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He'd been attacked by assassins three times since he’d returned to the Rising Wave after his escape. Once while sitting with his three top lieutenants, not two hours after he'd found his way back from the Kassian fortress he’d been held in. No one had been fast enough to save him then.

He'd saved himself.

He gripped the fabric over his chest at the thought, and looking down at his fist, forced himself to release it.

“You do that a lot.”

He managed not to show his surprise at the voice to his left, and simply turned to look at Massi as she fell into step beside him.

He sighed.

Even sneaking off on foot hadn't been enough to fool her.

“Do I?”

“You know you do. It worries you.” Massi looked over at him. “Why?”

“I took an arrow there, when Ava and I were escaping the Kassian. It's natural for me to rub it.” Except, if anyone asked to see the scar, he couldn't oblige.

It was gone.

“What's going on, Luc? I'd ask what they did to you while they had you prisoner, but you and I both know nothing could have been as bad as the Chosen camps.”

“No, they beat me a little, that's all.” He shrugged. “It was nothing.” Not even the knife they'd stabbed into his side to see if he was truly unconscious had worried him.

The scar from that wound was gone, too, he reminded himself. As was the one on his forearm. The one he'd gotten fighting the Kassian soldiers when they'd ambushed him before his capture.

Everything that Ava had touched with her needle and thread had healed completely.

“Then what?” Massi's exasperation came out on a puff of white because of the chill in the air.

“Ava . . .” He hesitated. He didn't understand what Ava had done to him, and was reluctant to share anything about her with anyone else. Even Massi, who had been by his side since he was fifteen. They were family in every way that mattered.

“Ava.” Massi said her name neutrally, but Luc detected a hint of censor in her voice.

“Ava,” he agreed. He shielded his eyes against the bright midday sun and looked out in the direction of Grimwalt.

“She has some hold on your mind. Your happiness.” Massi kicked out at a small pebble in her path and it skittered off into the long grass.

“She does,” he agreed.

She made a sound of surprise. “You admit it?”

“It's true. I'm worried about her, worried something has happened to keep her away so long, and given what she was planning to do . . .” He shrugged. “Not a day goes by I don't struggle not to get on my horse and ride off to find her.”

Massi was silent, so he turned to look at her, and found her staring at him in horror.

“You would leave the Rising Wave?”

“I'm still here, aren't I?” He lifted his hand to shield his eyes again. “But it's not without regrets and doubts.”

“You knew her for all of three days.” Massi's words were soft, as if she was unable to speak properly.

“And yet, I miss her.” This time, he put a fist over his heart, and Massi's silence was beyond shocked.

She knew what that meant. Everyone from the Chosen camps knew.

“Does she feel the same?” Massi whispered.