“Get up," Raven said.
Amber rolled over on the cot, rubbing her eyes. “It's barely light out."
“We eat at dawn," he replied, already halfway into his uniform. “You'll need the energy."
“For what? Whistle duty?" she muttered.
“Yes." His silver eyes met hers. “And breathing exercises. Twice a day."
She sat up slowly. “You're making a schedule."
“I'm keeping you alive."
Amber raised an eyebrow. “You mean keeping yourself stable."
“Same thing now," Raven said.
—
By midday, they were seated in a sunlit chamber overlooking the snowy cliffs. Amber held the whistle loosely in her hands as Raven stood opposite her, arms crossed.
“Again," he instructed.
She exhaled, raised the whistle, and blew.
The note was steady, but Raven flinched.
“Too sharp," he said.
Amber frowned. “That was th
