“The Eydis Elixirs were able to bring her body temperature up,” Tess told them. “And from what they could discern without speaking with Adne, their best guess is that she wasn’t at the door very long—which is a damn lucky thing.”
Ethan frowned, gazing at the dented snow. “What the hell was she doing?”
“I don’t think we’ll find out until she wakes up,” Tess told him. “But that’s not the only thing I’m concerned about.”
Tess pointed to the snow just beyond the shape Adne’s prostrate form had left. “Sabine, tell me what you see there.”
Sabine looked at the place Tess indicated. Her heart knocked hard against her ribs. Before the place Adne’s body had come to rest was a trail in the snow.
“Someone dragged her here,” Sabine said quietly.
“Not someone,” Tess replied. She pointed again and Sabine saw them. In the snow beside the drag marks were unmistakable tracks. Wolf prints.
“Oh my God,” Sabine breathed. Had Adne been in trouble and had the Haldis pack, sensing it, come to her aid? Was that even possible? “Sarah was right.”
“Are those . . .” Ethan stopped speaking and stared at the tracks.
“What do you think, Sabine?” Tess asked quietly.
Sabine shook her head slowly. “I have no idea. It doesn’t seem like the pack would range this close to a populated area. Wolves don’t like humans. But Sarah said she saw Shay.”
“And these aren’t ordinary wolves,” Ethan said. “That matters, doesn’t it?”
“Except they are ordinary wolves now,” Sabine replied. “For all intents and purposes the closing of the Rift means that Guardians are one hundred percent wolf.”
Tess nodded. “That’s what I’ve been given to understand. But is it possible that they could have some residual memory? Shay in particular? Right before the Rift closed, we all knew he was the wild card. I think most of us were surprised when he ended up a wolf.”
“Sabine.” Ethan looked at her. “You’ve seen the pack more than anyone else. Have you noticed anything about Shay? Anything not wolfy going on there?”
Sabine thought about her trips up the mountainside. The hours she’d spent watching the wolves near Haldis Cavern. She’d seen them and they’d seen her. At times she’d believed the pack knew her. Knew that she once belonged with them. But Sabine wasn’t entirely convinced that belief was any more than wishful thinking. A cold comfort drawn from the past.
And Shay hadn’t seemed any different from the other wolves. He was their alpha. They were his pack. All seemed right in their world.
“Not that I noticed, but I guess anything is possible,” Sabine said. “What happened here when the Rift closed . . . it was new. I don’t think anyone can know the full ramifications.”
“I suppose not,” Tess sighed.
“Are you okay?” Ethan rested his hand on Sabine’s shoulder.
She nodded, though her pulse still hummed in her veins, not quite frantic, but faster than she liked. Sabine let herself lean against Ethan, but turned her head toward Tess.
“Not that I mind,” Sabine said, “but how is it that you’re the one asking all these questions? Is that your new job? Head Inquisitor?”
Tess laughed, rubbing the back of her neck as though abashed. “I’m not quite sure what Anika was thinking, but when the Arrow asks you to step up, you say yes.”
“Sounds important,” Ethan said.
“I’ll say.” Tess nodded. “I hope you’ll keep not minding me being in charge, Sabine, because I’m your new Guide.”
SHILOH WASN’T much of a talker, Connor found, and it was driving him a little nuts. Not knowing what had befallen Adne left Connor at his wits’ end. His only means of distracting himself was his usual fallback—easy banter. But with Shiloh it seemed that banter was neither usual nor easy.
“You’re a fan of the classics, I take it?” Connor asked, attempting yet another foray into conversation.
“I’m sorry?” Shiloh kept a brisk pace as they walked through Rowan Estate’s east wing.
“Warrior archetype,” Connor answered. “Tall, dark, silent. You fit the bill. I can respect that.”
Shiloh didn’t answer.
“Good for you, not breaking character,” Connor muttered.
When they stopped in front of a door, Connor swore under his breath in relief.
Shiloh gave a quick rap on the heavy wood. A robed woman, one of the Eydis healers, answered his knock.
“Is it all right for us to come in?” Shiloh asked.
Screw all right, Connor thought. If the woman objected, he was determined to blow right past her.
Even so, he was glad when she nodded and stepped aside to let him pass. Connor had been telling himself all morning that no matter what he saw when they brought him to Adne, he’d stay calm. He managed . . . sort of.
Connor didn’t shout or cry, but he did run to the bedside and grasp Adne’s hand before asking anyone if it was okay to do so. Her fingers were cool in his grip, but not frigid. He knelt beside the bed, trying to gather as much information as he could by just looking at her.
She was far too pale. That was clear. Adne’s skin was always fair, but the blush of life that painted her cheeks was missing. She looked cold. Like time had frozen her in place.
It occurred to Connor how sick stories like Snow White and Sleeping Beauty were. There wasn’t anything romantic or hopeful in this scene. Anyone who loved a person and found them in a state like this wouldn’t feel heroic or courageous. Connor only encountered a near-overwhelming despair.
“What happened to her?” He managed to croak out the words.
“We’re not certain,” the healer answered. “The morning patrol found her outside the mansion, unconscious, and we haven’t been able to wake her. But I can assure you that she’s out of immediate danger.”
That news brought Connor some comfort, but not much. Physically, Adne might be stable, but something else plagued her. Something that had driven her to Rowan Estate in the middle of the night. But what?
Adne’s fingers twitched in Connor’s grasp. She started to murmur and Connor thought she was waking, but her eyes remained closed.
“She’s been restless like that on and off,” the healer told Connor. “We can’t make sense of her words.”