Thirty days after Aria left, the training yard stood empty. Coughing came from the medical tents at all hours, and sickness covered the usual pine smoke.
The rogues had taken the stores and weapons they wanted. They left us with the poison.
I slept badly in the den. The torn bond ached under my ribs whenever I turned toward Aria's side of the bed. Meals arrived cold, if they arrived at all.
Reports piled across the council table. No one knew how Aria had sorted them before they reached me. The pouch beside my bed remained empty.
I found Elara in the main medical tent, crying over three of my best trackers.
They had returned from patrol with minor cuts. Now all three lay paralyzed, gray-skinned and barely breathing.
A bowl of foul paste bubbled beside the cots. Dark blisters marked ev
