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By the time the sun rises, I’m searching once more.

Hours later, I have to admit I have no idea where she is. That strangeknowingthat has pushed me in her direction is gone, my instincts useless.

A deep sense of unease lingers beneath my frustration. The soldiers who escaped will have told their superiors what happened in this forest. Which means more of them will be coming.

Even with her impressive power, Madinia is only one woman. They could take her, couldhideher, and I’d never find her again.

Or my book. Most importantly, my book.

I’ve begun dreaming about it. Each time I close my eyes, I can feel it in my hands. I remember enough to know that the last time I touched it, my hands shook with despair. Despair and fury.

I travel through the forest, heading north. It was, after all, the direction we were moving in originally, and I can’t imagine Madinia turning back toward the city and the risks waiting for her there.

Although, perhaps that’s exactly what she would do.

I grind my teeth, and Fox snorts, likely sensing my frustration. Attempting to understand Madinia is like trying to decode a puzzle without a key.

And yet…

For once, I’m fully engaged with the world. I’m not watching it from afar, shifting pieces into place in an effort to get what I want. I may bereactiveinstead of proactive, but I’m fully alive for the first time in centuries.

It must be because I’m so close to my book.

Madinia

I’m not surprised Shaena moved her daughter away from Ferelith. The town is small and isolated, tucked away from the bustling trade roads. To reach it, you must first travel through the Aelstow Forest.

Uneven cobblestone streets link weathered stone cottages, which are dotted around the town square. The square itself is little more than a slight widening of the main road with a small market. A lone tavern is positioned next to an inn at the edge of the square.

And yet, the market is filled with laughter and haggling, the people dressed simply as they greet their neighbors.

The people in Kolegrift reminded me of butterflies. In comparison, the people in Ferelith remind me of ducks on a pond, drifting across the water’s surface, their robes mostly muted versions of the bright colors I saw in the city.

“I know where my aunt lives,” Fliora says. This morning, she warned me that her power was drained, and Calysian will now be able to find us.

But her gift gave us a head start.

She didn’t want to come here, insisting that she needed to stay with me. I managed to convince her that at the very least, we needed to tell her aunt what had happened to her sister. And now I’m hoping the woman will take over from here.

Our horses’ hooves clop along the cobblestones as Fliora leads me to a cottage at the edge of town. We tie the horses to a weathered post outside the cottage, and by the time we’re finished, a woman has appeared in the doorway.

“Fliora!” Her gaze darts from me to the girl, then lingers on her niece as if checking for damage. “What happened?”

Fliora bursts into tears. I don’t blame her. I gently encouraged her to cry if she needed to while we were traveling, but she mostly sniffled, keeping her pain to herself. She’s overdue for this.

Her aunt darts out of the house, her movements faster than I would have expected for such a short, curvy woman. But when she throws her arms around Fliora, I catch sight of several sheathed daggers.

Someone has trained her.

I step backward, giving them privacy as Fliora tells her what happened.

The color drains from her face so quickly, I leap forward, ready to catch her if necessary. Her eyes fire as she meets my gaze. “You.”

“Uh—”

“You had better come in. The horses will be fine there for a few minutes. We’ll untack them after this conversation. My name is Yalanda.”

“I’m Madinia.”