I flew high, surrounded by shards of metal and stone that sliced through my flesh as easily as they sliced through the air. My uniform was shredded in seconds and my skin became slick with blood. I rose skyward for so long it seemed as if I’d reach the stars, but gravity soon reasserted itself, sending me hurtling back to the ground. It was a long, long way down, and there’d be little more than a red stain and a few flattened remnants of flesh and bone to scrape up if I hit it at this speed.

I closed my eyes and reached for the wind. She answered immediately, her cold fingers battering away the stones and metal that continued to rain around me even as she provided a cushion of thicker air to impede the speed of my fall. I hit feet first and hard enough to rattle my teeth, then staggered forward and fell with a grunt to my knees. For several minutes, I couldn’t do anything more than suck air into my burning lungs as I tried to ignore the pain reverberating through my body. Thankfully, the wind still battered away the wall remnants; they rained all around me, many of them hitting so hard the ground shook under the impact. But it wasn’t the falling pieces of stone and metal that provided the biggest danger right now; it was the Adlin.

Because with the wall smashed open, they were free of Blacklake and on the run.

I couldn’t see them, but I could feel them. Could follow their progress through the impact of their steps on the earth.

Some were running away.

Some were coming straight at me.

And my rifle was who knew where; I’d lost grip of it when the wall had exploded. Which meant I was about to see if the sword was as good as the knife when it came to the flesh of the Adlin.

I pushed upright. Sharp shards of stone dug into my foot; I winced and looked down. My left boot was missing. And while it was inconvenient, it wasn’t as deadly as the loss of the rifle might yet prove to be.

I drew the sword from its scabbard across my back. The thick glass blade gleamed in the pre-dawn darkness, but it looked wholly inadequate against the three Adlin racing toward me.

I glanced around, looking for a more suitable place to make a stand. Although the immediate area was littered with huge chunks of stone and large sheets of metal, none of them were of much use when it came to cover. Not when I had to have the room to swing a sword. Now, if they’d formed a rough semicircle, it would have at least curtailed their attack options….

The thought had barely crossed my mind when the ground heaved and the big chunks of stone began to roll, gently at first but with increasing speed, into a half circle formation. The earth had heard me. It seemed that a direct connection, be it hands or feet, was the answer when it came to summoning her power—for me at least, anyway.

As the Adlin’s battle cry reverberated across the night, I spun and ran into the newly created circle. The space between the two curved ends was small enough that only one Adlin could run through at a time. It gave me time to react and kill; whether or not it would make a difference was something I’d learn in little more than a few minutes.

Because in truth, by restricting their avenues of attack, I was also restricting my escape options.

I gripped the sword tightly with both hands and waited. In the distance, through the opening in the stones, I could see the fleeing Adlin. The stained one was carrying three small bundles under his arms, and was pulling away from the other Adlin. He was protecting the children—saving them—at the possible cost of his companions.

That wasn’t Adlin behavior. They hunted and fought as one, no matter what their numbers. I’d never heard of any Adlin providing a rearguard service to ensure one of their number got away. But that one Adlin was under the control of whoever was behind this madness, and he held sway over the Adlin as a whole. Unusual or not, it was obvious they would obey their leader no matter what.

The battle cry of the Adlin bit through the air. I swung my attention back to them and took a deep, steadying breath.

I could do this.

I would do this.

The first Adlin launched himself through the gap and slashed wildly with his claws. I sidestepped quickly and swung the blade. Its sharp tip sliced across the creature’s torso, opening him up from underarm to hip. As his blood sprayed through the air, he hit the ground, rolled back to his feet, and came at me again. At the same damn time, another Adlin came through the opening. I swung the blade at the first one, forcing him to twist in midair and fall away to avoid having his head chopped off, then grabbed a fistful of air and threw it at the other. As he was punched backward, knocking the third Adlin off its feet, I ran at the first, raised the sword high above my head, and chopped it down. The Adlin twisted away, but he wasn’t fast enough. The blade hit his skull, slicing through bone and brain as easily as butter, and swept down, cleaving him from head to stomach before the momentum of his desperate leap had his body falling away from the blade’s touch. A roar of sheer fury had me instinctively ducking. The claws that would have taken my head off instead sailed over the top of it. I swung the sword again; the side of the blade hit the Adlin’s arm and cut it clean away. Blood spurted across my face, momentarily blinding me, and the wind screamed. I threw myself sideways, hitting the ground so hard that the air was forced from my lungs. I gasped, struggling to breathe, struggling to see, and all too aware that death in the form of an Adlin’s claw would be my fate if I didn’t damn well move. I twisted around. Saw, through the blood and gore matting my eyelashes, an Adlin high in the air above me. Its companion was running through the gap and had death in his eyes. I tried to get up, to scramble away, but my strength, it seemed, had fled me just when I needed it the most.

Death might be damnably close, but it didn’t have its claws in me yet, and there was no way known I’d go down without fighting to my very last breath.

I again called on the air and flung it at the running Adlin. Pain tore through my head, making my eyes water and momentarily blurring my vision. Which was probably a good thing because it meant I couldn’t see the face of the Adlin above me. But I could feel its fury and sense of triumph.

I raised the sword.

The Adlin saw it and twisted in midair, trying to avoid it. At the same time, a gunshot rang out. The Adlin’s head exploded even as the sword skewered him. His remains thumped down on me, forcing the air from my lungs a second time. This time, the pain was a blanket that all but smothered me. Darkness closed in and I knew no more.

I woke to the itch of wool against my skin and the brightness of sunshine flooding the room. For a minute, confusion stirred, but I’d barely opened my eyes when Trey stepped into view.

“How are you feeling?” He pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat down. His warm, rich scent teased my senses, filling every breath and stirring to life a fierce awareness.

