When the knife’s tip stuck inside the circle, the guys cheered. Quain increased the pace of the swing. Again, I struggled to find the right release point. Eventually, I hit the mark. Then Quain became creative with the motion. Pulling on the ropes, he resembled a puppeteer. The board moved up and down and side to side. Once I hit the target, he changed the speed or the motion or both.

I hated to admit this, but I enjoyed the challenge. Belen no longer offered advice. Either that, or I didn’t hear him. My world shrank to me, the knives and the moving red circle.

When the light faded, Belen stopped the session. “That’s a good start.” He clapped me on the back and almost knocked me to the ground. “Kerrick was right. You are a fast learner. Soon, you’ll be dangerous with those knives.”

“As long as my opponent stands forty feet away,” I said.

“One thing at a time. After you mastered the art of throwing, I can teach you how to fight with and defend against a knife.”

We returned to the cave. My arms ached from the exertion. My stomach grumbled for the first time in days, although my appetite soured when Kerrick entered. Mr. Ghost of the Forest. He could run circles around that training camp with no one the wiser, yet he wouldn’t. Bitter? Who me?

I forced half a bowl of Loren’s stew down my throat before crawling under my blanket.

Voices whispering intently woke me sometime later. I guessed by the low light that the fire had burned down to embers. After a few minutes, I identified the voices as Kerrick’s and Belen’s. No surprise.

“…never agree to heal Ryne if you don’t show her some kindness,” Belen said.

“What do you call teaching her how to move through the forest, or how to throw knives?”

“Survival skills because we put her in danger.”

“And locked in a jail awaiting execution wasn’t dangerous?” Despite the whispering, his sarcasm rang clear.

“You know what Tohon’s capable of. I’d rather she go to the guillotine than be captured by him.”

A flurry of fear swirled at his words. That didn’t sound good. Not at all. No answer from Kerrick, which made it worse. I wished I could see his face.

“I helped her find that girl,” Kerrick said in a more subdued tone.

“Doesn’t count since Avry made a deal with you.”

“But she’s being so stubborn. And we’re running out of time. Every day he’s trapped in stasis is another day Tohon and Estrid have to strengthen their armies.”

“Even if we reached him tomorrow, it won’t matter. She’ll refuse to heal him and then what do we do?” Belen asked.

Silence.

“It’d be better to take the time and show her what happens to the people under Tohon’s rule.”

“No. Too dangerous.” Kerrick sighed. “There has to be another way. She’s too smart to believe those rumors about Ryne, but I don’t know why she won’t agree.”

“There’s another reason why. We need to find out, but she won’t open up with you being all stony silence and brooding anger. Jael’s been gone for four years…she’s not—”

“Don’t start.” Boots scraped on the ground. Footsteps faded.

Belen settled into his blankets with a muttered curse. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep. I wish I could say the same thing. Their conversation replayed in my mind.

I wondered who Jael was. Although it was better for me if Kerrick kept being a cold heartless bastard. He made refusing to help Ryne easy. Belen had been right; I had many other reasons to hate Ryne besides the rumors.

When I’d apprenticed with Tara, she told us about the time when Queen Alvena had requested her to heal King Micah. After traveling across the Nine Mountains, Prince Ryne blocked Tara from seeing his father, claiming healers were unnatural and upset the world’s balance. Disease and sicknesses were nature’s way to regulate our population.

Ryne’s reasons had sounded like bullshit to me. Ryne wanted his father’s throne, not natural order. Tara had said he’d been nasty, rude and had his guards escort her from the castle even though it was late at night. He hadn’t allowed her to talk to his mother, either.

It was pointless to share this story with Belen. He’d been countering all my objections about Ryne, explaining away all his bad behavior. I wondered if he knew about Ryne’s dislike of healers even before the plague. But, if I thought about it, it wasn’t up to Belen or the others to change my mind about Ryne. That was Ryne’s job. Too bad he couldn’t speak for himself.

My thoughts blurred until sleep took over. Images of Noelle at various ages haunted my dreams. I tried to reach her, but giant flowers kept blocking my path. She yelled for me to save her. Shoving petals out of the way, I muscled closer to her. When I was about to grab her, vines circled my wrists, stopping me. I struggled but they tightened, pulling me back. The vines grew from Kerrick’s arms and twisted around me until I couldn’t move.

My dreamworld melded with reality when I woke.

Kerrick knelt next to me, holding my flailing wrists. “Easy. It’s just a dream.”

I stopped fighting.

He let go and sat back on his heels. “Nightmare?”

“Something like that,” I mumbled, still half-asleep.

“Is your sister’s name Noelle?”

“Yes, why?”

“You were yelling her name.”

“Oh.” What else could I say to that?