A heavy silence fills the stable. Even the horses refrain from making a sound as they watch from their stalls. My hands are shaking. I stare at her in disbelief. “Why would they be after you?” I ask, unable to hide the alarm in my voice. “I thought Noble-lords and Sikari were allies.”

“They were, at first,” she says. “But some Sikari did not like the way the Noble-lords were handling the partnership. Noble-lords coveted the Sikari's abilities. They wanted all of the control. The Sikari resisted and, as a result, they were hunted down. It wasn't only the Soulless who killed them. Noble-lords, afraid of the revolt that might occur, started killing them as well. Those that remained were either enslaved or hid themselves and their abilities. My own started to manifest when I was six. My mother did her best to keep it a secret, but some secrets can't be kept forever. Mine was sold for a price. My village was attacked, just like I told you, but I didn't escape. I was taken by Noble-lords.”

Outrage heats my insides, but I keep it in. Syndel continues.

“For the last twelve years, I've been nothing more than a slave, forced to seek out Soulless and even act as bait. I'm fully aware of how bright my aura is. It comes with being a Sikari. I tried to escape my captors more times than I can count. I finally managed it and came north, knowing not many Soulless have come this way yet. But it was only a matter of time before the Noble-lords did.”

“So when you told me that you couldn't remember why you were in the forest where I found you . . .”

“I'm sorry I lied,” she says. “Keeping secrets is something I've had to perfect, and the memory isn't a pleasant one. My captors heard about a Soulless near the eastern coast who was terrorizing the surrounding villages. They claimed he was killing their animals and destroying their crops. I'd heard this type of rumor in other places as well.

“I found his exact location and positioned myself to lure him out. He came, and he wasn't alone. I didn't realize this until it was too late. I'm not sure why, but the horde of Soulless never seemed to notice me as they attacked. As far as I know, all the Noble-lords were slaughtered. I took the chance and ran.”

Another mention of Soulless and the scourge, but this is not what captures my attention. A group of Soulless working together? I've never heard such a thing. “How many were there?” I ask.

She raises an eyebrow at the question. “At least a dozen. They did very well to keep their intentions hidden from me, at least until the last second.”

I start to pace, shaking my head. “A dozen. It makes no sense. Soulless rarely band together, especially in groups of more than three or four. Their greed for souls does not make them willing to share. And what made them ignore your aura?”

There are too many questions for me to get a grasp on. I run my fingers through my hair, needing to deal with the most immediate dilemma. Syndel can't stay here, but can I allow her to come with me? I suddenly face her, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation. “Being with me won't guarantee your safety, Syndel. I'm not as benevolent as you think. Never forget I'm one of those monsters, with the same hunger to take your soul.”

She holds my gaze with hers, considering me carefully. “I understand,” she says, “but I'd rather take my chances with you than become the Noble-lords' slave again.”

I scowl for a moment, caught between uncertainty and relief that I won't be parted from her after all. “If you're certain, we must go now.”

***

Despite Syndel's objections, I break into the general store, gather food and supplies in a sack, and leave a handful of coins on the counter. I attach the sack to Hetty's saddle. “We'll head to the forest first. We can rest and move on from there.”

“Do you have an idea where we should go?” she asks.

“The mountains,” I say. “If necessary, farther north.”

We leave Nikom behind and head for the eastern forest. I'm surprised by how much I've missed the trees. The scent of sap, the sway of the branches. Though I call no place home, here is where I feel most welcome. We stop in a small clearing. In a flurry of motion, I construct a simple shelter out of branches and large leaves. “I hope you'll be warm enough,” I say. “I dare not make a fire until we're beyond the forest. Rest as much as you can.”

Syndel nods, her eyelids heavy as she pulls a blanket from the sack. She crawls into the opening, disappearing from sight. I place myself between the shelter and the rest of the world, my senses picking out every sound and movement. Hetty stands nearby, her tail flicking back and forth in a rhythm that matches her deep breaths. After a time, I start to relax.

It begins again. I see her in the distance, her aura like fire. It draws me in; resistance is impossible. I'm at her side in an instant, pulling her into a fatal embrace, my hand poised. I stare into her eyes, those beautiful windows to her soul. I hear her voice saying my name, pleading. I want to stop. I mustn't harm her.

The monster laughs and moves to take what it wants.

“NO!” I scream into the night as I jerk awake from the nightmare, the muscles in my body contorting with horror.

Syndel is beside me, her face white. One of my hands is clutching her wrist, my fingernails digging into her skin. There is blood.

Horrified, I release her and dart to the cover of the bushes on the other side of the clearing.

“Cress,” she says, getting to her feet.

“Don't come near me!” I hiss, wiping her blood from my fingers. She slowly advances despite my warning. “Syndel,” I growl.

“Hush,” she says, pausing just beyond my reach. “It was my own fault. I shouldn't have startled you.”

I laugh, the sound hollow. “Don't you dare blame yourself. I'm the one who must be careful.” My voice catches. “I could have killed you. Or worse.”

