She brushed a tear from her cheek, not wanting to look at Barrow and wishing she could have been stronger.
“It will get easier,” he said, cupping her chin in his hand so she had to meet his gaze. “I can read to you for a bit and then we’ll try again.”
She didn’t know what was worse, that she’d now cried twice in front of him or that she was going to have to go through the painful exercise again. And probably soon.
Alistair shoved Barrow away from the bed. “I asked you what you’re doing, brute!”
“Alistair!” Ember glared at him. “What is wrong with you?”
Alistair’s face was white with rage. “What’s wrong with me? Look at you. He hurt you.”
“He’s helping me,” she said, furious again that her face was tear-streaked. “It’s not Barrow’s fault that my recovery isn’t pleasant.”
He didn’t reply but stood staring at her, breathing hard.
Barrow cleared his throat.
“What?” Alistair threw him an unfriendly glance.
“I was just waiting.”
“For what?” Alistair asked.
“An apology.” Barrow smiled at him.
Alistair’s answering smile was cold. “Does a farmer apologize to his jackass for the sting of the switch?”
“Alistair!” Ember wished she could get out of bed and kick him.
When he turned back to her, his eyes were pleading. “He’s baiting me. Can’t you see it? Why do you trust him?”
“Why wouldn’t I trust him?” she threw back. “And why would Barrow ever bait you?”
“Why indeed?” Barrow murmured, but the teasing lilt of his words had vanished.
Alistair ignored him. “Shouldn’t the healer be ministering to you? I wasn’t aware Barrow was qualified.”
“Any one of us could aid Ember with these exercises.” Barrow gestured to her. “Perhaps you’d like to take over?”
Ember’s eyes widened. She stopped herself from protesting, but not before a pained expression cut across Alistair’s face. Barrow looked at Alistair and then at Ember, his face suddenly troubled.
“I’m sorry I interfered.” Alistair stared at the floor rather than meeting her eyes. “I wish you a swift recovery.”
He walked away.
“You don’t have to leave!” Ember called after him.
Alistair didn’t look back.
Barrow’s gaze followed Alistair’s abrupt departure. Ember expected him to make a derisive remark about Alistair’s ill temper, but instead he slowly backed away from her bedside. Avoiding her questioning eyes, he murmured, “I should leave you to your rest.”
Ember frowned. “I thought you were going to read to me.”
“So did I.” His answer seemed directed to himself rather than to her. He didn’t look at her when he said, “I’ll send the healer to assist you with your exercises.”
“Barrow—” she began.
He cut her off. “I’m glad you’re awake, Lady Morrow. And I wish you a swift recovery.”
Before Ember could begin to puzzle out his odd change in behavior, Barrow was gone.
TWENTY-SIX
EIRA WAS VAGUELY aware that Cian kept stealing glances at her. No doubt her sister was worried, but Eira couldn’t shake herself out of a dreamlike state as they rode eastward. Today the sisters returned to the village with twenty of the Guard, nearly the full company, all armed to the teeth. Though only four knights remained at the keep—including Barrow, who’d requested to stay in case the lady Morrow’s condition took an unexpected turn for the worse—Tearmunn remained well protected. The keep had defenses beyond its knights that were invisible to the eye.
On the road to Dorusduain, the restless mood of the soldiers permeated the air, stiff and edged with fear. But the cloud of apprehension that hung heavy over the rest of the Guard didn’t touch Eira.
Eira’s distracted state of mind kept flipping between two puzzles. The first was the night of dreams that held her entranced. While sleeping, she’d dreamed of the abbot’s estate, of standing over the abbot with Bosque Mar at her side. They’d laughed, watching as Crichton begged for mercy.
It should have been a nightmare. But the scene she’d lived and then relived in her sleep filled her with a sense of delight. She wondered at her proclivity for taking joy from his pain but pushed aside her fears of moral corruption whenever they crept into her thoughts. Hadn’t Abbot Crichton earned his punishment? And Eira had shown him mercy by commanding Bosque to spare the man’s life. The abbot was a prisoner in his own estate, but he was alive because of Eira’s will.
Eira’s heart bloomed at the memory. A single phrase uttered and this man—if she could call him a man—Bosque Mar had served her. She still couldn’t comprehend what he was. And she remained wary of his assertion that they could work toward the same purpose, yet his power appeared immeasurable. As an enemy, Eira would have viewed Bosque as the worst kind of threat. Still, he claimed he wanted not to fight, but to help her. But how?
Her musing flipped to the second riddle of the day: what had happened to Dorusduain. “Dorusduain is a lesson . . . and an unfinished one at that,” Bosque had said.
The lesson was meant for her, Eira had no doubt. But what he intended for her to learn sent alternating spikes of fear and exhilaration through her limbs.
Lukasz’s shout forced Eira out of her own thoughts. The soldiers had reached the edge of the forest, where the path disappeared among trees before revealing Dorusduain. The commander turned in his saddle, beckoning to the sisters. Cian and Eira rode forward. When they reached him, he asked, “Are you certain we must leave the horses here?”
“Eira and I are skilled riders,” Cian told him. “And I was nearly thrown by Liath. Something in the place creates terror in the horses. We’re better off on foot.”
“Leave two knights here to watch over our mounts,” Eira added.
“Fitch, Mercer,” Lukasz called out. Eira watched as two of the younger knights of the Guard brought their horses forward. She let her eyes roam over the soldiers, feeling her own age in contrast with their rosy-cheeked youth. She recognized Fitch, whose face was as pointy as a rodent’s, and lanky, tow-headed Mercer, but she barely knew them. Joining the Circle put her at a distance from new recruits to the Guard. This was the first time in months that either Eira or Cian had joined the Guard on a mission. Eira’s chest pinched, signaling how much she missed the camaraderie.