I did my best to ignore it and lifted the blanket instead. It appeared I’d escaped both the explosion and the Adlin with little more than a smattering of bruises and a few healing cuts. “I’m good, considering I should probably be dead.”

“Mace thinks you’ve charmed the gods, because there’s no other possible explanation for you surviving two Adlin attacks and a wall being blasted out from underneath you.” He reached over to the small table sitting against the wall and picked up the glass oft murky-looking liquid. “He also said you have to drink all of this.”

I pushed up into a sitting position. The various muscle groups twinged in protest, but all in all, I’d come out of the whole thing better than I should have. I accepted the glass Trey offered, but the slight brush of his fingertips against mine had delight skipping through me. That weird hypersensitivity seemed to be back, and yet it lacked the overwhelming power of before. Was that because I’d gone through the ceremony of Gaia with Trey? Or was something else happening this time?

I frowned and sipped the drink; it was warm rather than cold, and tasted faintly of lemon, ginger, and an earthy but slightly bitter dash of ginseng. “I take it this is one of his potions?”

“It’s just a few herbs to boost your immunity and strength.” He scanned me briefly. While there was absolutely nothing immediately sexual in that look, desire stirred through me and found an echo in his eyes. “Blacklake might have suffered greater losses if not for you. We owe you, Neve March. I owe you.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Hardly, given I was only doing my job. What happened to the Adlin and the children?”

“The one carrying the children escaped, but we tracked down and killed the rest.”

Because the rest had been sacrificed to save their leader and the children. “And the wall?”

“Is already under repair. We’ve called in the earth witches from both Farsprings and West Range to help with the rebuild.”

I frowned again. “Why not just call in witches from Winterborne?”

“Because the masque celebrations can’t be interrupted for anything less than an attack—”

“Which is exactly what has happened—”

“Yes, but it went no further than the outer bailey in either Winterborne or here, and therefore it gives them no reason to pause or stop.” A bitter edge touched his smile. “They’ll never allow the day-to-day trials of the rest of us to interfere with the machinations and alliances the masque and equinox celebrations bring.”

“The rest of us?” I raised an eyebrow. “You, my dear commander, are one of them.”

“Just because I was born one of them doesn’t mean I remain so. Not in spirit or in heart, anyway, and that’s all that counts these days.” He leaned forward and caught my hand in his. His fingers were warm, and filled with a strength I found oddly arresting, even in my hyperaware state. “My daughter was wearing that bracelet, Neve. If you hadn’t caught on to what the Adlin were up to—”

He stopped, but I saw the fear flash through his eyes. “Why wasn’t she in the raid shelter with everyone else?”

A wry smile tugged at his lips. “She had been, but she came out with Leon, our earth witch, when I called for his help with the wall.”

So the woman who’d stood on his right while he’d battled to preserve the integrity of the wall hadn’t been just another earth witch, but rather his daughter. The long sleeves she’d been wearing had obviously hidden the bracelet.

“Were you drawing on their strength to reinforce the wall, or was it more a combining?”

“The latter. I doubt the former is even possible.”

“Oh, it is, because that’s what was happening with the three children.”

He frowned. “Three?”

I nodded. “The other child must have come in with the Adlin. The small girl with the air witch coloring and the other boy were gripping the older lad; neither of them were touching the wall, so he had to have been drawing on their strength.”

Trey sat back, and in doing so broke the connection of our fingers. And yet the heat of his touch remained, a beat of warmth that seemed to flow sweetly through my body.

“It still doesn’t explain how two small children could not only draw and control enough power to blast open the curtain wall, but do so without going insane. They couldn’t have undergone committal ceremonies, not at that age.”

“I suspect whoever is behind this plot really wouldn’t care whether his or her weapons were sane or not. And we stained don’t appear to need the ceremony to be able to use either magic, remember.” I paused and flexed my fingers, trying to keep my mind on the matter at hand rather than the man who was so close and yet so far away. “When your men were chasing the Adlin, did they notice anything unusual?”

“No.” He leaned forward again, but didn’t touch me. I wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or frustrated. “Why?”

“Because one of them was not only stained but wearing the same sort of silver bracelet as the children and the three women in Winterborne.”

“Stained?” He stared at me for several seconds, horror slowly growing on his face. “How is that even possible? As far as I know—and as far as any history books are concerned—the Adlin fed on the flesh of the dead but were never involved in the war itself. From everything I’ve read, the Irkallan basically left them alone.”

“Him being stained is not even the worst of it.” I paused, shuddering as the image of the Adlin’s face rose like a ghost to taunt me. “He had human eyes.”

“Impossible.”

“No.”

He swore and thrust a hand through his short hair. “That’s not the news we needed right now. Not when there’re also traitors in our ranks to contend with.”

“Two of those traitors are now dead, and Saska’s at least fighting the control of the queen.” I hesitated. “We can’t really ignore the possibility that the Irkallan are behind all this. Not now.”

“No.” He scrapped a hand across his jaw, the sound like sandpaper. “But if they are, then the two half-assed attempts to regain the bracelets makes even less sense.”

“Half-assed?” I raised my eyebrows. “You can hardly call the destruction of Winterborne’s gate mechanics and the walls here half-assed. They came damn close to causing untold damage.”

“Yes, and that’s what has me worried. They could have pushed their advantage, and they didn’t. They’d caught us unawares and did nothing with it. Whatever else history might have said about the Adlin and the Irkallan, it is fact that they always pushed an advantage.”

“Yes, but it’s not the Adlin behind this plot. Saska’s queen is controlling them through their leader.” I hesitated. “In truth, it’s probably the offspring of the witches who are our greatest threat right now. If the three who attacked this place are any indication, they’re capable of great magic.”

It would also, I realized suddenly, explain Saska’s comment about her captors killing her three perfect little girls. They weren’t after perfection; they wanted the stained, and the greater the staining, the better, because it appeared to indicate a stronger capacity for unrestrained power.

