.
    Stowe hurts everywhere. Fingers poke at her neck and she bats them away angrily.
    â€œBe careful, the wound needs tending.”
    It’s the fair-haired woman who’d been cowering behind Willum. Her tone is imperious, her touch invasive, and Stowe dislikes her instantly.
    â€œThis is Alandra,” Willum says, towering over the woman at her neck. “She gave you the tonic that has temporarily immobilized Ferrell.”
    And she should be grateful? Well, at least they’re out of that horrid tunnel—Stowe can feel fresh air on her face. Peering past the people around her, she sees light and smells the forest beyond it. This must be the mouth of a cave.
    Alandra…the name is so familiar. Alandra! An Eater, no less!
    â€œAlandra,” Stowe says sweetly. “Raven told me about you. You knew my brother.”
    â€œYes.”
    The Eater’s startled. Good. But just then a third face hovers into view, distracting her. Irritated, Stowe blurts, “And who exactly are you ?”
    â€œI am Mabatan.”
    Looking at the dark-skinned imp’s dancing eyes, Stowe instantly remembers. “You were the young girl in that theatre troupe. With the drum.”
    â€œThe day you saw your brother. I promised him I would help find you.”
    Stowe raises an eyebrow—as if Willum needed a waif to guide him! But Willum nods with such seriousness that Stowe forces a smile and squeezes out a very quiet thank you.
    â€œThis looks like a knife cut. Is it?” asks the Eater.
    Stowe stares unabashedly at Alandra. She doesn’t understand why an Eater would be helping them, but if Willum doesn’t consider her a threat, Stowe can’t see much harm in recounting the facts. “Raven was trying to perform a little operation on me. The gift of an enabler. They were going to make me their slave so they could use me as a weapon. I think I may have hurt them.” She looks from one set of downcast eyes to another. “Are they dead?” she says innocently, but she already knows the answer, she knew it the moment she screamed.
    Willum looks back at her, obviously unconvinced by her guileless act, but before he can speak, Stowe shifts her attention back to the healer and asks, “Eater, do you know Ferrell?”
    â€œHe was one of my teachers,” Alandra replies.
    â€œOh?” Stowe’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “Aren’t you finished?” she says, careful to inject as much menace in her words as possible. She wants this healer’s hands off her now—a student of Ferrell’s will have to earn her trust.
    â€œWe must go,” Mabatan urges, and striding to the mouth of the cave she climbs onto the biggest black steed Stowe has ever seen. Shadowed against a haze of light, she extends her hand to the Eater.
    After one last look at Stowe, the healer closes her bag and rises to take the elf’s proffered hand. Mabatan’s revulsion at her touch is palpable. So she does not trust Alandra either.
    Stowe cries out as Willum lifts her. Her battle with Ferrell has left her so bruised and battered, there is barely an inch of her that does not scream with pain. He raises her onto a chestnut stallion and winds straps from the saddle around her legs and over her hips. “You are not strong enough to sit on your own. I will hold you but you need to be secured, in case there are any…events.”
    â€œWhere did we get the