Marek took a step back from the red-haired woman. His boots scuffed against the dirt and dried leaves on the forest floor. He did not believe her. None of what she just said made sense.
"You are a liar. You're not Odhran." He said.
The red-haired woman did not react with anger. She watched him. Then she leaned in closer again. Before Marek could move away, she grabbed his wrist. Her fingers were cold, and her grip was stronger than he expected.
She shut her eyes.
Marek tried to pull away, but her hold tightened. Her face remained still. Then her eyelids flickered. She kept them closed for several seconds. She saw flashes of his journey so far.
When she opened her eyes again, her expression had changed. She looked at Marek as if she recognized something inside his body that he could not see in himself.
"Forsaken," she mumbled, her hold on him loosened.
Marek jerked his arm away. He stumbled back two steps and nearly lost his balance on a root pushing out of the ground.