So where did that leave me? Half my body was stained, and yet I didn’t appear to be capable of the same sort of power those three kids had called forth.

“They undoubtedly are the greater threat,” Trey said, “but given we’ve never been able to find the women who remain missing, tracking their offspring will be nothing short of impossible. Besides, neither Pyra nor Hedra even remembered having children.”

Which was decidedly odd given Saska could. “Has Kiro sent any word about what’s happening at Winterborne?”

“Nothing more than the fact that the masque continues unheeded, and that Saska seems to have become more unstable since your departure. He’s got her under close guard at the moment—and he’s called in reinforcements from the Nightwatch to do so.”

“Really? Who?”

“I believe one of them is a friend and bunkmate of yours—”

“Ava?” I couldn’t help my delighted grin. At least she’d finally be able to see and experience life the Upper Reaches, even if only from a distance.

“Yes. He doesn’t trust that the Reaches guards have not been coerced or infiltrated, so put in a request for ten Nightwatch officers to guard major points.” He hesitated. “I believe he put in a specific request for two of your bunkmates because of your trust in them, but one is in hospital recovering from wounds received in the attack.”

My heart jumped into my throat. “How bad are the wounds?”

“Kiro didn’t say. I didn’t get the impression they were life-threatening, though.”

Relief spun through me. Not life-threatening could have meant anything, but at least he wasn’t dead. Then the rest of Trey’s statement impacted me. “If Kiro is aware of how close I am to both Ava and April, he’s read me more thoroughly than I’d hoped.”

“But not as thoroughly as he would have liked.”

I frowned. “Surely he can’t still believe I’m holding secrets that are dangerous to Winterborne? Not after everything that has happened.”

“No.” Trey paused. “But he does believe you’re the key to unlocking what’s happening.”

I snorted. “A stained Nightwatch officer with uncertain, untrained abilities and who-knows-what parentage is highly unlikely to be the key to anything, Commander.”

“And yet Kiro believes otherwise.” He hesitated again. “And be warned, he’s currently investigating your parentage.”

“How is that likely to be of any help?”

Trey shrugged. “He didn’t say. But he is definitely a man who’ll leave no stone unturned in his quest for answers.”

“Do you think he’ll tell me if he does uncover my parents?”

“Would you want to know if he did?”

“I don’t know.” I frowned. “I mean, they cast me aside like so much rubbish. I shouldn’t care—and I don’t—but I guess there is a part of me curious as to who they might be.”

“Which is only natural.”

“Perhaps, but such curiosity isn’t likely to end well. Not for me, anyway.” Of course, it was doubtful he’d actually be able to uncover any information. It wasn’t like the birth records of the stained were overly detailed—mine had nothing more than the date of my birth and the name I’d been given on being handed into state care. “But I’m glad the Nightwatch has joined us. I’ll feel less alone and out of place.”

Trey raised his eyebrows. “So my company has not been pleasing to you?”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.” I waved a hand. “For all your talk about the Upper Reaches no longer being a part of you, you were raised in that place and are comfortable there. I was not, and it was only the fact that I wasn’t there for pleasure that stopped me running back to where I belonged.”

“I know.” It was so softly said that I barely heard it. “But I, for one, am glad you didn’t give in to that particular desire.”

His words had that odd, earthy energy surging to life between us again. It was both powerful and sexual, and far more than mere attraction. It ran over me in a wave and made me burn. But again, it wasn’t just desire; it was deeper than that, stronger than that.

Something flickered in his eyes, something that set my soul racing, but it was just as quickly shut down. He thrust up from the chair and walked across to the window, staring out for several minutes without comment.

Leaving me to wonder if I’d imagined that flicker.

“Kiro wants us back tonight,” he said eventually. His voice was cool and collected. “Are you feeling up to it?”

“I’m feeling up to many things.” I frowned at his back and wondered why he’d retreated. What was he trying to keep from me? “Up to and including traveling.”

“Good.” If he heard the half invitation in my voice, he gave no sign of it. “Mace will be here in a few minutes to give you a final check. If all is well, we will leave at one.”

Which was little more than three hours from now, according to the ornate clock on the wall…. I blinked and suddenly looked more closely at my surroundings. Between the tapestry wall coverings and the richly covered furniture, it was very obvious I wasn’t in the hospital.

“Have I been placed in the guest apartments?” I said, surprised.

“No. My personal quarters.”

“What?” My gaze shot back to him, but he was still staring out the window. “Why?”

“Because it was easier; the secondary hospital had run out of room for beds.”

“So why aren’t I in the bunkhouse?”

“Until the wall is fully restored, no personnel will be staying there. All those not on duty are bunking down in the state apartments.” Though I couldn’t see his smile, I heard it in his voice. “It’s an understatement to say they’re quite enjoying the experience.”

“I can imagine, but it still doesn’t explain why I’m not with them.”

“There are well over one hundred and fifty people off duty at any one time, and only five state apartments.” He turned and sat on the edge of the sill. “Luxurious or not, the place is rather crowded.”

“A perfectly legitimate and sensible answer, but I rather suspect there’s something you’re not telling me.”

A smile ghosted his lips. “It’s nothing important.”

“I also suspect you lie, Commander.”

“Trey, at least when we’re alone. And perhaps I should have said, it’s nothing that needs to be discussed immediately.”

I frowned. “Has it got anything to do with the ceremony? Kiro said it was dangerous—”

“Any ceremony involving such deep and powerful forces contains danger for its participants,” he cut in. “Especially for those not specifically trained to guide such inductions.”

“Meaning the ceremony has caused you a problem?”

He hesitated. “I wouldn’t call it a problem. More an interesting development.”

“A statement that really doesn’t clarify anything.”

