“Will he be alright?”

  Gil was lying on his side. Sister Embra sat a few paces away with a potted bowl wedged between her thighs. She had a wooden spoon in one plump fist and was mixing together a pale brown paste that smelled like honey and earth. Brother Pel had finished dabbing at the wound and was cutting away Gil’s ragged shirt with a small pair of shears.

  Embra shot me a smile. “Our Master Gil’s a tough old boot, Miss Brin. He’ll be right as rain. But you,” she pointed the spoon at me, “Are supposed to be wrapped up in a blanket.”

  I adjusted my pack over one shoulder. Gil’s eyes, watery and weary, were fixed on me with an intensity that was unnerving. “Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be alright. I really need to be going.”

  “Leaving,” the stablemaster rasped. His gaze sharpened, holding mine. Pleading.

  I swallowed. “Soon. There’s something I…” I dragged my tongue across my lower lip, watching the two clerics closely. Renner’s warning rang like a gong through the back of my mind. They seemed so friendly, so genuine, but… how could I be sure?

  And the possibility that they were somehow involved in all this wasn’t the only problem.

  Would it put them in danger if I told them what happened? If there’s other pacted people in this town, and the clerics start asking too many questions…

  The thought made me nauseous. I chose my words carefully, watching Gil’s ashen face for any kind of reaction, and murmured, “Do people ever go missing in Snowmelt?”

  Pel furrowed his brow. Embra blinked up at me.

  “Missing, dear? What a thing to ask. Of course not.” She hesitated, then asked gently, “Did something happen on the road, Miss Brin?”

  I didn’t answer, just held Gil’s eyes. His lips were pressed together and he was shaking his head back and forth ever so slightly. Begging me to be silent.

  After a moment Embra continued, in a tone that was very gentle, “We’ve heard there’s been some danger to the east. Folks dealing with monsters. Horrible.” She set the bowl down beside Gil and scooted over. She wiped her hands with a damp cloth and then dipped both into the mixture. “I’m sorry for whatever trouble you might’ve seen, dear, but I promise our town is very safe. You’re safe.”

  The statement made me flinch back. I swept my gaze to her, muscles tightening. And was met with a warm, sad smile. She was looking at me with nothing but compassion.

  I need to relax. I won’t get anywhere in all this mess if I’m ready to run or fight the moment someone puts me on edge. I’m not like Renner. I don’t, I can’t, think the worst of people. I let out a slow breath, willing my shoulders to relax. She’s wrong, but she’s just being kind. She’s worried about me.

  I managed a wry half-smile. “This does seem like a very nice place.” I’m only half-lying. The town itself seems very charming. The monster and the nefarious going-ons in the night, less so.

  She bobbed her head and began to spread the brown paste over Gil’s exposed flesh, murmuring soothing little sounds whenever he winced. “It is, dear. May I ask where you came from?”

  “Fellbrook. I’m on my north to Pinnacle. My friends and I stopped here last night. Friend,” I amended quickly, feeling blood rush to my face.

  It ends with you tied up and gagged. My pulse quickened.

  “J-just one friend. But I haven’t been able to find her this morning. Her name’s Teela. She’s about my age, very thin, with red hair.” I watched their faces closely, hoping for a glimpse of recognition and praying I wouldn’t see anything damning.

  Pel grunted again and began to carefully pour out crushed mint from a jar. Embra shook her head.

  “No, Miss Brin, you’re the town’s first visitor in months. But as I said, this is a very safe place. I’m sure your friend is just fine, wherever she may have gone.”

  I swallowed. For a moment ice spiked in my chest. My eyes began to drift towards Gil’s mangled hand, because Teela wasn’t fine and what had happened to him was-

  I tore my gaze away.

  I can’t fall apart. I won’t fall apart.

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  Not yet, at least.

  I headed towards the door. “Right. Thank you, but I should be-”

  “Hold.” Brother Pel’s quiet earthquake of a voice stopped me in my tracks. I turned with a shiver as he rose, walked towards me… and then one wrinkled hand undid the clasp of his faded gray cloak. He swept the garment over my shoulders, grunted, and then tottered back to his herbs.

  His wife chuckled and shot me a wink. “Always the gentleman. Don’t worry about returning it, dear. You just stay warm. Alright?”

  I blinked back the sudden prick of tears. “A-alright. Thank you.”

  As I headed back out into the bitter air, I could just feel Gil’s eyes following me.

  I stood for a long moment, breath puffing out as silver mist, and considered my options.

