“If so, it’s hidden. There were a few spears in the practice area and a couple of swords that Tori uses.”

“Not exactly the magical artifacts I was hoping for.”

“Do you want to search it yourself?” she asked.

“No time. We have to find the location the Masons are using to build the portal before it opens and we’re screwed.”

As soon as he said the words, Grace went pale and got a distant stare like the one she’d had right before telling him she thought her family was dead.

It had taken all his willpower not to tell her the truth. Blake was still alive. She still had a brother who loved her and missed her. Her mom hadn’t survived the Synestryn attack, but Torr had managed to save both her and her brother that night.

The night he was paralyzed.

Dark, furious emotions seethed just below the surface. He couldn’t think about that time now—not when there were so many people who needed him to be at the top of his game.

Torr reached for Grace, both to comfort her and to soothe himself. There was magic in her skin, and he wasn’t above using physical contact to stay strong and steady for her.

“What is it?” he asked.

She gave a tiny shake of her head. “Nothing. We should get going, though.”

“That wasn’t nothing. Tell me.”

“You said yourself there’s no time. Let’s just do what we need to do and get moving. East.”

“East? You sound sure. Did Brenya tell you?”

“Let’s talk about it later. I’ll go back and search her hut again for hidden storage.”

She scurried off before he could stop her. As fast as she was moving, he knew there was definitely something on her mind.

He tried to ignore the sting of insult her silence caused. There had been a time when she would have trusted him enough to tell him anything.

Clearly that time was over, but he would earn her trust again. It was too precious a thing for him not to crave it.

Torr went to the lake just long enough to wash the blood and dirt from his body. The shallow cuts had mostly healed, but every time Grace looked at him, her gaze went right to the blood smeared over his skin and the dirt of the woman’s grave.

That wasn’t what he wanted her to see. Not even close. She’d experienced too much blood and pain for one short lifetime.

By the time he was done, she was waiting for him by the water’s edge. He came out of the lake soaking wet but clean. Grace tracked his movements, her color deepening with every step he took closer to her.

He’d never known a more beautiful woman. Even the Athanasians he’d seen couldn’t compare to the light that shone out from Grace’s soul. If he lived another thousand years, he would never tire of looking at her, never tire of the desire that reddened her skin and made her dark eyes glow.

She tracked him all the way to the shore. Even though the water was cool, he felt warm everywhere her gaze touched.

His wet, charred, tattered jeans had seen better days. He needed a needle and thread to repair the opening Grace had cut along the leg, but at least they covered him and kept his swelling erection in check. As much as he wanted to lay her down and see if the languid expression on her face was the invitation it appeared to be, there were more important things they needed to do. Less pleasurable but definitely more vital.

“Did you find anything good?” he asked.

A smile built along her lips, slow, lazy and brimming with the promise of paradise. She didn’t have to say a word for him to know what she was thinking.

“I meant in Brenya’s hut.”

She blinked a couple of times, casting off all traces of the delightful ideas that were running through her head. “No. Nothing. I did find another shirt for you, though. I think one of the women made it for you.” She held up simple sleeveless shirt made from some kind of loosely woven fabric. “It’s not hemmed yet, but I figure it’s better than nothing.”

Torr slid it on over his head. The fabric was softer than it looked, and it fit perfectly. “Remind me to thank whoever made this.”

“Let’s just hope we all live long enough to make that happen.”

He strapped his gear to his body, sliding the Mason’s hammer into a simple leather loop he’d tied on his belt. The heavy weight of it tugged at his jeans, but it was a small price to pay for having the weapon handy. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes. We need to head east. To the lake.”

“The village is to the south.”

“I know, but Brenya’s map is headed east. To the lake.” She tapped her temple. “And you can’t find it without me.”

“I can. And I will.”

“How long do you think that will take? How long do you think the village has? How long can Brenya keep doing what she has to do to keep everyone safe?”

He hated that she was right. “I’d rather take you south, back to the others.”

“If Brenya had wanted me with the others, she would have taken me along. She didn’t because you need me to help you find the building site.”

Torr didn’t see any plan to refute her logic. “Fine, let’s go. But as soon as we find where they’re building the portal, you’re going right back to the others.”

She said nothing, but her satisfied smile spoke volumes.

He made sure they had what they needed and that Grace wasn’t carrying too much weight. As soon as there was no more reason to delay, he set a steady pace east.

Within a few hours, he began to see frequent signs of Hunters passing this way. The forest was crisscrossed with sheared paths in the foliage and gouge marks in the ground.

He could hear Grace at his back, only an arm’s length away. She kept up with him, but he could tell when he was pushing her too hard by the change in her breathing. He slowed down as they banked up a steep hill, pausing several times to listen for signs of danger on the far side.

“Rest a minute. I’ll be right back,” he whispered, then slipped off to scout the other side of the hill before she could argue.

He saw nothing but dark, glittering trees stretching out across the valley. The angle of the suns made the metallic leaves shine and shielded the forest floor from sight.

Even though he couldn’t see any danger, his instincts whispered to him that it was here.

He waited, patiently scanning the area, giving whatever was down there time to make itself known. He gathered a few sparks of power from the earth beneath him, marveling at the way it felt so different from the energy back home. These sparks were hotter, with more sting to them, but it took more of them to do what he needed.