“True, but this is neither the time nor place for such revelations.” He half shrugged. “I need to get back to work. Mari will be here with a meal very soon, and I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Until then, rest.”

As if I could rest knowing that in saving me, something untoward had happened to him. I frowned at his departing back, but if he was aware of my glare, he didn’t show it.

I climbed out of bed and padded barefoot over to the window. He appeared a few seconds later and strode across the inner bailey’s yard to the smaller command center. He really was something of an enigma, and one I found rather fascinating. Not that that was hard—who wouldn’t be fascinated by a strong, good-looking man who’d walked away from everything he’d known to care for a daughter he’d held for only a few seconds? A man who’d worked his way through the ranks like everyone else, who’d gained the trust and respect of everyone he worked with, but who nevertheless seemed to guard his feelings and his thoughts fiercely, only occasionally giving them free rein when it came to his daughter. I’d spent a lot of time in his company over the last few days, and yet I still knew so little about him. He was attracted to me, that much was obvious, but he was also fighting it, and not just for the sake of the mission. There was something deeper at play here, something that was perhaps even dangerous.

What that something was, I had no idea. And if the air and the earth knew, they remained mute.

Once he’d disappeared into the tower, I retreated back to bed. But that odd restlessness had returned. While it was nowhere near as strong, it was still bad enough that I couldn’t lie down for long. The sheets were simply too scratchy against my skin. I paced the confines of the room instead, feeling like a caged animal—one whose skin was jumping, burning with pleasure and rising desire. It was so strong I was sure that if I got back into bed and closed my eyes, it would have felt as if I was actually having sex. And yet, at the same time, there was a distance to the sensations—as if it were happening to someone else and simply flowing across to me.

I swore softly, spun around on one heel, and headed into the bathroom. Unfortunately, the cold water did little to ease the growing rapture. I pressed my hands against the wall, needing its support as my breathing hitched, my body shook, and pleasure swept through me. And it was a very weird thing to be experiencing a climax and then fall into its peaceful aftermath without having to lift a hand.

I took a deep breath and released it slowly. The cold water continued to beat down on my skin, and it swept away the last vestiges of passion. While I had no idea what might lie behind the strange—if pleasurable—experience, I very much doubted it had anything to do with the wind or the fact I’d not undergone the ceremony to bind myself to the collective consciousness of all those within her. Binding might involve sex, but I gathered it also needed the guiding hand of a priestess or at least someone of great power, thanks to dangers involved. Besides, it wasn’t as if I’d heard the voice of the wind during the strange ordeal. In fact, she’d been remarkably quiet since I’d woken.

The sound of a door opening had me pushing away from the wall. I switched off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my body as I walked out.

The woman who entered was tall and slender, with dark hair, a suntanned face with a smattering of freckles across her nose and her cheeks, and green eyes that were bright and mischievous. She was carrying a tray of food, and I couldn’t help but notice one hand was as stained as my own.

This couldn’t be anyone else but Eluria, Trey’s seventeen-year-old daughter. And she wasn’t wearing the bracelet.

“Wasn’t Mari supposed to bring that tray in?” I asked with a slight smile.

“Indeed, but I saw an opportunity and decided to take it.” She placed the tray on the small side table then studied me critically, her gaze lingering on the visible portions of my stained flesh. “I haven’t met another stained person before. I was curious.”

“About what?” I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the table closer.

She shrugged. “About what your life has been like and how the staining has affected it. And about Winterborne, and what it is like to live there.”

“So you know who I am?”

“The whole outpost knows who you are, especially after you saved our butts last night.”

Meaning Trey hadn’t said anything about me to her. But then, why would he? I smiled and patted the bed beside me. “Well, answering such questions could take a while. You’d best sit.”

She grinned and did. I ate my meal, talked about my life and Winterborne, and answered her questions honestly. She then recounted her life here at Blacklake and it was obvious she adored her father and loved living here. It also became obvious she was very much his opposite in that she was open and easygoing, and yet I could see so much of him in her inner strength and determination.

We continued to talk and the hours passed too quickly. As the clock struck twelve, she gasped and thrust to her feet. “If I don’t move I’m going to be late for training.”

“Training?”

She nodded and grinned. “Weaponry and defense practices before lunch, history after it.”

“You actually like history?”

“Well, no, but Dad says that the lessons of the past should never be forgotten.”

“Your dad is a wise man.”

“He is. Most of the time, anyway.” She grinned. “Will you come back and visit me sometime? I’ve really enjoyed talking to someone who’s stained like me.”

“If I can get time off from my duties, and with your father’s permission, of course I will.”

“Good. And don’t worry about Dad—he won’t say no. He’s not as fierce and as ungiving as he makes out.”

“Only, I suspect, when it comes to you.”

“You could be right.” With a bright, cheerful laugh, she waved goodbye and all but bounced out of the room.

Leaving me to silence and some rather unsettling wisps of envy.

I pushed the tray table back to the wall and idly wondered how long it would take me to get used to the solitude of being Nightwatch again. As harrowing and as dangerous as the last few days had been, they’d also shown me another side of life. I might have felt ill at ease and out of place for the most part, but there’d still been many bright moments of enjoyment.

And it wasn’t as if the experience had ended. I still had a couple of nights to enjoy, and it really didn’t matter if I’d be spending most of that time helping to track down those connected with the plot. Two days was certainly enough time to store up some pleasant memories for the years ahead.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted my reverie, but before I could say anything, the door opened and Mace appeared.

“Ah good, you’re awake.” His gaze scanned me critically but unlike before, when Trey had done the very same thing, there was little in the way of internal reaction. “How are you feeling?”

“Absolutely perfect, thank you.”

He smiled. “You should be dead, you know that don’t you?”

“Luck does seem to be favoring me right now.”

