“How would dreams make her feel disloyal?” Ethan asked.
“The other thing she’s been saying, ‘Don’t let him take me,’” Shiloh replied. “That sounds to me like she can’t stop herself from being taken. She needs someone else to intervene. And, no offense, but she was calling out for her brother. Not for you.”
An uncomfortable silence settled over the room.
Knowing the others were waiting for him to speak, Connor finally sighed. “Well, it’s a theory.”
“If I may . . . ,” Shiloh began, looking to Connor for permission.
“Have at it, man,” Connor told him. How much worse could this theory get?
Shiloh nodded his thanks and turned to Sabine. “She might be more willing to talk to someone else. A girlfriend?”
“Girl talk?” Sabine laughed. “You don’t know me either, friend.”
Shiloh ducked his head, blushing.
Seriously? Connor was beginning to have doubts about this guy. Was he going to ask a monster’s permission before chopping its head off?
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit, Sabine.” Ethan grinned at her. “You can do girl talk, I’m sure.”
“I suppose.” Sabine nodded.
“Good,” Tess said. “When Adne recovers, I’ll want her supervised, but not too obviously. Sabine, why don’t you train her to lead tours—but draw the training time out so you can chaperone her while we get to the bottom of this.”
“She won’t like being told what to do,” Sabine said. “Or having me look over her shoulder all the time.”
“I think she’ll take it in stride.” Tess glanced at Adne. “She’ll expect consequences for weaving without permission. The assignment will be her probation.”
“My tours are punishment now?” Sabine raised an eyebrow. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Ethan had covered his mouth, pretending to cough, but it was clear he was laughing pretty hard.
“Is this why you never come to see me work?” Sabine asked, her smile curving wickedly. “I guess we’ll be talking about punishments too.”
Tess cleared her throat. “All right then. I really should get the healer back in here.”
“What should I do?” Connor was almost afraid to ask. His estrangement from Adne was out in the open now, and Connor felt both dejected and vulnerable.
“The best thing for you is to stay busy,” Tess answered. “And I’ll be taking care of that.” She looked from him to Ethan. “In fact, I have work for both of you.”
“Does it involve overtime?” Ethan asked, grinning at Sabine. “Because I think my domestic bliss might be in jeopardy.”
“It probably will, given the nature of this business,” Tess said. “Anika’s decided it’s time for us to go back into the field.”
“To do what?” Ethan frowned. “I thought the war was over.”
“It is,” Tess said, sounding a bit wary. “But after the theft in the library, the Arrow has been under a lot of pressure to make sure our future is secure.”
“How does one secure a future?” Sabine smirked. “That sounds awfully meta to me.”
“I agree.” Tess nodded. “And I don’t think Anika is completely happy with this new strategy, but like I said, she’s been under a lot of pressure.”
“Holt and company?” Connor asked.
“Yes, Holt, but unfortunately there’s a growing emphasis on company,” Tess said. “While Anika is busy trying to hold everything together, Holt has all the time he wants to bring people to his way of thinking. Anika is conceding on this issue because she hopes it will keep him from interfering in other areas of the Academy.”
“So what does Holt want us to do?” Connor stood up, straightening his duster.
“He wants us to round up the Keepers.”
ADNE WAS AWAKE for a long time before she opened her eyes. She stayed hidden behind the dark veil of her eyelids, afraid to face the world.
What am I going to tell them?
There were no good answers to the questions she would have to face. No explanations to justify her actions.
And just as she’d known they would be, a little crowd of worried Searchers huddled around Adne’s bed when she finally opened her eyes.
“There’s my girl.” Connor bent and kissed Adne’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay.” Adne tried to smile at him, but her frantic pulse was distracting her. He’ll want to know what happened. They all will. I don’t even know what really happened. “How long have I been out?”
“A few hours,” Connor answered. “We think . . . no one is sure when exactly you lost consciousness . . .”
He watched Adne’s face, waiting for her to fill in the empty space, but Adne just nodded, unwilling to answer the questions Connor didn’t ask.
Her friends were polite, of course, expressing their concerns over Adne’s well-being before diving into the interrogation she knew was coming. Propped up in bed, Adne tried to answer each question truthfully, but vaguely, and soon she could see frustration registering on her friends’ faces.
I don’t have a choice. They would never understand.
Adne snuck a glance at her hand. Her skin was smooth, unblemished.
I remember thorns and blood and fire.
Closing her eyes, she too easily recalled the ripping of her skin, the burning of her flesh—but it had all been in her head. How could it have seemed so real?
Agony wasn’t all Adne remembered. She could still hear heavy footfalls in the snow. A voice with an entrancing low, rich timbre.
It wasn’t real. None of it was real.
Except the wolf.
When Adne had made it clear she’d said all she was going to about that strange night—which wasn’t much at all—Sabine had told her about finding wolf tracks beside the drag marks where her body had been hauled through the snow. But when Sabine had asked if Adne remembered a wolf in the garden, Adne had kept silent.
Days had passed, and life had returned to its usual rhythms, and Adne held the truth back.
I heard them howling.
• • •
“Adne?” Sabine’s voice pulled Adne from her thoughts. “Did you want to add anything?”