Everna may as well have not slept at all.

It was more than simply being tired. The exhaustion that followed her into wakefulness wasn't one born of sore muscles or aching limbs after a long day's work. More than the grogginess that followed a long night of drinking, it was all-encompassing utter fatigue of the body, the mind, and everything in between. Her shoulders sagged, as if the weight of the realm bore down upon her.

Wil had become less of a riding partner and more of an awkward support. She leaned back against him, her head bobbing as she struggled to keep her eyes open for the last leg of the return trip. He was the only thing keeping her on the horse, his hand hovering at her side — or on her side, not that she was complaining — to prevent her from sliding off as she had almost done earlier that morning.

The others, save Adela, who'd fallen asleep against Lisette's back shortly after they climbed into their saddles, weren't nearly as exhausted. Cedric was wide awake, his eyes scanning the fall-touched forest. Vina's hands twitched over her lyre, but a pointed look from Lisette kept her from touching the strings. Dain, who'd never seen the Nivfell Woods, sat upright in the saddle, his blue eyes filled with awe as he stared up at the golden canopy.

The first time she nodded off, she woke to snow.

The temperature plummeted, and the forest transformed into a sea of barren trees blanketed with glittering snow. Gray clouds hung low in the sky once more, the promise of further snowfall lingering in the humid air. A chilled wind blew past and Everna curled into herself. Lisette hadn't thought to grab her coat before their desperate escape from the goblins.

The second time sleep claimed her, she woke to find Wil's cloak thrown over her shoulders and the glade before them.

The safe house sat on the eastern side of the glade, smoke rising from the chimney. At first glance, it appeared as nothing more than an old hunting lodge nestled between the twiggy remains of two large thickets and sheltered beneath the branches of a massive, low hanging oak. For Everna, it was a blessed sight if she'd ever seen one.

"Thank the gods," Lisette breathed. She steered her horse to the small stable on the edge of the clearing and dismounted. "I thought we'd never make it back."

"You and me both," Everna agreed.

She slid out of her saddle, sinking up to her knees in pillowy snow. It looked soft enough to lie on, but the biting cold that pierced through even the thick layers of her armor was enough to keep her last fraying thread of reason from breaking. Her legs were weights, heavy and lethargic as she waded through the snow towards the veranda, which was half buried beneath a sheet of sparkling white.

The moment she passed through the front door of the lodge, relief washed over her. Never in her life had she been so grateful to be inside. Brown wood — not blackened and smoldering and littered with piles of human ashes — lay beneath her feet. The crackling and popping of a fire came not from homes or hovels aflame, but a well-tended hearth on the far side of the room. Candle light rather than sunlight illuminated her surroundings.

She barely spared Osain, who sat at the table nearest the bar, a second glance as she stumbled up the stairs and into the hall. When she shouldered open the door to her room, she nearly sank to her knees in gratitude. She'd have a proper bed for the night, not grass or stone; a real ceiling overhead, not one rock or stars or leaves; and real clothes, not bloodied and dirty leathers. The realization filled her with enough energy to snatch her dress out of the wardrobe at the foot of her bed and hurry down the hall to the washroom.

She flung her armor into a careless pile near the door and seized the rag from the edge of the washbasin perched atop a wooden table. The water was cold as ice, but it was heaven against her skin, regardless. With every harsh swipe of the cloth, she tore the dirt and dried blood from her body — scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing until her hands ached and her skin was raw and angry. The water bled red when she dunked her hair and picked loose the mats, removing every speck of blood and grime.

The familiar touch of her dress, one sewn by her own hand, brought with it the sense of finality she needed. She blew out a breath, feeling a touch more rejuvenated, and dumped the murky water down the drain before refilling the basin from the pump above it. As simplistic as the task was, it felt right to do something normal for once.

The ordeal with Windhollow was over, and for the moment, that was enough for her.

Grabbing her discarded leathers, she stepped back into the hall just as Vina bolted out of her room, a fresh set of clothes in hand. She shoved past Lisette and Cedric as they reached the top of the stairs, knocking them both into the wall. Everna barely stepped out of the way as Vina stomped past, muttering something about "taking too damn long.” The moment the door slammed behind her, Everna released a sigh.