“If that isn’t the understatement of the year, I don’t know what is.”

He motioned me to remove the towel and lie down. Once I had, he placed one hand on my forehead and another on my chest, just above my heart, and closed his eyes. Warmth radiated from the epicenter of his touch in gentle waves, but again, there was nothing sexual about it. It was, in fact, weirdly impersonal.

After a few minutes of silence, he pulled his hands away. “You, young lady, are amazingly resilient.”

“Meaning I pass the physical?”

“Very much so.” He flicked the towel back over my torso. “Although I highly recommend you avoid another encounter with the Adlin if you can. It might be a case of third time unlucky.”

I snorted. “I’m Nightwatch. It’s not like I have much choice about who I do and don’t fight.”

“Under normal circumstances that might be true, but it seems to me you’ve gone out of your way to cross their path of late.”

“It wasn’t by choice, trust me.” I hesitated. “Did you do a similar hands-on physical with the two children when they were here?”

“Yes—why?”

“Was there anything unusual about either of them?”

He frowned. “Not really—again, why?”

I hesitated. “I saw an Adlin with human eyes, and I just wondered, given these children didn’t—according to Treace—appear to speak or even understand us, whether they might somehow have been related.”

“An Adlin with human eyes? Surely you’re mistaken—it was dark, after all.”

“Maybe.” I wasn’t, but I didn’t want to start any untoward rumors either. Kiro was keeping the problems at Winterborne close to his chest, so I imagined he wouldn’t appreciate me letting the cat out of the proverbial bag, even out here in an outpost. “So there was nothing unusual about the two kids?”

He hesitated. “Their skin reminded me a little of the exoskeletons I’ve seen on some insects, but I have no doubt it was probably a result of both their severe aversion to water and malnutrition.”

“Could there be any other reason?”

He wrinkled his nose. “There are some known diseases—like scleroderma—that causes a thickening of the skin, but I could find no trace of such in either of the children.”

Which meant we’d hit another dead end—and that was damn frustrating. “Treace also mentioned a smell—did you notice that?”

He half smiled. “Even those with the dimmest olfactory senses couldn’t fail to notice it. It was so entrenched that I fear it might be a part of their physiology.”

“Have you ever come across anything like that before?”

“No.” He paused. “But I have to admit, your questions have piqued my curiosity. I’ll check the medical library and consult with some of my fellows in Winterborne. They might provide some clarity.”

“Could you let me know if you do uncover anything?”

“I will. In the meantime, you’d best get dressed. The commander will be waiting downstairs for you at one.” He glanced at his watch. “You have half an hour.”

“I’ll be there.”

He nodded and left.

Silence, I thought, as it closed in around me again, sucked.

I thrust to my feet, found my clothes—which once again consisted of a new Blacklake uniform rather than my own—and got dressed. Once I’d reclaimed my knife and my sword, I headed downstairs to wait for Trey. Watching the noise and motion of daily life here in Blacklake was far better than the solitude of my room.

Especially when that room was one of Trey’s rather than a more impersonal hospital or bunkhouse.

I walked across to the waiting speeder. The door was open, and the engine was already primed and ready to go. A nearby guard gave me a nod in greeting then spun around and walked away. I sat on the step-up and waited.

Trey must have seen me, because a few minutes later, he came out of the tower and strode toward me. I rose. “Commander, do you mind if we make a slight detour on the way back to Winterborne?”

He raised his eyebrows. “No, but why?”

“Because I want to reexamine the area where I found Saska.”

“There’s nothing there.” He tossed a small pack into the speeder and then offered me his hand. “We’ve already checked it out.”

I placed my hand in his and allowed him to help me into the speeder. His fingers held mine just a shade longer than was necessary, but this time, only a tiny flicker of that odd energy stirred. Perhaps it had been tightly leashed—at least on his side. It wasn’t like I had any great control over it—or anything, really. “Saska told me answers could be found there if we look in the right places. I don’t want to chance ignoring it.”

“She’s part of this plot. She might just be sending you on into another trap.”

“I don’t think so.” I slid into the driver seat. “I actually think she’s doing her best to help us.”

He climbed in behind me then pressed the door-close button. “I’ll have to trust your instincts on this one, because Kiro’s certainly not getting much out of her.”

“Maybe his sort of talent just doesn’t work on an unstable mind.”

I punched in the coordinates and then carefully guided the speeder through the inner gatehouse and across to the remnants of the main one. Even though a little less than ten hours had passed since the attack, the outer wall was already half rebuilt. But it would be days before the outpost was fully secure again. Trey obviously put a lot of trust in his people—there could be no other reason for leaving now. Not when he was also leaving his daughter in their care—although I rather suspected Eluria was more than capable of looking after herself.

Once we were free of Blacklake, I punched the accelerate button and kept the vehicle on an even keel as she rapidly gained speed. As the dust began to plume behind us, I said, “Your daughter came to see me this morning.”

“Did she now?” There was amusement in his tone. “What did she want?”

“To talk to someone else who was stained. Which surprised me—I’d have thought that with so many people living and working at Blacklake, there’d be others who are stained.”

“There are at least a dozen that I know of,” he said. “But it was probably the draw of someone new that had her running to your side against orders.”

I frowned and glanced around at him. “You didn’t want her talking to me?”

“Oh, I’m all for her becoming acquainted with you, but not when she’s skipping lessons to do so.” His expression was amused. “If she wishes to follow in my footsteps and become commander of Blacklake, she has to learn to obey orders. Especially if she wants to give them herself one day.”

I grinned. “I suspect following commands is always going to be difficult for her. She has her father’s determination and strength of self-belief.”

“That she has.” He was silent for a moment, and then said, in an obvious attempt to redirect the conversation, “Did Saska give any clue as to what we might find?”

