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She tilted her head from side to side in a maybe gesture. “The shirt you’re wearing is a stronger version of it, so that’s what would have helped you today. I don’t know what strength would be left in the handkerchief.”

“And the workings you did in my skin?” His voice was almost inaudible as they traversed the camp.

She glanced at him guiltily. “I didn’t know how that would work.” She hunched her shoulders. “Theoretically it shouldn’t have worked on skin at all, but I knew from when I stitched myself,” she touched the place above her eye where her cousin had struck her with the pommel of his sword, “that I could make the skin smooth again, if not scar-free.”

“What happened there?” He stopped and reached out a hand, rubbed a fingertip over the skin above her eye.

She took hold of his hand, moved it to the correct place. He peered closer.

“There’s no sign anything was ever there.”

“The Herald struck me, and split the skin. I’m glad there’s no longer a sign anything was there.” She wanted no reminder of what her cousin had done to her. “Perhaps by the time the working fades, the magic is no longer needed because the scar is gone.”

They had reached the healer’s tent. Dorea was sitting by the fire, sipping from a cup.

“How’s he doing?” Luc asked.

“Much better since we wiped that filth on his cheek away. Did you find that woman?”

“No. She’s packed her things and disappeared. But she might still be hanging around, watching to see if Rev is dead.”

Dorea sucked in a breath, as if the possibility hadn’t occurred to her. “What do we do?”

“We set guards, and keep a lookout for her.”

While they talked softly about the arrangements, Ava moved into the tent, saw that Revek was asleep on his pallet.

His color was good, his breathing even.

She sank down beside him to get a better look at her working.

As she sat on her haunches, the tent wall beside her moved.

She waited, keeping absolutely still, as the canvas was lifted a little.

She slid her knife out of her boot. If this was Haslia coming back to finish the job, she would be getting a big surprise.

A hand snaked through the gap, and she focused on it, waiting for Haslia to wriggle through, when the hand flicked something in Revek's and her direction.

And then suddenly, she was on fire. Or her cloak was.

She felt a pitching sensation, as every protective working she’d embroidered into the fabric pulled hard in warning, and she stumbled to the side, fetching up against the wall of the tent.

Flames flickered from her hem upward, and the canvas of the tent caught fire.

She must have made some kind of noise, because Luc and Dorea were suddenly inside with her.

She saw the horror in Dorea’s eyes.

“Ava. Look at me.” Luc was in front of her, reaching for her. He stopped, lifting his hands to shield his face from the flames.“Undo your cloak.” He coughed and choked on the words.

She staggered toward him, her hand going to her throat. She fumbled with the tie and then stepped away, letting the cloak fall from her shoulders and flutter down to the ground behind her.

As soon as it was off her, she could feel the heat scorching her cheeks. “Revek.” She turned to look at him, but while she’d been concentrating on Luc, the two guards who’d helped carry him inside after she’d stitched him were carrying him out again.

The fire had taken hold of the tent now, and the back was an inferno.

Dorea darted past her, heedless of the flames.