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I find a chaotic mind, a tornado of violent thoughts, a picture show of all the horrific things he wants to do with me. His sadistic and perverse thoughts are irrelevant. I unleash a torrent of power into his psyche, drowning his thoughts of blood and breaking bones, flooding his emotions, his memories. His jaw goes slack, and his sword tumbles from his hand. He crumples to the snowy snow, his mouth hanging open.

I pick up his sword and drive it through his chest. A final puff from his lips, a last exhalation, and he breathes no more.

Pain rips through my mind in the next second, and I gasp and lean against a tree. Red drops spatter on the white snow. I touch my nose, and blood trickles onto my hand. So much fucking blood around me.

Nauseated, I lean down to pick up the dropped sword. An arrow thunks into the tree next to me. I’m ready to fall over in the snow and give up, but I force myself to keep going.

I stagger on through the woods, my thigh pumping blood.

Vaguely, I wonder what would happen to Mom if I died now. Would she end up homeless in Camelot? Would she find someone to look after her as she grew older, thinner, sicker?

A memory flickers, one I haven’t thought about in years. When I was little, Mom left me alone in the house, and I woke from a nightmare about ghosts. Terrified, I searched for her, but the house was dark and empty. The floors creaked beneath my feet, and Iknewthe ghosts were there, waiting. Panicked, I ran blindly until my forehead cracked against the sharp edge of a shelf. I remember feeling utterly, completely alone.

It’s the same feeling now, injured and stumbling blindly around. I keep going, gripping the stolen sword. My head pounds.

I don’t go far before I reach a cliff face, the rock sheering up to dizzying heights. The granite wall towers above me, stretching in either direction, too sheer to scale. A few vines climb up it, but not far enough to get me anywhere, and they break partway up the rock.

I hear calls from both sides. They’re drawing closer, surrounding me.

My blood roars in my ears, and I whirl with my back against the cliff face.

I’ve got nowhere to go. This is where I make my last stand. I imagine Tana flipping over the death card as she sits on her bed.

Gasping, I search for anything else I can use to defend myself. A few boulders surround me, but they’re too low to act as much of a shield against the arrows. I reach down, pressing my hand against my injured thigh.

Fear vibrates through me. I grit my teeth and try to stay calm.

Closing my eyes, I summon my magic, reassured by its charge deep within my chest. I don’t want to give up here. I don’t want to end up buried under the snow, forgotten by the years. I want tolive.

And then I sense something, a familiar, comforting presence in my mind, a deep, sensual voice, almost like my unconscious was searching for him, lowering the shields I’d erected against him.

Talan’s voice whispers in my thoughts. He’s still mostly blocked by the veil in my mind, but not as much as usual. I can sense his fear for me. He must have returned to the cottage and found it empty. He probably saw all the footsteps stomping the ground around the hunting lodge and found the open window. The dark, rich touch of his power brushes my thoughts. He’s sending his magic to locate me.

He knows he can’t get into my mind, that I always protect myself from his powers, but he’s trying anyway. And I’m surehe’s also tracking me on foot, trying to follow the frantic zigzags of my footfalls between the trunks and the trail of blood from my injured thigh.

“Talan!” I shout.

But it only calls my attackers closer. I hear their cries around me as the men realize my position. Meanwhile, Talan is still desperately searching. He’s too far and hasn’t heard me.

A few men appear within the trees roughly forty yards away and spot me.

I crouch, gripping the sword. Talan will never track me here on time. I’m on my own.

But there’s another way to let him know where I am.

For the first time since I arrived in Brocéliande, I let the veil in my mind drop.

CHAPTER 39

The impact is sudden and startling. My mind suddenly feels free, and the headache is gone. Until now, I didn’t realize how much effort I’ve been spending maintaining the veil. All day and all night, it’s been draining my magical power, and now, the fog is lifted from my thoughts.

Somewhere, in the distance, Talan’s magic reaches for me, the shock of realization slamming into him.

There you are.A note of cold anger slidesunder his smooth, velvety voice.

What, exactly, has he already discovered about me, now that I’ve let him in?

He’s not a telepath like I am. Usually, he can’t seek out another’s conscious thoughts, only their dreams, their hidden desires and fears. And yet, he’s heard my voice for years, my thoughts.