“All she said was answers,” I replied. “Did you take the bracelet from Eluria?”

“Yes. The outpost will be safer if that thing isn’t held at Blacklake.”

“Winterborne won’t be any safer—not after the success of the recent attack.”

“But Winterborne has far more resources it can call on.” He paused. “Did you press Saska for more information?”

“Yes, but she wouldn’t—or couldn’t—say anything more.”

He grunted. “That really doesn’t give us much to go on.”

“Which seems to be something of a theme in this quest of ours.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

He fell silent. I returned my attention to the controls and the miles rolled quickly by. When the sensors indicated we were nearing our destination, I slowed the speeder down and did a sweep of the area. As Trey had said, there was nothing there.

I returned to the point where I’d found Saska unconscious and stopped. Trey hit the door-open button and then climbed out, one hand on his blaster as he scanned our immediate surrounds. There was nothing and no one out there according to the sensors, and yet that odd sense of presence once again hit me as I stepped onto the sandy soil.

I stopped beside Trey and raised a hand to shield my eyes against the bright glare of the sunshine. “This really is a godforsaken land.”

“Not so much godforsaken as almost totally drained of life,” he replied. “It’ll be centuries yet before it’ll recover enough to become farmland again.”

I glanced at him. “I was under the impression it would never recover?”

“That was the initial thought, but the success of the regeneration projects at the outposts has proved otherwise.”

“I’m guessing the Adlin would love to see this entire area repopulated. There isn’t much more than Wildebeests and the occasional patrol for them to hunt here at the moment.” I took a couple of steps forward, and that weird sensation of something or someone being near began to fade. I swung around and returned to the spot where Saska had lain. The feeling reasserted itself.

“What is it?” Trey said.

“I don’t know.” I bent and splayed my fingers against the soil. The earth was warm against my skin, well heated by the day’s sunshine. But there was very little in the way of life and energy—not even the faintest echo.

I walked forward several yards, and then repeated the process. Though faint, this time there was definitely the glimmer of power. It pulsed across my skin like a distant heartbeat, warm and welcoming.

I glanced up at Trey. “I can feel the faint pulse of the earth magic here, but there’s nothing where you’re standing. It’s empty.”

“Which isn’t unusual. When the earth witches of old drew on the power of this place, they did so in waves rather than as a complete whole. There will be patches of life—places where the well of magic has already started to refuel.”

“Yes, but there’s something in that emptiness. A presence of some kind, but one that has no beat of life.”

His expression gave little away, but I nevertheless sensed his doubt. “How can there be emptiness and life at the same time?”

“I have no idea. I’m only telling you what I’m sensing.”

He grunted and splayed his fingers wide, reaching for the earth magic without actually touching the ground, as I generally did. His frown deepened and, after a few seconds, he swore and shook his head. “There is a barrier in place. I can’t reach the earth.”

“Is that barrier a result of this area being drained in the war? Or is it a new development?”

“It’s new in this area, but not in others. It almost appears as if the earth’s voice is being deliberately muted.”

“And yet you and the other witches seemed to be having no trouble reconstructing the walls.”

“Because not all of Tenterra is affected.” He walked over to where I stood. “I can feel the beat of earth here, for instance.”

“Are any of the dead areas near the outposts or Winterborne?”

“To be honest, we haven’t tested the land near Winterborne, but perhaps we should.” He frowned. “There is one patch that sits between Far Springs and ourselves that’s a good one hundred feet wide and rather worrisome, if only because it’s a more recent development.”

I raised my eyebrows. “How recent?”

“It’s happened in the last fifty years and runs from the banks of the Black River to the heart of Tenterra. It can almost be described as a highway of deadness.”

“Have you ordered the area to be excavated to see if there’s an underlying reason for it?”

“Yes, with the help of a couple of diggers from Winterborne. We went twenty feet down in various spots, but there was nothing except earth devoid of life and energy.”

“Perhaps we need to go deeper. There is something here—I’m sure of it.”

“Dead earth won’t respond to my commands. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“Then maybe we should jointly try? I know you said it’s generally impossible, but the three kids were doing it. I can’t see why it won’t work for us.”

A smile touched his lips, but there was only wariness in his eyes. “Given you’re constantly achieving the impossible, it’s worth trying.”

He held out his hand. Once I’d placed mine in his, we walked across to the dead patch. He flared the fingers of his free hand wide; energy shimmered through the air, and throbbed through the connection of our hands. The earth beyond the dead spot stirred, rolling away from us in gentle waves, but earth in dead zone remained stubbornly inert.

“That,” Trey said, as the energy flowing between us eased, but didn’t entirely disappear, “is rather annoying even if not unexpected. I’ll order the diggers out from Blacklake, but in the meantime, we should—”

“Let’s try one more thing first.” I released my grip on his hand and then tugged off my boots and socks.

“I hardly think now is the time or place for such pursuits.” His expression was amused.

“It would seem to me that—according to you—there’s never a good time or place for such pursuits. At least with me.” I couldn’t help the slight bite in my voice. Frustration obviously hadn’t entirely left me, despite the shower episode. “But never fear, I’m not intending to seduce you, Trey. It would appear my ability to call on the earth is dependent on an actual flesh to earth connection, so maybe I simply need a stronger connection here.”

Something flickered through his eyes—frustration, perhaps, or maybe even annoyance. But all he said was, “That’s an interesting restriction, and one Eluria doesn’t have.”

“But she’s been trained, and I haven’t. And perhaps that lack is, in this case, more of an advantage, given I’m finding my own ways to power, and I’m not restricted by what should and should not work.” I held out my hand. “Shall we try again?”

We did. Unfortunately, the result was the same—nothing.

He released my hand. “Again, another not unexpected result. We should get moving if we’re to make it back to Winterborne before—”

“I’ve one final thing to try.”

