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“They’re all talking about what to do,” Zaf said quietly. “You really scared everyone, Thorn. You scaredme.”

A curtain of nearby leaves parted, revealing a frowning Bartos. He marched over and flung himself down onto the moss beside Zaf.

“Noro told me what’s happened,” said Bartos, “but I’d like to hear you say it yourself.”

“She doesn’t want to talk right now, thank you,” said Zaf.

“Well, that’s just too bad,” Bartos replied. “Because the woman who trained me now has Thorn-sized handprints on her throat. Some people back there think you ought to be taken to Tavarik and put in a cell.”

A taut cord snapped, somewhere deep in Thorn’s chest—the dark web, lashing out like a frog’s hungry tongue.

“Your plan was too slow!” she snarled.

Zaf looked sadly up at her. “Thorn, this isn’t you.”

“But itisme! It’s who I am now. I’m strong, and I’m not afraid, not of anything.” Thorn’s voice broke. “I get angry when I want to, and I say what I want to, loud and mean if I want to, and no one ignores me, and no one wishes I was Brier, and—” Choking a little, she backed slowly away from Zaf and Bartos. “I don’t cry, I never cry, not anymore, notever—”

“That,” said Bartos calmly, “is not the Thorn I know.”

“The Thorn you know is worthless.”

“Not true.”

“She’s small and skinny and she smells like trash,” Thorn continued, her eyes filling up.

“She works hard keeping our city clean,” Bartos argued, “and she makes beautiful art that fills her house with color.” He smiled a little. “And my house too. Vases and figurines, paintings and wind chimes.”

“She’s a shadow. She’ll be forgotten when she dies.” Thorn let out a little sob and viciously wiped her face. “She cries too much.”

“Oh, Thorn,” he said with a sigh. “It is no small thing, to have a gentle heart.”

Thorn stared at him, a slight calm falling over her.

“My mother said that to me once,” she whispered.

Bartos smiled. “I know. She said it to me too.”

Zaf reached for Thorn’s hand and held on tight. She stared at Thorn with her huge blue eyes, so bright and beautiful that for a moment, Thorn forgot everything else.

“Maybe the Gulgot’s darkness hurt you,” Zaf said, her voice thin but fierce, “because, when you comforted that unicorn, you showed so much light to grab on to. The darkness couldn’t resist it. It was a kind thing you did, Thorn. A brave thing.”

Thorn looked away into the forest, trying to find her breathing once more. Zaf was being nice, but she was wrong.

The truth was she was weak, small, and less than ordinary. She had known it all her life, and now the Gulgot’s darkness knew it too. It had found her, and was changing her, because it sensed that itcould.

“Come,” Bartos said, rising to his feet. “We’ll have some food. I’ll introduce you to Emmi, properly.”

“You should just leave me here and go home,” Thorn said dully, stepping back from Zaf. “I’ll hurt someone again. I’ll go hide, like the shadow-struck unicorns. I’m not...”

Her throat closed up. She couldn’t say the words she wanted to say:I’m not worth saving.

Bartos took her gently by the shoulders.

“You are worth saving, Thorn of the Vale,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “And that’s what we’re all going to do.”

“How?” Thorn whispered.

“By saving the Vale,” Zaf said, hands on her hips. She grinned, tilting her head. Her eyes sparkled. “Haven’t you been paying attention?”