The first thing Keke heard was the crackling of burning wood. She struggled to open her eyes and found it difficult to draw a full breath. As she licked her lips, she readjusted the bottom half of her body, and a sharp sting dug into her chest. Her breath hitched, and the voice of another soon came.

  “She’s waking up.” A blurry figure leaned over her, placing a cool hand against her forehead. It felt heavenly against her searing skin. “Get me another rag.” The sound of boots against floorboards marched from one side of the room to the other. Keke’s vision began to clear. Long brown hair tied into innumerable braids draped over one shoulder alongside her cloak. Piercing green eyes bore into her with a disapproving glare. Sylva. “Can you hear me?”

  Keke’s throat felt like sandpaper. Unable to respond with her lips, she managed a weak nod.

  “Good.” Another woman came to Sylva’s side moments later, handing her the rag. Sylva gently placed the wet cloth against Keke’s forehead. A satisfied sigh escaped Keke’s lips. Her mind could breathe a little. “You and I are going to have a long talk once you’re able to speak. You’re lucky to be alive.”

  Keke shut her eyes. She was mortified by what had happened, and feared what Sylva’s wrath would entail. From the moment she’d met her, she held the air of a leader. She was a person who was firm and fair, and up until now, Keke had been grateful for her assistance. Now, however, she was terrified that her failure meant her exile from Khasstead.

  “Bella is going to watch over you,” Sylva said. “If you feel any worse, let her know. Do you understand?”

  Keke nodded weakly again.

  “Good.” Sylva inhaled through her nose, the muscles of her jaw clenched. “Get some rest.”

  Sylva walked away. As soon as the door shut, Keke fell back into a pitch-black slumber.

  Bella was the very picture of accommodating. Whenever Keke raised her hand, Bella was there at a moment’s notice. Bella nursed her tired throat with several glasses of water, exchanging the wet rags as needed, and ensuring that the bandages around her chest remained clean. Hours passed, and when Sylva returned to the room, Keke wagered the morning had come.

  “How are you feeling?” Sylva asked.

  Keke swallowed the hard lump in her throat. Her heart hammered fiercely, and her eyes darted from Sylva to anything else in the room she could vaguely call interesting. “Better than before.”

  “Good.” She looked at Bella. “Leave us. I’ll come to retrieve you when we’re done.”

  Bella nodded. “Of course, Sister Sylva.” Keke’s anxiety rose with each step Bella took toward the door, her fear peaking when Bella shut the door behind her.

  Now it was just Keke and Sylva. Sylva took the chair next to the small, nearby table, positioned it at Keke’s bedside, and sat down. Keke moved to sit up, and Sylva gestured for her to remain. “Don’t push it. The wounds were infected,” she said. “Tell me what happened.”

  Keke licked her lips. Memories of Elona’s disappointed face whenever she’d broken a very important rule came back as fresh as yesterday. “T-Thorn told me that she would trade the map for a lover’s snare.”

  “Thorn did?”

  Keke nodded. “Yes.”

  Sylva appeared to chew on the words for a minute, then nodded. “Continue.”

  “Seeing as I didn’t have anything else to barter with, I reluctantly accepted.” She wrestled one thumb over the other under the blankets as she spoke. “I-I’m familiar with the flower. I’ve seen it, so I knew I could trade for the map.” Her mind somersaulted with dozens of lies or half-truths she could tell Sylva. But in the end, she knew that would only worsen her situation. “I was able to find a budding snare. I used a knife to cut the petals free of the barbs, and filled three of my vials with them.”

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  “Risky, but go on.”

  Keke drew as deep a breath as she could muster before she continued. “The spirit of the wolf I spoke to told me to slay a furlocke. As it so happens”—she glanced in Sylva’s direction, her attention rapt—“I came upon a furlocke.”

  “Tell me you did your research before engaging with the Encroacher.”

  Keke sucked in her lips to form a thin line. “I…did not.”

  “I see.”