  Not that I even have many options. I could go to the Watch. Renner seemed convinced that would end badly, but… perhaps if I’m very careful with what I say. Perhaps if I don’t mention Fae or pacts or anything so grim, but I just say that my friend is missing. And then ask very casually if other people have ever gone missing, and if there’s been any trails or clues.

  It seemed like a fairly reasonable idea, and yet… something in the back of my mind insisted that I should wait.

  Embra had said Snowmelt was a very safe place. Perhaps she was lying. Or perhaps her memories were being muddled, like Master Lewen. Unless he was lying, too.

  I groaned into my palm.

  This is impossible! I don’t know who to trust! And if I don’t know who’s lying and who’s earnest…

  No. Calm down. Focus. How do I find Teela?

  Gil said he left me. Left me, implying that he was originally going to take me somewhere. Is he supposed to bring people to the monster? That’s certainly what it sounded like.

  But… then he left. He couldn’t go through with it, or he was worried about Renner interfering. So instead of us going to the Fae… the Fae came to us.

  To the window.

  I swore and took off at a sprint towards the inn. By the time I reached it the sun was higher, though still hazy and shadowed by clouds. The air had grown a bit warmer, and there were quite a few people bustling by and chatting happily on the streets.

  I hurried around the back of the building, glancing behind me with wide, furtive eyes. I had gotten several strange looks while running, but no one seemed to be following me or taking untoward interest in my behavior.

  Where was our room? The birch tree is over there, at the base of that hill, and it was right outside our window, so… there.

  My gaze latched onto the glass. I approached slowly, looking all around the half-frozen dirt for any kind of footprints or tracks, but saw nothing.

  Salt. I suppose a trail was too much to hope for. But, let’s see… the hill goes that way, and it looks like the town wall crests at the top. If there’s a Fae nearby, it would have had to find shelter from the sun. Unless it went back to its realm. But… if that’s what happened, then there’s no hope of me following it. Not awake, at least. But I couldn’t possibly fall asleep right now, and I don’t think bludgeoning myself into unconsciousness is the wisest strategy.

  So. I’ll assume it stayed here, in the mortal realm. And unless it’s hiding out in someone’s cellar… then it’s outside the town. Maybe in that direction. Maybe.

  I stared at the top of the hill. It was a lot of speculation on my part and didn’t feel like much to go on. But I didn’t have much else.

  A whiff of festering meat and dead plants hit my nose. I covered my mouth and glared up at the window.

  So much for the rotbutter. It didn’t do a salted thing.

  I could make out the congealed smear of yellow beneath the window. It looked like old, melted butter.

  I frowned. I could see the foul substance above my head, farther than an arms’ length away. But the pungent odor was coming from somewhere to my side. Somewhere closer.

  My eyes trailed down and around, and I gasped. It was the tree. It looked normal enough in most places; scaly gray bark, swaying branches, knots and divots patterned all around.

  But… I stepped closer, following the smell. There. Just above my eyeline there was a patch of wood, a bit wider than my head, that seemed sunken. As if it was decaying, but only in the one spot. And it looked wet. There was dark liquid glistening within the cracks of rotten bark. For a moment I froze, afraid that if I looked any harder I would see bloody crimson.

  Breathe. Breathe. Teela needs me.

  I stood on my tiptoes and squinted. The smell hit me full in the face; rotting plants, dead meat. Decay.

  And… no red. It looked almost like black oil had seeped into the warped bark. But it definitely wasn’t blood.

  Unless it’s the tree’s blood.

  The thought was so sudden, so bizarre, that I huffed a laugh. It was a ridiculous idea. The kind of thing someone would make up in a frightening children’s tale. Trees had sap and resin. Trees didn’t bleed.

  And yet… I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the gleaming dark and couldn’t quite force the thought away.

  It smells familiar. Like the rotbutter, and like… like…

  Yesterday.

  Like the lifeless birds, blackened leaves, and fetid patch of grass we’d stumbled upon in the woods. I knitted my brows together, staring up.

  What does that mean? The same creature that's creeping into town and preying on people is... what, setting enormous bird-killing traps?

  Why?

  My face was so close that I was gagging on the stench. But I could also make it out more clearly. And as I looked closer, a chill began to crawl up my spine.

  It wasn’t just a shapeless patch. No, there was a clear figure to the form, despite being sunken into the bark. One end of the warped, glistening wood tapered to a curve. In the middle it became broader, rounder. And then the other end narrowed and stretched out into five spindles that curled around the trunk.

  It was a handprint.