If she'd known Vina was next, she'd have left the dirty water in the basin.

"You're looking better," Lisette noted, rubbing her shoulder.

"I didn't think it'd be this exhausting," Everna said. "It wasn't so bad at first, but now I just want to crawl into bed and stay there for the next week."

Cedric gave her a sympathetic smile. "From what I understand, it wasn't exactly your average information run. And that was before Shroud showed up."

"And it's her fault," Vina snapped, her voice muffled by the door. "If she hadn't shown up, none of this would've happened!"

What little spirit she'd recovered fled in the wake of Vina's declaration. As much as it pained her to admit, she was right. If it weren't for her, Shroud wouldn't have had a reason to be in Windhollow; the informant wouldn't have had information regarding her importance to Shroud. She was the reason Dain and Adela's lives were in shambles — the reason so many innocent people were dead.

"Vina!" Lisette hissed.

"She shouldn't be here. You said it yourself! You said would lead Shroud straight to us and look at what happened!" The door rattled, as if she'd slammed her fist against it. "And don't even try to argue that she saved our lives. If it weren't for her, they wouldn't have needed saving in the first place! And she and Osain had the audacity to hide it from us! They knew what that informant had the whole time!"

Lisette pursed her lips. Beside her, Cedric shifted on his feet, pointedly looking at the floor. Neither of them could deny it; they knew she overheard their complaints. They knew Vina was right.

How long would it be before it happened again?

Ignoring Lisette's feeble attempt to argue the matter, Everna retreated into her room. She threw herself onto the bed, the old wooden frame creaking beneath her weight. The sheets were cool, the pillow soft against her skin. They smelled faintly of lavender. Perhaps someone had washed them since she left; she'd seen Leah fussing over the laundry a few times since she arrived.

Where the smell once brought her soothing calm, it did nothing to stem the ache in her gut — an ache that had not left since she severed a man's head from his shoulders. It didn't matter that it was Shroud. It didn't matter how cruel or vile or wicked they were, nor what they'd done.

She could still feel the blood on her face. The spot where his head collided with hers throbbed, though it hadn't been more than a tap. Her hands felt slick and sticky, though when she sat up to look, they were cleaner than they'd been in days, the skin still tinged pink from all the scrubbing.

Clammy, but not bloody.

With a shuddering breath, Everna burrowed her face into the pillow. She wanted to go home, back to her own room. The thought of facing her parents, however, filled her with dread.

They wouldn't understand. Her mother would demand to know why she'd kept everything from them; to know why she ran off for nearly two weeks without so much as a word. Her father would strangle her for breaking into the Guard post. They'd never let her out of their sight again, and it would be just another reminder of how many people she'd pulled into the mess.

Gods, they must be worried sick.

The first tears spilled over her eyes, soaking into the thin covering of the pillow, and she cursed. Everna hated crying — not because of how some viewed such a display of emotion, but because it accomplished nothing but leaving her with a nose congested and a head pounding. She was already miserable; she didn't need to add to it.

Still, the tears fell despite her attempts to force that damnable quivering of her lips to subside, and before long, the pillow beneath her was damp. Her nose ran, and the first signs of the coming headache blossomed behind her temples. Lifting her head, she wiped her face on the sleeve of her dress and drew in a shuddering breath.

Just above her sniffling, she heard the door handle turn, the hinges near silent as the door crept open.

The muffled sounds of an argument drifted down the hall. Everna heard Vina, vaguely, and Osain as well. There was a voice she didn't recognize at first, but after a moment, she realized it was Lisette yelling. Cedric's interjection fell on deaf ears, drowned out by two people talking at once.

The door opened further to reveal Wil. He stood on the threshold, glaring down the hall, his upper lip pulled back in disgust. The argument suddenly rose in volume, almost enough for her to make out what they were saying. Then, with a resounding slap, it came to an abrupt halt.