  “I didn’t use [Pinpoint Weakness]. I feared that I would alert it. It was distracted with food, so I thought a single arrow in the back of the head would kill it.” Why hadn’t it worked? Her gear was some of the best around, and her aim was on point. It was simply impossible that a creature’s skull could withstand a shot like that. “I’ve never heard of an Encroacher that couldn’t be killed in that manner.” She shook her head, and a thought occurred to her. “It had to have been a Defiled.”

  The hearth crackled at the back of the room. Sylva gazed into its depths for several seconds, tapping one of her elbows with her forefinger. A gentle pattering of rain surrounded the cabin, and after what felt like minutes, Sylva sighed and returned her gaze to Keke.

  “That was no Defiled, Keke,” Sylva said.

  Keke lolled her head across the pillow to look at Sylva. “It had to have been.” She coughed. “What creature could withstand an arrow in the head like that?”

  Syvla glared. “The furlocke.” Her tone took on a gravelly edge. “The very creature you encountered. The one that nearly took your life yesterday.”

  “That’s impossible,” she hissed. “I’m telling you, no Encroacher’s skull could have deflected that shot. It was perfect.” She knew armor could block arrows, like the armor that Cailu wore, but an Encroacher’s head?

  Sylva’s frown deepened. “Do you doubt me?”

  That was not a question Keke wanted to answer. So she didn’t. “You told me that everyone’s trial is different, secret. You didn’t want to hear it.” How was she supposed to ask for information when Sylva didn’t want to hear the mere mention of her trial? This wasn’t her fault.

  Sylva scoffed. “Do not put words in my mouth, Sister. It was not for me to know who judged you. That was all. That did not mean for you to forgo study or refuse discussion regarding your mark. Any [Hunter] worth their tail knows that preparation makes the [Hunter].” She rose to her feet, hands clenched into fists. “You acted rashly.”

  Keke put a hand over the side of her face to hide Sylva from view. “I had it,” she whispered. “I had it in my sights.”

  “Misguided,” Sylva said. “Yesterday, you were the prey.”

  Keke replayed the fight in her head over and over again. The knife had dug into its claws with relative ease. The skin was tough, but the blade had punctured it without issue. “Maybe it wasn’t a furlocke. Perhaps I fought something else.”

  “Describe it.”

  Keke hesitated. Did every [Hunter]-to-be see an image of their mark? Would Sylva know that? “M-maybe I was wrong.”

  “I’m disappointed. Not at any point have you asked me what you could have done differently. You have an opportunity to learn from your mistakes, but instead you make excuses.”

  Keke clenched her jaw. She’d taken all the proper precautions. It was a single misstep, that’s all. “I’m not making excuses.” She couldn’t hide the defensive tone in her voice. “I know what I did. I know what I’ll do better.”

  “Let’s hope for your sake that’s true.”

  “Where’s my [Cat Pack]?” Keke hoped she could change the subject.

  “Your [Cat Pack], and the items within, are fine. Your armor will need to be repaired, but the effects will remain. Whoever made it knew what they were doing. It bears a master’s touch.”

  “Good.” She pulled the covers down to find that her chest was bare. Several strips of cloth dressed each of the cuts that the supposed furlocke had carved across her skin. Each one bore a thin line of red. She touched them gingerly, hissing when it stung. “Will these scar?”

  “Bella has done everything she can,” Sylva said slowly. “She assures me that the scars will be minimal.”

  Keke nodded. “I see.”

  Sylva turned, tail whipping behind her, and marched to the front door with heavier steps than she had prior. She threw open the door, then glanced at Keke over her shoulder. “Do not assume that next time someone will be there to save you. You made a grave mistake, and it’s best that you recognize that.”

  Keke glared. “I’ll remember that.”

  As Sylva exited, Keke heard her call Bella back in. Bella returned, her blonde ponytail bobbing behind her, then shut the door. “Can I get you anything, Sister?” Bella asked.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  Keke nestled back under the covers, pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek. How dare Sylva talk to her like a child and try to deflect responsibility back to her? What else was she supposed to assume when she’d been told to withhold the information regarding her mark?

  This isn’t my fault. I had a perfect shot. I took every precaution.

  She tried to focus on healing, but even as she fell back to sleep, her thoughts remained on Sylva.

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