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Igrith reached the mouth of the Pass. She murmured something to the other Wesyfeddan, who nodded and pulled the horse toward the knights. As Igrith started forward again, Varick stepped away from me. He waited until she reached us, then offered her a solemn nod.

“I am sorry about your cousin, Igrith,” he said. “Rhys was a fine man. Wesyfedd’s loss is Nor Doru’s, as well.”

“Thank you, General.” Igrith rubbed her face. “It’s difficult to believe this is real.” She dropped her hand suddenly, and her eyes sharpened as she called out, “You could have warned me.”

Varick and I turned. Jordan stood silently, his brown cloak reminiscent of the gray robes he’d worn when I first met him. But he was no Brother from Sithistra. He was the Archmage, and he seemed to know everything before it happened.

Igrith strode to him, her slender body vibrating with anger. “How could you—”

“Not here,” Jordan said, his voice throbbing with a hint of the deep, unruly power he sometimes allowed others to glimpse. Behind him, the knights from the Wastes ceased their preparations. Curious gazes moved from Jordan to Igrith.

A tear streaked down her face, and she brushed it away angrily. Jordan remained still, his face boyish and attractive with the hint of a dimple in his smooth cheek. He said nothing. Just watched her with steady blue eyes.

She drew a deep breath. “Sometimes I wonder if you have a heart at all.” She turned on her heel and started for her horse. At the same moment, a woman’s sob rang out behind me.

I turned as a Nor Doruvian knight led a terrified-looking Lidia across the Bleak Pass.

Although, upon closer observation, the knight looked more terrified than Lidia. As she sank to the wooden planks in a puddle of black skirts, he cast me an expression that could only be interpreted as a plea for help.

I jogged toward the Pass. “Lidia?”

She jerked her head up. “Given!” Her delight was fleeting. A second later, her face crumpled and she buried her head in her hands. “Oh gods, I don’t want to die!” she wailed. Her glossy dark curls bounced as her shoulders shook.

Footsteps, and then Varick was beside me. We slowed as we reached the bridge, and he cast me a puzzled glance and spoke in my head. “Does she think we’re going to execute her?”

“Probably,” I muttered, stopping at the edge of the Pass. Lidia possessed a flair for the dramatic, but her heart was kind. She was also intelligent, although life in Rolund’s court hadn’t afforded her many opportunities to use her mind. Elissa had always been jealous of Lidia’s youth and beauty, and she was forever suspicious that Lidia might try to steal Rolund away from his First Queen.

Knowing Lidia as I did, I couldn’t see that happening. But it didn’t matter now. Lidia was widowed—and finally out from under Elissa’s thumb.

I waited at the mouth of the Pass as the knight coaxed Lidia to her feet and brought her to me. She gaped when she saw Varick.

“It’s all right,” I told her, beckoning her forward. As she stepped onto the ground, I took her hands in mine. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

She hiccuped, her green eyes huge in her pretty face. “You’re not? Oh, Given, you look amazing.” Her gaze traveled down my body, her eyes widening as she noticed my pants. “You’re like…scary.” She jerked her head up. “I mean, not bad scary. Good scary! Pretty scary.” Her dark brows pulled together. “That didn’t come out like I intended. You look—”

“I know what you meant,” I said, holding back laughter. I kept one of her hands in mine as I turned to Varick. “Lidia, this is Lord Varick of Lar Keiren. He’s—”

“King Laurent’s general,” Lidia breathed. Pink stained her cheeks as she tipped her head back and drank Varick in. “My ladies would kill to meet you, Lord Varick. We’ve heard…” She swallowed. “All good things.”

I cleared my throat before she could list examples.

“Who is this?” Igrith said behind me.

Lidia’s gaze shifted over my shoulder. In an instant, she went from starry-eyed to curious.

I turned. “Igrith. This is Lidia. She’s my brother’s…”

“Widow,” Lidia said. She shrugged. “Well, one of them.”

Igrith frowned. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be.” Lidia looked at me, her cheeks turning pinker. “Oh, Given. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” I said before she could apologize. I’d killed Rolund, and while everyone within earshot probably knew it, I didn’t feel like discussing it at the Bleak Pass. “Lidia, I want you to come to Lar Katerin.”

She gasped. “To the vampire court?”

Varick gave me a sharp look.