"Do I want to know?" she asked, fighting to keep her voice from wavering.

"Vina being Vina," he said. When he turned to look at her, she swore the icy look in his eyes thawed. "Don't pay her any mind. She's not winning that argument. In fact, I'm almost certain Osain just slapped the shit out of her. If Lisette didn't beat him to it. "

"It's not as if she's wrong," Everna sighed, glancing down at her hands. It didn't matter if she knew they were clean; she still expected to find them covered in blood.

He stepped fully into the room and pushed the door closed behind him. "You're not the first person to come stumbling into Shadowguard with Shroud on their ass."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Look," he pushed off the door and plopped down on the foot of her bed and, "you didn't ask for any of this. It's not because of you, it's because Shroud made you the problem."

Despite herself, she couldn't help but snort. Wil never struck her as gracious, and he certainly wasn't cordial. He was an ass, but aside from a few specific instances, it never felt truly intentional. It seemed less a conscious effort to berate and intimidate, and more of a general lack of social grace.

Leah was right; he didn't understand how to deal with people.

Or, she amended, he was one of those people where what he said and what he meant were two different things. Her brother and mother were much of the same, and once she'd let go of her reservations, she found it much easier to see past the initial acerbity. Wil, she realized, conveyed things best through action.

He had as much tact as a raging bull and he acted as if most things were too much of a hassle, but if he truly didn't care, he wouldn't bother.

Still, he made it all too easy to prod at him.

"So it's not my fault, but I'm the problem?" she asked, a brow raised. "And people say I'm too blunt."

"You get the point."

"No, I don't think I do."

Wil rolled his eyes. "Doesn't matter. You look less empty-headed."

"Are you even trying anymore?"

The slight upward pull at the corners of his lips and the half-cocked brow was answer enough. It was an awkward look, a poor attempt to mask his discomfort with sarcasm. He was trying, and fully aware that he wasn't doing as good a job as he hoped.

"It's actually my fault, if it's anyone's," he admitted a few moments later. "You'd still be in Pendel if I hadn't brought you here. Vina forgets that."

"I went along with it," she argued. "I could've stayed home, but I didn't."

"Oh, I'm sure me threatening to slit your throat had nothing to do with that decision."

He wasn’t completely wrong, but she couldn't deny her part in it all. She'd promised to cooperate when the time came, and, instead, she'd tried to worm her way out of it every chance she had. In hindsight, his methods aside, she should be thankful he pushed her into it.

She'd be dead if she'd chosen otherwise. Windmore intended to frame her for Sir Swiftbrook's death; if it hadn't happened then, it would've happened, eventually. Wil only expedited those plans and in doing so, he may have spared her the noose a second time.

After another moment of silence, Wil said, "Your position is nothing new. Shroud's been doing this for centuries. It seems like it's your fault because they're actively pursuing you, but if it wasn't you, it'd be someone else. This isn't the first time they've obliterated an entire settlement to silence one of our informants."

A dry chuckle escaped her lips. "That was slightly better, but I still think you should leave the consoling to Leah."

"Fine, wallow in self-pity," he said, with a dismissive wave. "Cry yourself to sleep, for all I care."

"Ah, there we go," she said, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. "That sounds more like you."

He threw her a sideways look, then shook his head. "Leah would tell you the same thing I'm about to, except with more grace, if she were here."

"And that is?"

"Get over it."

The laughter pealed from her lips before she could stop it. She shouldn't laugh — anyone else in her position would've slapped him for saying something so insensitive — but she couldn't help it. It was so unexpectedly blunt, yet exactly what she'd expect from him.

At least he didn't threaten to punch her if she didn't laugh, as Corden once had.

"I don’t know why you think that's funny," he said, "but I'm serious. What's done is done. Feeling sorry for yourself won't change that. Actually, it's only going to make things worse. Shroud preys on people's guilt."

Her laughter subsided, and she pursed her lips. "Are you implying they burnt the village down to convince me to surrender?"

"It's one of several possibilities. Osain suspected it was a trap. It was too convenient not to be, but the information at stake was too important to overlook on the off chance that it was legitimate."

