A crow's caw jolted Lina awake. Leaves stuck to her cheek, and sticks pressed into her shoulder. She groaned and pushed herself upright.
How did I get here?
Leaves whirled through the forest, crackling as they brushed together. The damp scent of moss and earth hung heavy in the air, laced with something sharp, like magic after a storm. The only forest near Stonecross lay along the border.
Lina clutched her head as the woods spun. Her fingers tangled in her hair. When she pulled them free, she screamed.
Dried blood caked her hands.
She pushed to her feet, swaying beneath the looming trees. Blood stiffened her dress. A ragged opening marked the place where the sword had pierced beneath her ribs.
With shaking fingers, she felt for the wound. Broken gasps escaped her as she remembered dying. She'd drowned in her own blood.
But beneath the torn fabric, her skin was whole.
She'd gone to the town mage to ask about the voice. The sentinel had caught her wrist, drawn his sword—
Her vision narrowed. Her knees folded, dropping her into the leaves.
I'm dead. I should be dead. I died.
Lina hugged her knees and pressed her forehead against them.
You're alive.
Relief threaded through his voice.
I think so.
I thought he killed you. His breath caught. You died.
She shuddered.
I felt you die, he whispered.
Pain spiked through their connection, sharp enough to steal her breath. Lina curled tighter, waiting for it to pass.
I knew they killed magic users outside the guild. I didn't think my magic would affect you.
His voice faded. Her skin felt too cold beneath her hands. She released her legs and folded her hands in her lap, concentrating on the pressure of one palm against the other.
I'm alive. It's all right.
How?
I don't know.
Your wounds?
She touched her side again.
Healed.
Thank the goddess.
A strained laugh escaped her. Necromancers don't bring people back like this.
Reanimated corpses kept their wounds. Lina winced at her own attempt at reassurance.
How would she go back to the inn? Fin might help her. But what if Arystelle had told him what happened? Then again, would they admit to executing her without a trial?
I'd hate to see you walking around with a sword wound in your chest.
Lina stilled. The joke should have comforted her. Instead, she looked down at the blood on her dress.
That shouldn't have…
What's wrong?
I don't—I can't remember. I don't know.
Why do you sound hurt?
Silence stretched between them. She had died, and somehow every wound had healed. Yet he sounded as though he could barely breathe.
What do I call you?
His breathing faltered across the bond. Lina drew her knees close again and rested her cheek against them.
Let me help you through this.
Raithe, he murmured.
"Raithe," she repeated, trying the sound of his name aloud.
The sun crested the horizon. Light spread between the trees, and somewhere above her, the crow called again. The world kept moving as if nothing had happened. She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself.
How were you hurt?
You said your name was—
Lina went still. Was she so easy to forget? Her throat tightened, though she tried to swallow the feeling before he heard it.
I'm sorry. I can't—
Lina.
Lina, he repeated.
She rubbed her cheek against her knee.
How long have I been… asleep?
Four days.
She lifted her head.
Four days?
Don't leave me again.
Lina straightened, ready to retort.
I can't lose you.
The words caught in her throat. Her heart pounded at the intensity in his voice. He'd forgotten her name, yet spoke as though losing her was more than he could bear.
Elinora.
He repeated it, over and over, as though trying to keep hold of it.
"Raithe, what happened to you?" she asked the empty forest.
A chill prickled along her spine. For a heartbeat, the scent of iron and cold stone overwhelmed the damp earth. Lina swayed, bracing a hand against the ground. At the edge of her mind, she glimpsed a figure curled in darkness, his breath ragged, pain bleeding through their bond.