The drums did not stop. A terrible reminder that the sun was slipping toward its demise, they pounded across the stronghold like a second heartbeat, each blow echoing through stone and marrow.
In their chamber, silence pressed down heavier than the noise outside. Because her hands needed something to do, Elaria perched on the side of the narrow bed with her healer's kit open in front of her, not because she would be permitted to use it in the circle. She sharpened blades, lined up herbs, and rearranged and rearranged until the crushed leaves' bitter tang irritated her nostrils.
Draven watched from the doorway. He had been silent for a few minutes, his presence a threatening tempest confined to the little room. Every time he moved, his golden eyes caught the little light that came in fr