He raised his eyebrows and motioned me to go ahead. I took a deep breath and reached, not for the earth but rather the air. It answered my call with a fierceness that knocked me back several steps and tore a gasp from my lips. Trey immediately grabbed me, bracing me as I directed the air at the earth. She hit it so strongly that dust and small shards of stone immediately pummeled the air, surrounding us in a halo of dead brown soil. She kept digging down, until the hole was far deeper than I was tall, and I could no longer see the bottom of it. And just as it seemed we would again find nothing, a tremor of exhalation ran through the wind and echoed through me.

The dead earth had given way to emptiness, and in the process revealed her secret.

There was a goddamn tunnel under our feet.

I released the air, but the minute I did, dizziness hit. I would have fallen had Trey not already been bracing me. I turned and rested my forehead against his chest, sucking in air and fighting the weakness that washed through me.

“Damn,” I muttered after a few minutes. “That’s never happened before.”

“It’s doubtful you’ve called forth that sort of power before now,” he said. “It was a pretty damn impressive display.”

I pulled away slightly and met his gaze. “Is the weakness a result of not having done the committal ceremony to the air?”

“No. All magic has its costs, even for those who have committed to our elements. Weakness is but one of those.” He raised a hand and gently brushed the sweaty strands of hair from my eyes. “The fact is, you shouldn’t have been able to call that much power, let alone exhibit such a degree of control.”

I frowned. “But Kiro said it was not unknown for the stained—”

“Yes, but they have to learn the means of control first, just like every other witch. You seem to have skipped that particular point, at least when it comes to the air.”

“Well, you did say I kept doing things I shouldn’t be able to.” I stepped back from his touch—even though part of me wanted to do the very opposite—and walked over to the shaft I’d excavated. It was a long pit of darkness.

He stopped beside me. “How deep is it?”

“It’s just over fifty feet—and at the very bottom of it lies a tunnel.”

His head snapped around. “What?”

I nodded. “I have this really weird feeling the tunnel is how Saska got here.”

“The tunnel might be, but how did she get to the surface? Regular air witches can’t interact with the earth.” He knelt at the edge of the hole and peered in. “The air has a rather foul smell to it.”

My heart began to race a little faster. “Urine and blue cheese?”

He glanced up again. “The senses of a Sifft are stronger than I thought if you’re aware of the smell when the wind carries it away rather than toward you.”

A grim smile touched my lips as I knelt beside him. “The children had the same smell.”

And that not only meant this tunnel was somehow connected to them, but could also be connected to the plot to overthrow Winterborne.

Trey swore. “It could also mean the deadness in the earth is an indicator of them.”

I glanced at him sharply. “You heard my thoughts?”

His gaze met mine with grim wariness. “Yes.”

“But how? Are you telepathic?”

“No.” He hesitated. “The ceremony of Gaia created a connection between us.”

“Is that all it did?”

He hesitated again and half shrugged. “I don’t know. And I can’t hear them all the time.”

That was a relief, given some of my more recent thoughts about him. “But you must have at least some idea of what other problems might arise.”

“Indeed, but I can’t see the sense in worrying about things that may not happen.” He waved a hand at the trench. “Not when we have greater worries.”

In other words, he still didn’t want to talk about it. The man was frustration itself. I resisted the inane urge to call him all sorts of names—although the slight smile touching his lips suggested he’d caught them anyway—and said, “I don’t suppose you saw a rope in any of the storage units?”

“I had no reason to look. Wait here.” He rose and ran back to the speeder.

I leaned over the shaft, wrinkling my nose against the stink that was rising. Twined within the god-awful smell of urine and blue cheese was the aroma of rotting meat. Something had died down there, and I could only hope it wasn’t a child. That Saska’s freedom hadn’t come at the cost of another’s life.

Trey returned with both a rope and flashlight. His gaze swept the width of the excavation and uneasiness settled across his expression. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to get down that shaft. My shoulders are too wide.”

“That’s because it was created for someone my size, not yours.” I held my hand out for the rope, and after a moment, he gave it to me. “Besides, it’s not your task to be investigating such places, Commander. It’s mine.”

His expression was decidedly unhappy. “I’d rather be stuck down that hole than up here worrying about what you’re dropping into.”

“I’m Sifft, remember, and Nightwatch besides. I can both see and defend myself, and probably far better than either you or anyone else you might send down to investigate.”

“I understand all that. It doesn’t change the fact I’d rather it be me.” He turned on the flashlight and pointed it down the shaft. “I can’t see anything but dirt at the bottom.”

Meaning the death I still smelled was out of immediate sight. I looped the rope around my waist and shoulders, and then handed him the rest of it. “Don’t let me fall.”

“No.” He hesitated. “Be careful, Neve. Comms are still down at Blacklake and we’re too far out from Winterborne for Daywatch to come to our rescue if something goes wrong.”

I flashed him a smile. “Careful’s my middle name, Commander.”

He snorted softly, but his amusement quickly fell away as I hung my legs over the edge of the shaft. After a deep breath to gather as much fresh air as I could, I slowly lowered myself down, keeping my palms pressed against the wall on either side to help keep the strain off Trey’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry about my damn shoulders,” he said. “Just concentrate on listening for whatever might lie just beyond sight.”

“Why aren’t I catching your thoughts as easily as you seem to be catching mine?”

“Oh, you’re catching them. Most of the time, you’re just not aware of it.”

“That’s rather annoying.”

“Not really. Not from my perspective anyway.”

“Suggesting you have thoughts you’d rather keep secret?”

“We all have those, Neve.”

“Yeah, but I suspect yours might concern either this quest or me more than anything related to your life, be it at Blacklake or Winterborne.”

“How about you concentrate on what you’re doing rather than firing questions at me?”

I half smiled. “I’m female, Trey. We can multitask.”

