A soft knock came at the door and Alistair turned around. “Who is that?”
Ember felt as though an invisible hand was strangling her. She opened her mouth, but only a croak came out.
“Ember?” Barrow’s murmur reached them.
Alistair’s face darkened as he strode to the door.
“Alistair, no.” Ember choked the words from her throat, but it didn’t stop him. He opened the door, glaring at Barrow.
“How dare you come to Lady Morrow in the middle of the night, you cur.” Alistair spat at his feet.
With a drawn face Barrow gazed at him and then at Ember, who still clung to her loose kirtle.
She shook her head. “Barrow, please, it’s not . . . He surprised me.”
The pale cast of Barrow’s skin became a white rage. “I told you to stay away from her. And yet you burden her still with your childish obsession.”
“I love her, you brute!” Alistair snarled.
Barrow grabbed Alistair by the shirt and towed him into the cell, kicking the door shut behind them.
“I would not bring shame on Lady Morrow by drawing our companions to witness this scene,” Barrow said. “But I will not tolerate your presence here.”
“I have far greater claims to Lady Morrow than you.” Alistair shook himself free of Barrow’s grip.
Barrow’s hands fisted. “No one has claim on her.”
“And I suppose you’re here to comfort her now that her mentor is dead . . . the mentor she gained once you abandoned her.” Alistair smiled cruelly. “Do you think to wile your way into her bed, promising to guide her to womanhood?”
Barrow lunged at Alistair, but Ember reached him first. Her fist cracked against Alistair’s jaw.
“How dare you claim to love me and speak of me so?”
Alistair stared at her, rubbing his face. “I’m sorry, my lady. This barbarian’s rudeness infects me.”
“Barrow has done nothing wrong,” Ember told him. “I asked him to come here because I don’t understand what is required of the Guard after Sorcha’s death.”
Alistair’s eyes roamed over Ember’s bare shoulders. “And you thought to receive his advice in your nightshirt?”
Ember stiffened. “I thought he had decided the hour too late to come. His appearance is a surprise to me. Just as yours was.”
Behind her, Ember could hear Barrow breathing hard, but he didn’t move toward Alistair again.
“Then perhaps the honorable thing to do is for both of us to bid you good night.” Alistair glanced at Barrow. “Ember spoke true. The hour is far too late and we needn’t keep her from sleep with our quarrel.”
Barrow was silent for a moment but then said, “Agreed.”
Ember turned, casting a pleading gaze on him. How could she object without making things worse? He gave a slight shake of his head.
“After you,” Barrow said to Alistair, gesturing to the door.
Alistair bowed to Ember and said, “Think on my words, Ember.”
Barrow lifted his brows but followed Alistair to the door without speaking.
He turned in the door frame. “Sleep well, Lady Morrow,” he said. Then he closed the door.
THIRTY-THREE
EMBER STARED AT THE ceiling, unable to sleep though she lay on her pallet in a clean, dry nightshirt. She’d listened so hard for any sign of Barrow’s return that her ears ached. But he hadn’t come back. She toyed with the idea of going to him but couldn’t help but think that his absence was a sign of anger toward her. The thought of seeking Barrow’s cell and his bed only to be turned away made her feel as if she’d be sick.
Her mind remained divided because of another matter as well. What did Alistair mean about a new order? Did Eira have a plan that only the Circle knew? But if that were the case, why would Alistair know about it and not the rest of the Guard?
In the woods, that shadow creature had manifested in front of her, but when the pendant had burned, it had vanished.
The pendant that Alistair had given her. Eira’s pendant.
And what had Eira told them about Sorcha’s death? She’d said that the villagers believed Sorcha to be a witch because the shadow creatures had vanished instead of attacking her. And they’d burned her for it.
Ember’s throat went dry. Why had the creatures vanished? Had Eira given Sorcha a pendant as well?
She climbed from her bed, groping in the darkness for the necklace, which she’d left on the table.
Her hands shook as she lifted it, trying to make out its details despite the lack of light to see by. In the shadows she could see nothing other than a pendant dangling from a chain, but the longer she gazed at it, the faster her pulse pounded.
Could she have been taken in Sorcha’s place? Did Sorcha burn only because she’d been caught in the village where Ember had not?
The knock at her door made Ember jump. The pendant slipped from her hand, its gold edges tinkling against the table when it fell.
Ember’s throat went dry. Why had the creatures vanished? Had Eira somehow been connected to it? She’d been the only one to witness Sorcha’s demise. Could she have stopped it but didn’t?
Before she could answer, the door opened and Ember’s chest tightened. She was certain Alistair had returned. But the figure that entered her cell was much too tall to be Alistair.
“Ember, you must wake.” The sound of Lukasz’s voice startled her more than the knock at her door.
“I’m awake, Commander.”
“There is an urgent matter,” he whispered. “Dress and come to the stables. Make haste, for time works against us.”
“I’ll hurry,” she said.
Without another word he was gone and she was once again alone. Ember slid a fresh kirtle over her shoulders and pulled on chausses. After she’d belted her tabard, she hooked the leather covers for her weapons into place, haunted by the feeling she would need them. She donned her heavy cloak and drew its hood over her head.
When Ember reached the stables, she found a small group huddled around a single lantern held by Father Michael. She glanced over the half dozen men and women, seeking familiar faces. Lukasz and Kael were both there along with knights she recognized but didn’t know other than from sharing meals with them in the hall. The only person present who wasn’t one of the Guard was Thomas, the eldest member of the Circle. She continued her search, and her eyes burned when she realized she’d been expecting to see Sorcha among them.