They moved the camp a half-mile deeper into the Reach before finally settling for what remained of the night, too rattled to sleep and too exhausted not to try. Luna sat wrapped in a borrowed cloak — Ronan's, offered without a word and accepted without argument — watching the new fire with a wariness she suspected she'd carry for the rest of the journey.
It was Corvin who finally broke away from the group, moving to the edge of the firelight where he could be alone with the satchel he still hadn't opened. Luna watched him go, and after a moment's hesitation, followed.
"You should burn it," she said, settling onto a fallen log a careful distance from him. "Whatever's in there. Before it becomes the thing that gets one of us killed."
Corvin didn't look up from the satchel in his hands. "Y
