“I never said I—”
“When you do,” he said easily. “There’s more here than a hike in the hills, than a quest. Don’t you wonder, fáidh, what it is?”
She didn’t know how to do this, Sasha decided, didn’t know how to hold up her end of flirty, sexy conversation. And she quit while she was behind.
“I wonder why Riley’s taking the left fork when the cave’s to the right.”
“Is it then?” Bran asked.
“Riley! It’s that way.”
Up ahead, Riley stopped and turned. “Map says left.”
“But it’s right. You can see—” She broke off, stared ahead where she’d clearly seen the dark mouth of the cave under a stone ledge. It simply wasn’t there.
“I thought I saw . . .”
“Maybe you did. The seer or the map?” Bran asked the others.
After a moment’s hesitation, Riley nodded. “We’ll take the right fork.”
It offered a harder climb, and didn’t that just figure. The grade went steep, and the track rutted and rocky. Yet flowers bloomed, sturdy and stubborn, and a narrow stream, barely a handspan wide, cut its way down through springing green and dusty rock.
A Judas tree bloomed gloriously where the rutted track forked yet again.
“Which way?” Riley asked her.
“I don’t—”
“Don’t think.” Bran laid a hand on her shoulder, featherlight. “Know.”
“The left this time. They missed the first fork when they told you. It’s to the left, but they didn’t see . . .”
What lived inside her spread—arms lifted to pull away a veil.
Sasha’s own arms dropped to her sides; her eyes went to cobalt.
“The devil’s breath comes through its dripping jaws. In its belly lie the bones of murdered men who scream in the dark, of women who weep for lost children. Only light from fire, from water, from ice, will free them.
“Sorry.” She braced against the trunk of the tree while her head spun with visions, with the echo of her own words. “I’m a little dizzy. It came on so fast, like a shove off a cliff.”
“Here.” Annika offered a bottle. “It’s water. It’s good.”
“Thanks.”
“My boots aren’t pretty.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake—” Riley began.
“But Riley was right. You were right,” she said to Riley. “They aren’t pretty, but they are strong. And strong is important.”
“Yes.” Sasha took a steadying breath. “Yes, it is.” She handed Annika the bottle. “Thank you.” To the left, fear pricked at her skin, tiny little thorns, but she couldn’t turn away.
“We’re close now.”
She followed the track, and her instincts. Her legs ached from the hike, but she ignored the pain. Her lungs labored, but she pushed up the track toward what she feared.
When the sun flashed in her eyes, she blinked the glare away.