“Believe me, I’m well aware that you’re female.”

“I’d never have guessed it from your actions of late.”

“Can we please have this discussion later?” he all but growled. “Tell me what you’re damn well seeing.”

“Right now, I’m seeing and feeling nothing but lifeless earth. And you really don’t want to know what I’m smelling.”

I continued to drop down into the darkness, and with each foot that passed, the stench got stronger, until my stomach was threatening to erupt up my throat. Damn it, I needed fresh air! I reached for the wind, and yet again, she immediately answered. Fingers of freshness spun around me, easing the sick queasiness in my stomach as they chased the worst of smells away.

I continued to ease my way down the shaft. The farther away from the surface I got, the deeper the darkness became. I’d never feared the ink of night, but there was something in this utter blackness that had trepidation racing across my skin.

“How much further?” Trey called down.

“Five feet. Get ready, I’m about to jump down.”

“Go for it.”

I released my grip on the walls and dropped to the tunnel’s base. Dirt listlessly filled the air; it was almost as if the life that had been drawn from it had made it unwilling to stir.

I drew my knife and blaster, holding both weapons at the ready as I carefully looked around. There was no movement in this place, no indicator that anything or anyone had been down here recently. Seven feet to the right of where I stood, the tunnel ended. To the left, it stretched on into inky darkness. The scent, whatever it was, was coming from the left rather than the right.

I hesitated, and then went right, slipping my blaster back into its holster so I could place a hand on the solid wall of earth. Initially there was no response, and then power stirred, a beat of life that held only a little distance to it. The earth might be inert at the tunnel’s edge, but life returned just over a foot away.

I spun around and walked back to the shaft. “Nothing in the immediate vicinity,” I called up. “I’m going to follow the tunnel for a few minutes, and see where it leads.”

“Don’t go any further than the length of the rope,” he said. “I can’t get down there to help if trouble hits, remember.”

“That restriction might not give us the answers we need, Commander.”

“I’m more worried about your safety than answers right now.”

It was a comment that had warmth stirring through me, even though I seriously doubted he’d meant it in the way my hormones were hoping. I walked forward cautiously, scanning the rough walls and dusty floors, looking for the death I could smell. The deeper I went into the tunnel, the stronger it got, but I reached the end of my tether well before I found its source. I hesitated, and then untied the rope. I might have orders to go no further, but Saska had said there were answers here to find, and find them I would.

I dropped the rope to the ground and proceeded on.

“Damn it, Neve,” came Trey’s voice. Whether it was real or in my thoughts, I wasn’t entirely sure. “I can send a full team in to investigate the tunnel. It’s stupid to take this risk when we have a more important mission at Winterborne.”

So I was right—he wasn’t so worried about my safety, but rather what losing me might mean to his and Kiro’s quest.

“That’s not entirely true, and you know it.”

Entirely…. There was a whole lot of possible hurt in that one word. It was certainly a warning that attraction was no indicator of anything stronger.

Although as one of the stained, I should hardly be surprised at that.

I gripped my knife tighter. The glass blade gleamed with blue fire in the blackness, making the lifeless walls glow with an almost metallic sheen. Though my footsteps were soft against the dusty soil, they seemed to echo ominously in this place. If there were anything—or anyone—living in the deeper recesses of this tunnel, they would hear my approach.

The wind stirred, assuring me that I was alone, that none were near. Which was comforting, and yet at the same time, not.

I slowly continued. The air grew hotter and that terrible stench stronger. Sweat trickled down my spine and stung my eyes, and it felt like I’d been creeping through this awful place forever. But Trey would have undoubtedly badgered me into returning if too much time had passed.

In the darkness up ahead, something loomed. I paused, my heart racing in both expectation and fear. Whatever it was, it wasn’t moving. And the gentle wind certainly gave no indication of danger.

I frowned and unhooked my blaster. The knife might be the better weapon for close fighting, but right now I was more than happy to simply shoot, thereby eliminating the necessity of the latter. I crept closer, and the looming shadow revealed itself to be a smooth wall of earth and stone. A created wall, not a natural one.

On the left-hand side of it, at the junction of the barrier, the tunnel’s wall, and the floor, was a hand.

A small, stained hand.

A child’s hand.

And one that was unattached to a body.

Horror filled me as my gaze darted back to the pile of rocks and earth. Did the rest of the child’s body lie beneath it? And did I really want to uncover it?

The answer was a decided no, but such cowardice wouldn’t provide the answers we needed. And there were answers here to be found, I was sure of it.

I sheathed both of my weapons and then stepped closer to the smooth wall and pressed my hands against the earth. Like the walls that surrounded me, there was no life in this smooth mound of compacted earth and rock. I pushed against it as hard as I could, but other than a few bits of dirt falling across my fingertips, it had little effect.

Which left me with one choice. I stepped back and called in the wind. It howled past me and literally exploded the blockage into pieces, throwing me backward with the force of it and sending stones ricocheting across the darkness.

“Neve?” Trey’s voice was faint. I really had gone deeper into this tunnel than I’d intended. “What just happened?”

“I cleared a barrier. I’m okay.”

I pushed up into a sitting position. The dust was so thick I tugged my shirt over my mouth to filter some of the muck from my lungs. It took forever to clear, even with the air doing its best to draw the cloud back down the tunnel, away from this area. I climbed upright and carefully edged forward. In what had been the heart of the rock fall, I discovered a body.

But it wasn’t the body of a child.

It was thin and long, with skeletal limbs and crusty lavender skin, and a build that oddly reminded me of an ant’s even though it was clearly humanoid. I followed the line of its remains and spotted its head.

It was then that true horror hit me.

I might never have seen the likes of this creature before in real life, but I’d certainly seen many a picture of them in the few history books I’d read.

What lay before me was the remains of an Irkallan.