She drops to her knees. “Why didn't you?”

She asks as if the answer is easy. The hunger is rooted so deeply. Keeping it buried forever is next to impossible. “The monster is too strong,” I say, looking away. “There may come a time when I lose control and not even your pleading will reach me.”

She regards me silently for a moment, perhaps trying to read me. “Then do it now,” she says softly. “I give my permission.”

Shock and anger fill every inch of my body. Before I can think, I'm on my feet and out of the shadows. I stand above her, teeth bared in a snarl. She stands to face me. My eyes begin to burn; hers are wide with a trace of fear. She should be afraid. My anger changes to greed and desire, surging through my veins with the same force that drew me to her the first time. The monster rumbles with satisfaction. Seizing her, I bend her backward, positioning my hand above her face. Just like my dream. The monster cackles with glee, urging me to do it. Yet, we are frozen. My hand doesn't move.

I can't do it.

I won't.

I fight back, substituting the monster's forceful greed with something else.

I see her face, its softness and beauty. I feel her kindness. I cannot defeat the monster, but she can. Letting out a strangled gasp, I shove her away, doubling over in pain as the monster howls in protest. Syndel says my name, though keeps her distance, waiting for me to regain control. It seems to take hours. Finally, the pain subsides and I'm able to stand upright again. Breathing deeply, I look at her. “Why?” I whisper hoarsely, watching tears slide down her cheeks. “Why are you doing this?”

She wipes at her eyes. “Because I believe in you. The monster, as you call it, might be a part of you forever, but so will your heart. It is stronger. I can see it.”

Does she realize what she's saying? The strength of my heart comes from her. I think I've known for a while, perhaps from the moment I looked beyond her aura. And it's something I don't deserve. “This is a dangerous game you're playing,” I mutter in exasperation, mixed with a bit of awe.

“I know,” she says with an apologetic smile. “But I've never been one to give up easily. It's how I've been able to survive.”

With morning on its way, I disassemble the shelter to throw off anyone who might come here looking for signs, while Syndel stoops at the edge of a trickling stream to clean the wounds on her wrist. I flinch at the sight of them.

“I'm fine,” she says, noticing that I'm watching her. “This will be a reminder to let a sleeping Soulless lie.”

I know she means to lighten the mood, but her words make me think. I'm not supposed to dream, yet it has happened twice now, all since Syndel has come into my life. What if her presence, and my refusal to harm her, has triggered the dreams? It could be the monster's way of trying to force my hand. Does this mean no matter what I do, the monster will find a way? I keep this troubling thought to myself.

With Henrietta between us, we begin our journey just as spears of sunlight make their way through the overhead canopy. The forest begins to awaken. I hear the songs of birds and the hungry screeches of their young. Wild dogs, which are harmless to people, yip at each other as they start their hunts. To my surprise, the sounds don't stop as we draw nearer. Either the animals do not sense me or they're no longer afraid. I have no idea why either would happen.

I glance at Syndel over Hetty's shoulder. She wears a look of concentration. “You're doing it, aren't you?” I ask.

“What?” she says, startled by my question.

“You're doing something to the animals so they won't be afraid.”

She opens her mouth to protest but smiles sheepishly instead. “I sensed their wariness. My ability as a Sikari is not just to read emotions, but also to influence them. I simply told the animals you're a friend.”

I'm not sure if I'm upset or pleased. Being feared is not something I enjoy, yet telling them I'm a friend is not an exact truth. “They can ignore their instinct just because you tell them too?”

“Most of the time. Watch.” She turns her gaze to the trees just ahead. Seconds later, the bushes rustle and out step a doe and her fawn. They watch us as we approach. The doe's eyes are wide with a jumbled sort of apprehension; the fawn seems merely curious. I wait for them to realize the truth and bolt from sight. They remain still.

“Go on,” Syndel says, stopping on the path. Hetty stops with her.

Swallowing hard, I obey, moving closer to the two animals. The doe fidgets nervously, knowing something isn't quite right. I come to a halt just a few feet from them and slowly raise my hand. The fawn takes a step toward me, but the doe suddenly moves ahead, blocking me from her young. She nudges the fawn back toward the bushes. I let my hand drop to my side, knowing I shouldn't have expected anything more. I glance back at Syndel.

“Some instincts are harder to break,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders. “Like yours, for example. You're not making it easy for them. Can't you try being less negative?”

My eyebrows rise as I consider the question. “Honestly? I don't know. Negativity has been a companion of mine for some time now.”

She frowns at me. “Not anymore. I'm going to take its place.”

I stiffen, my expression becoming like stone. I can't let her read me anymore. Turning on my heel, I continue along the path. “If we want to reach the mountains by nightfall we mustn't linger.”

Syndel and Henrietta remain a few steps behind me.

“Don't worry, Hetty,” I hear her say, using the pet name I'd given the mare. “I don't give up easily.”

I sigh. I don't want her to give up, but maybe it would be better if she did.