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I’d have asked him if he didn't turn his back immediately, shrugging his bag off his shoulder with a single lazy motion that had his slender muscles bulging in ways that made my mouth go dry. Just in case Tared was keeping an eye on me, I quickly looked away, too.

‘Mind if we make a little fire?’ Naxi was saying in the background, speaking to the forest as if they were old friends. ‘We’ll keep it small and controlled, of course, but cold food is so annoyinglycold…’

The earth shifted in the middle of the clearing, emptying a barren patch of sand where Lyn’s flames would not be able to damage anything. I wondered how many travellers had strayed into this part of the world without understanding the true nature of the wood, and how many of them had died a violent death, never to be seen again, after they’d snapped just one twig too many.

‘So,’ Lyn said as she installed her fire in the designated spot and sent Creon and me an expectant look, ‘are the two of you cooking again?’

Bless her little heart. I hadn't dared to suggest it myself.

But there was no comfort in the process this evening, none of the cosy companionableness that had returned between us in the farmhouse before I had unwisely thrown myself into the hearth and ruined everything. Creon was all ruthless efficiency as he picked his ingredients; his instructions came in cold, curt signs, and half of the time, he barely looked up as he delivered them. I cut my finger while chopping carrots to bite-sized chunks, and not even my sharp hiss of pain could persuade him to turn away from the piece of fresh ginger he was peeling with practiced, nimble hands.

For fuck’s sake.

I drew too much blue from my sweaty travelling tunic to heal the cut, turning the skin of my finger a soft, vulnerable pink. With a muffled curse, I wiped the blood on my trousers, glanced over my shoulder to check whether the alves were still busy setting up our camp for the night, and hissed, ‘Creon?’

He looked up just a fraction too slowly, as if bracing himself.

Zera help me. I shouldn’t have felt nervous, talking to him. Henevermade me feel nervous. But the hint of impatience glimmering in his night-black eyes set my heart stuttering, and my sharply whispered words came out not nearly as righteously annoyed as they should have. ‘What is the matter, exactly? If it’s all not as fine as you said, could you justtellme instead of—'

‘Em?’ Tared said from the other side of the clearing, looking up from the maps he was studying with Beyla. ‘Anything wrong?’

Your damn presence.

‘Just discussing the food,’ I snapped, hearing how implausible it sounded before the words left my lips. ‘Nothing important.’

He glared at Creon – more out of habit than for any other reason, it seemed – and sauntered over to the fire, falling down on the other side with the map still in his hands. ‘Let me know if I can help.’

It took all I had not to throw a carrot at him; had he been anyone else, I may have grabbed for my knife. Couldn’t they just stopbeinghere for a few damn moments? Couldn’t they just give us five bloody minutes to talk?

‘In case I cannot handle a handful of vegetables by myself, you mean?’ I said sharply.

‘For example,’ he said, frustratingly unperturbed. ‘What did you say about the temple, Bey?’

‘The few reports I’ve read say it’s located on a hill,’ she said, walking over to our side of the clearing as if she hadn’t noticed my barely suppressed murderous urges. ‘So we might be able to see it from a distance. If we continue at this rate, we should catch a first glimpse tomorrow afternoon …’

I risked a quick look at Creon. He shrugged – that damned uncaring shrug – and mouthed,I’m fine.

‘I’m a purple rabbit,’ I grumbled.

‘Beg your pardon?’ Tared said, looking up from the map again.

Creon did not reply to either of us. I returned to my cooking work in silence, pretending the carrots splitting around my knife were well-meaning alves and fathers who always knew better.

Within half an hour, the mishmash of ingredients somehow turned into a fragrant meal in the lightweight travel pan Beyla had brought. By the time we’d all filled our stomachs with soft, spiced carrot and bread soaked in fragrant olive oil, twilight had become early night, and the golden glow of Lyn’s fire was all that kept the shadows of the forest at bay. Behind the circle of grey-white trees, the world was nothing but silhouettes and starlight, an ominous darkness that could hide hungry wolves as easily as fugitive gods.

‘We’ll need to keep watch,’ Tared said, breaking the silence that had hovered over most of our dinner. ‘Want me to stay awake with you, Naxi?’

The underlying message was clear: he was not going to spend half his night watching over us with Creon as his only waking company. Naxi smiled broadly, as if she wasn’t perfectly well aware she was the preferable alternative rather than a first choice.

‘I’ll take the second half of the night,’ Beyla said quickly, which was another clear piece of strategic manoeuvring. For Tared’s peace of mind, Lyn wasn’t going to take the slot with Creon, and for considerations of family concerns and public opinions, neither was I. ‘Is there anything else we need to discuss, or can I go get some sleep?’

I hadn't expected Creon to be the one to reply, but he rose without hesitation, his gestures aimed at me but perfectly visible for everyone else around the fire.Think I’ll go for a quick flight to see if I spot anything interesting.

Now? After nightfall, and when he would have to stay awake for half of the night, too? I blinked, my annoyance briefly forgotten, and said, ‘Shouldn’t you sleep every now and then?’

Not particularly tired.He shrugged, wiped the moss from his thighs, and looked back at me, a flicker of a challenge in his dark eyes.Coming along?

Even the fire stiffened for a sliver of time.