"Osain... Before we left, Osain told me whatever happened would happen for a reason," she muttered.

Wil sighed. "Osain has an uncanny ability to know what's going to happen before it does. I don't know if it's his sources or something else, but he's never wrong."

"Then why send me?"

"Best guess? He figured that was the best option. It was probably either send you to them or let them come here. At least with Vina and Lisette, who don't — or didn't, in Lisette's case — trust you, you'd be under constant supervision. Here, there's too many secluded areas where someone could've cornered you and no one would notice until it was too late."

"And without a badge, no way to get to me if something were to happen," she said.

Wil stared at her for a moment. "Yeah, actually. That... was the main concern. How did you come to that conclusion?"

It was Everna's turn to shrug. "Lisette told me how the badges work. And considering what you just told me, there's no other way to ensure I'd be both under surveillance and in a position where someone could get to me within seconds if need be."

Still, that did not explain Osain's cryptic warning. If what Wil said was true, he had to have known they would've run into Shroud. Unless he was referring to the delay, which, now that she thought of it, may have saved their lives. Had they not spent the night in the cavern, they might have been in Windhollow when Shroud launched their assault.

Had he sent them when he did, knowing that would happen?

"Wait," Everna said. "That implies Shroud knows where the safe house is."

"Oh, they do," Wil said. "They have for years, but Osain deals with the slags. Aside from Leah and I, Osain's the only one here who poses a threat, and even Shroud would think twice about trying to cross blades with the three of us, let alone just Osain."

"He's that strong?"

Wil laughed. "Anyone who knows anything about Shadowguard knows picking a fight with Osain is a death sentence. That's why we kept you here. The agents in Windhollow probably tried to take advantage of his absence. It worked to their disadvantage. We know the name of who's likely the Taskmaster in charge of the operation."

Again, that sickly feeling in her gut returned. Osain had mentioned the threat she posed to Shroud was so great that even the lower ranks knew of it, though she still couldn't understand what made her so dangerous to them. What was it about her that sent a literal death cult into a frenzied panic? It had to be something significant to justify the chaos they wrought in their attempt to kill her. Or capture her.

She wasn't even sure what they wanted with her anymore.

Not unless she wasn't the target, but a convenient means to get to the real one. The agent's actions didn't match with what the others had said of Shroud's methods. If only those directly involved with the plan knew what their part entailed, why would the agent let the name slip?

"How certain are you that Windhollow was a trap?" she asked.

"About as certain as Osain," he said. "Why?"

"A trap for who?" she pressed. "For me? Or for Osain?"

Wil fell silent once more. Then he sighed. "I didn't come in here to talk about this. It's probably the last thing you want to discuss."

"Actually, it helps," she admitted. "Which I know makes no sense, but it's like doing a puzzle. And I think I just needed to get some of it off my chest. Until a couple of days ago, you and Leah were the only two who'd give me the time of day."

She wouldn't deny it'd be nice to talk about something else for once, but it was the easiest topic, and Everna had never been good at instigating a conversation simply for the sake of talking. What else would she talk about? The weather? Vina's terrible fashion sense?

"I feel like I'm doing something productive rather than crying into my pillow like a little bitch," she continued. "You're right. I need to get over it. Pull on the big girl panties and start trying to figure this out instead of letting everyone else do it for me."

Wil laughed. Genuinely laughed. It was a strange sound that tugged at something deep within her chest. She'd heard the odd snort and the occasional chuckle, but never anything close to real laughter.

"What?" she couldn't help but ask. What had she said that was so amusing?

"I can't tell if you're still in shock or just weird," he admitted. "Though, it is weird how well you're handling this entire situation. Most people would've lost their minds by now."

"Yes, well, I just cried into my pillow and gave myself a bigger headache, so I don't think that will help me at all. What else can I do?"

"Actually, I think it's time I took teaching you to fight a little more seriously, and I hear Cedric owes you a magic lesson for not letting his sister get eaten by a cavernbrute.”

Guilt

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