22
Carrying Myla, I march out of the stables. Outside, a starless night sky arches overhead. Pausing, I soak up the moment: a quiet night by the forest and Myla in my arms. Her scent surrounds me. Cinnamon and sunshine.
My hunter’s sense kicks in. The hairs on my neck stand on end. I’m not alone here. Sure enough, Bera steps out of the shadows. She does a good job of pretending to have been walking by. “Why, Lincoln. Fancy seeing you here.”
I shake my head. “Mother should let you sleep.”
“I’m not here as a spy for Octavia. I helped Myla get on her armor, you know. Is she all right?”
“She should be fine. Just sleeping off a scratch from the arachnoid.” It seems I got all the poison out of her system. I’ll know for certain within the next hour.
Myla’s tail pops up. The arrowhead end po
