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“Edvar.”

He sighed. “Fine. I’ll try.”

“Thank you.”

She gestured him back toward the main formation, intending to go check in with Levek, too, when they entered the clearing where they’d planned to break for lunch.

They stopped in their tracks.

The clearing was full of dark poppies.

Chapter Six

Her stomach twisted, unsettled.

After all this time, the sight of the poppies still made her want to vomit. Or cry. Or both. She knew if she paused, let her mind take even a moment’s break, her father’s voice would be back to haunt her. To make her feel small. She hated feeling that way.

She met Pyetar’s eyes, and there was worry in their blue depths.

Pyetar’s role in the distribution of the poppies was one of the many reasons her clan distrusted him, even though it had turned out to be Karvek’s operation. It had been her greatest reason for hating him at first—thinking he was responsible for the pain of her father’s addiction and death. For the abuse she had suffered for years. She knew better now.

All that pain was a large part of the reason Pyetar volunteered to handle dismantling his brother’s operation. Iryana was grateful the brigade took point on destroying the poppies. It meant she didn’t have to spend as much time around them.

“They shouldn’t be blooming this late in the year,” someone whispered behind them. Another added, “It’s unnatural.”

They were right. But these poppies looked to be at the height of health, as if they’d just bloomed. As if the cool autumn air were nothing but a warm breeze.

Iryana’s breath was shaky as she stepped around the edge of the clearing.

“Make a perimeter,” Pyetar ordered his soldiers. “Burn the field. Do it quickly; we will need to get out of the area as soon as it’s done.”

It wasn’t the safest plan; their group was small to be attracting so much notice, but the poppies had to burn. One soldier started pulling torches out of her bag. Iryana walked to where her group had clustered together.

“Edvar, join the perimeter,” she commanded, ignoring the pained look on his face. “Levek, help burn the field. The rest of you will wait over here.”

Her cousins grumbled but did as she asked, leaving her to guard their charges.

Pyetar formed his beast spear, similar to her own, and took up guard beside her. The unforged would have their shields to protect themselves, but if burning the field drew the attention of a pack, they would be the most vulnerable.

Iryana observed the trees, fully alert.

“This wasn’t here a week ago,” Pyetar said in a hushed voice. Unease rippled through her. Iryana shuddered. It took normal poppies six weeks to go from sprout to bloom like this.

“It’s not the first time we’ve found poppies where we didn’t expect them.” She looked back to watch the first poppies turning to ash.

That night, the sky was clear, letting the quarter moon illuminate their campsite in an ethereal glow. Her cousins and their charges had retired to their tents, so Iryana had taken advantage of the opportunity to finally slip away.

She desperately needed a break from the awkward tension. They had been marching for four days straight, and they were likely still a few days out from reaching the temple.

Iryana’s feet ached, and the chilly night air bit at her exposed face, but she wove through the tents in search of a friendly face.

Vaneshta, with her green captain’s belt and a warm coat over her armor, was instructing a few soldiers moving out to expand the watch. Their campsite was more exposed than usual, so they were maintaining a wide perimeter. Iryana waited patiently for Vaneshta to finish.

Vaneshta smiled at her, the grin so casual and free that Iryana couldn’t help but return it. The smile softened Vaneshta’s usually serious, square face. Her hair was brushed out and unfashionably loose down her back; a warm cap sat on her head, fur covering her forehead above her fierce amber eyes.

“You finally have a night off!” Vaneshta chuckled.

Iryana nodded. “Figured I should take advantage while I have the chance.”