Marcus frowned when Keir failed to respond, his gaze shifting from my face to Keir’s. I froze, terrified that I’d gone too far. I’d lured him into this trap, but what choice did I have? The people of the village needed my help. But I’d seen his anger before. Would he support me, or—

“For the safety of our people.” His voice a rasp, Keir turned his head to look at Sal, letting me see the small muscles in his jaw clenching. “Forty days. Plan accordingly.”

Coward that I am, I avoided Keir and kept Gils at my side after the senel. Marcus had gathered all of the pack horses, and Gils and I split the supplies evenly between us. I talked to him as we worked, going through the various plagues and their treatments. I’d already prepared the letters for Othur and Eln and the messengers had left for Water’s Fall at a gallop, with strict instructions to throw the letters to the guards at the gate. I was fairly certain that within a few days, a week at the most, Gils would have help.

Gils listened earnestly, his gaze locked on my face, absorbing my words. He nodded fiercely, and repeated things back to me, constantly reassuring me that he would be watchful and that he would remember what I said.

As we worked, I was aware of a brooding presence close by. Keir had not spoken to me, but I felt his gaze scorch the back of my neck.

Keir had gathered Marcus, Joden, Epor, Isdra, Rafe and Prest near him, and they were talking quietly. I didn’t know what they were discussing, but there were occasional glances in my direction. I continued with my work, conscious of the tension in my shoulders and neck and that my feet were starting to throb.

It was only when Gils and I had finished that Keir stood, and stalked over to me. The others followed, their faces grim.

“I am ready to go.” I had one of the horses. Gils had kept the others. Keir’s eyes pierced me, but I kept my gaze steady. I’d come too far to break down now.

“You will not go alone.” Keir gestured, and Epor and Isdra stepped forward. “They will accompany you.”

“Keir, it’s too dangerous. They—”

“No.” He cut me off, leaving no room for argument. “We have seen no sick or dying. It could still be an ambush. You will have warriors by your side, or you will not go.”

“We have chosen this, Warprize.” Isdra’s voice was reassuring.

“To face an invisible enemy? What songs they will sing of us, eh?” Epor smiled. “Joden is already humming under his breath.”

Joden shrugged and everyone except Keir chuckled uneasily. Keir’s face was still a stone, marred only by the tiny pulsing muscle in his jaw.

“There is one more thing.” I paused, not sure how to phrase this request.

“Whatever it is, I am sure you will have your way, even if you have to lie to make it so.” Keir spat.

There was a pause, and the others started to step back, as if anticipating the bells. But Keir raised his hand. “No.”

Everyone stopped. Gils flushed a bright red, and was staring at his feet. My face was hot, but I didn’t drop my eyes.

“Speak.”

“We need to arrange signals. To let you know what kind of plague it is. To communicate what is happening. Because as soon as we know the kind of plague, we will need to send someone to Water’s Fall to shout the news to them. Those warbling cries, maybe?”

Joden smiled. “They are used in battle, or in the hunt, Warprize. They are not meant for talk. But let us see what we can do.”

Thankfully, with their memories, it didn’t take long to assign new meaning to the calls. I thought up as many contingencies as I could, then cleared my throat. “We need one more. For if all three of us sicken and all the villagers are dead. We must set fire to the village and kill ourselves, to prevent the spread of the disease.”

Keir’s face was stark. The others were grim. Joden spoke softly. “I thought mercy was not your way, Lara.”

“It is not, Joden. But I will not allow this illness to spread. To your people or to mine.” I looked at Epor and Isdra. “Do you understand what you are risking?”

“We do.” They spoke together.

“And do you swear to—”

Keir broke in. “You are not yet confirmed, Warprize. Do not exceed your authority.”

I glared at him. “But I am a Master Healer. They have to promise—”

“They will do what must needs be done.” Keir’s look was chilling.

I dropped my eyes and tugged at the horse’s reins. “We need to go. We are losing the light.”

We rode in silence to the point where we could see the village gates clearly. There was no change, no sign that our presence had been noted or ignored.

We all dismounted, except for Keir. Isdra took the reins of the pack horse we’d loaded with supplies. I turned to my apprentice and smiled at him. “Gils—”

Gils launched himself at me, and squeezed me tight. I heard a faint whisper in my ear. “I’s make you proud, Lara. I’s swear it.” He stepped back and gave me a smile, red hair gleaming in the sun. “Skies watch over you, Warprize.”

Marcus stood there, looking unhappy and worried. “And now is when you stuff the cloths up your nose, yes?”

I nodded, too choked up to speak, and hugged him. “Take care of Keir.”

“Always. But who will care for you?” He asked gruffly as I stepped back.

Keir was on his horse, as cold and remote as the mountains that surrounded us. He didn’t look at me as he spoke. “Skies be with you.”

I took a deep breath, and waited. Keir didn’t look down.

Resigned, I turned away. I accepted the bowl that Gils held out, and Isdra and Epor and I stuffed the cloths in our nose and mouths. “Hope they leave this part out of the song.” Epor grumbled as we moved off. I was thankful for the sharp ginger in my mouth, coming up through my nose as I breathed. It explained the tears in my eyes.

There was a noise behind us. I turned, only to see Gils take a few steps to catch my horse, who had started to fol-low us down the road. The horse protested a bit, but settled under Gils’s hand. Keir didn’t move at all, and I turned back toward the village. Isdra and Epor were right behind.

We were almost to the gates when I couldn’t take it anymore.

I stopped and looked back.

Isdra and Epor gave me a knowing look, but kept walking.

Keir was off his horse, and Marcus was next to him, his hand on Keir’s shoulder. Gils was leading my horse back to the other horses. As I watched, Keir raised his hand.

I smiled, and raised my hand as well. Then I raised the other, and slowly brought them close to intertwine my fingers to form a fist. I hoped Keir remembered when he had done that in the command tent, when he announced his intent to weave our people together. I hoped he understood.

He seemed to, since he raised his hand a bit higher in acknowledgment. At this distance it was hard to tell, but he looked stricken to me somehow. As if I’d taken all his hopes with me.

Which I had.

Tears in my eyes, I lowered my hands and turned away to follow the others. I didn’t look back this time. I didn’t trust myself not to run back and throw myself in his arms.

And I didn’t trust him not to tie me to a tree.

Long before my time, King Xy had insisted that a main road be built from Water’s Fall through the length of the entire kingdom to the border with the Plains. One of his great grandsons, either Xytell, or maybe Xykreth, had built watch forts along the road once the Firelanders had started raiding up into the valley.

Each watch fort had been heavily fortified, with stone walls and high battlements, modeled on the walls of Water’s Fall. Each with a deep well and storage warehouses for food. They’d been designed to allow a contingent of warriors to be self-sufficient in times of battle. But they had all fallen victim to the one enemy they could not hold against: Time. Walls collapsed, and the locals carried off the stone to build huts and low walls to keep in their sheep and pigs. Only a very few remained intact, and most of them were closer to the border than to Water’s Fall. While I’d read of them, I’d never seen one, since I’d never ventured more than a few hours from the city.