“Wake up, my sweet Cahala,” a voice whispered into her ear. “You’re starving again, my dear. It can’t be this way.”
Cahala’s eyes snapped open, and she stared at the cloth of her tent. She turned on her bedroll, searching for the person who had spoken, but in the faint light of the lantern, she found no one. The Gildya’s contraption stood on the table right where Cahala had left it, and its magic wavered as it waned. Another stone was gone, and each lasted only a couple of weeks. Anger filled her veins, as it reminded her of the Gildya’s greed and their half-made inventions that would make all Devanshari broke within a year, if not sooner. That feeling brought clarity and lucidity, and she remembered what had woken her up. She listened carefully to every sound that reached her tent, but n
