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She thought of the resistance she’d felt to her healing while she’d stitched him, and realized the spell in the oil on Revek’s face had interfered with her own working.

Maybe that was for the best.

“You wanted to talk to me?”

Revek pulled his tunic up again. He was holding the piece of board in both hands, and she saw his knuckles were white.

“I haven’t felt sick since Haslia left. I didn’t realise I felt sick until I didn’t anymore, if you understand what I mean. I had gotten used to feeling ill, maybe.” He looked up from whatever was written on the parchment. “I want to know if Haslia was enspelling me.”

“Why do you think I’d know?” She shouldn’t ask questions she didn’t want the answers to, but it came out of her mouth anyway.

He simply stared at her for a beat. “What would she have done to me?”

Ava sighed. “I really don’t know. But it could have been something she gave you to eat or drink, or even the crockery you used to eat or drink out of. Massi and Luc think someone, probably Haslia, gave her an enspelled cup to drink out of.”

“She told me that, but the cup and plate I’m using I’ve had for years. It could have been in the tea we often shared in the morning.”

“Does it matter?” Ava rose up from her crouch. “You’re feeling normal again, so it was obviously something she was doing daily to you.”

“Yes, it matters.” His voice rose, and heads turned in their direction. “It matters.” He lowered his voice, but there was no doubting his feelings. “I never want to be vulnerable like that again. I endured years of manipulation and mind games in the Chosen camps and I thought I was finally free. Now I know there’s no such thing as completely safe.”

“No. There is no such thing.” She was sorry for it, but it was the truth.

“What I want to know is, are you doing the same to Luc? Are you playing the same games Haslia played with me?” At last Revek rose up from his stool, more than head and shoulders taller than her.

“If you want to know if I’m manipulating Luc, the answer is no.” Ava took a step back. Her cloak’s warning was kicking in, a faint bell ringing in her head.

Revek’s mood had shifted.

More than her cloak, she could see it on his face.

He was considering hurting her, maybe killing her, just in case she was lying.

Despite her having healed him.

Maybe she didn’t have to worry that she was affecting the way people responded to her. Revek certainly wasn’t going out of his way to be friendly.

It almost made her cheerful.

“Have you figured out why Haslia wanted you dead?” She threw out the question more as a distraction than anything else, but he dropped what seemed to be the inventory checklist he’d been holding and flexed his hands.

“No. That’s for Luc to ask me, not you. Most of the last few months are more a blur than not, when I think back on them now, and I can’t quite see clearly. But when I finally do,” he glared at her, “I will go to Luc, not you.”

“There a problem?” Oscar’s voice came from behind her, and she looked over her shoulder to find him and Deni standing just inside the tent.

When she turned back, she saw Revek’s posture had relaxed.

“No problem. Just thanking Ava for the patch-up job she gave me on my arrow wound.”

Deni grunted in response and Ava turned toward him and Oscar, holding out both elbows.

“You finally going to spar with me, Oscar?” she asked as the two men linked arms with her and walked away. “Or are you too embarrassed to bet against yourself?”

“What was that about?” Deni asked her as soon as they were out of the glow thrown by the fire.

“He was enspelled by Haslia.” She shrugged. “And Haslia did her best to convince him I had somehow enspelled Luc. He’s trying to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t himself for a long time, and he's worried I’m doing the same to his friend.”

“He’s volatile,” Oscar said. “Always was. Luc’s the only reason Revek’s still alive. And I think the Commander still remembers the person he was before the camps twisted him up, not the man he is now.”