"I hear you."

Ryadni's voice was hollow, empty. From far away, the incessant whisperings assaulted her in all directions. Ryadni tried to speak but her words died on her lips.

"I can feel you. Please, just give me time."

In the vague distance, people moved on with their daily routines. Ryadni groaned to herself, clutching a pounding head that threatened to explode.

"You're too far away. I can't do it."

A sob escaped her mouth.

"I can't... I can't... please."

Silence fell. The whisperings returned with greater urgency. Ryadni stilled. When she next spoke, her voice had taken on a steely tone.

"My life is yours to command."

****

So hungry... so hungry...

"What is up with you, Ryadni?"

Ryadni jumped and her kit fell to the ground with a clatter. Hooks and knives spun into the dark corners of the storage area. She groaned, scrabbling after them and shoving them back into her satchel. One of the Raiders gazed down at her, puzzled, and handed her the rope she'd forgotten to pack.

"You've been so off lately. You barely pay attention to the trainees and you don't even go to the meetings any more. Pallas hasn't said anything yet, but those are compulsory. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she muttered, swinging the bag over her head and hooking a stray curl behind her ear. The Raider's probing questions and false worry irritated her.

"Are you sure? We're going back to Hesprus's and you need to be in top form—"

"I said I'm fine!"

The Raider stopped, a hurt look on her face. Ryadni turned away and marched up the stairs, her heart thrumming against her rib cage. Her back prickled. She clenched and released her fists over and over. The Raider called after her, probably with more complaints, but her words were inaudible below Ryadni's heavy breathing.

Everyone was worried. Everyone asked after her. None of them truly cared. They only wanted her to be at her best to continue their survival. She was the same as them. At the end of the day, if a powerful warlord offered wealth and resources in return for her life, even Pallas would betray her. They needed her as manpower. Ryadni needed them to survive long enough to bring back Khaus.

The chilly air warmed as the days stretched into summer. It was strange; her mind had been so numb for the past day that time had slipped by without notice.

Had she seen Casten yet? She couldn't remember. A persistent, pulsatile headache drummed at her temples, breaking her chain of thought. The plan was to raid Nubina and they were to take a route that brought them cold to Bheim, where Hesprus's Draconian Family ruled. Daelus, the head of the family, ruled the area with an iron fist. Daelus, the man who murdered her mother. Her mouth dried when the memories of that devastating day inched into her mind.

Without warning, a shadow leapt out at her and clamped on her wrists.

"What the hell?!" she yelled, her hand flying back to reach for her dagger – which was locked away in the armoury downstairs. She tore her wrist out of her attacker's grip. Dim torchlight fell on a tear-stained face. Ryadni straightened up, dropping her arms. "Sumair. What do you want now?"

Sumair's straggly hair was matted and wilder than ever and her pallid skin highlighted her gaunt features. She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of dirt on her sunken cheeks. Jocas was nowhere to be seen.

"Why aren't you in your room?" Ryadni made an effort to keep her tone calm.

"Urseus..." Sumair said with a hiccup. Her clothes looked as if they hadn't been changed in days. "My little boy needs me."

"Again?" Ryadni tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice. There was a fresh scrape above Sumair's right eye. "Did you go out by yourself? You know that's not allowed."

"My poor Urseus..." Sumair ignored her entirely, reaching out for her absent son. Her wrists were so thin Ryadni could probably snap them like twigs.

"Go back to Jocas, Sumair." Ryadni turned to leave, but Sumair's hands gripped her elbows in a surprising iron hold. Ryadni tugged; Sumair held on. "What?"

"Please... get my boy back. I beg of you..."

"We're not going that way, Sumair. Pallas is going to send a team later. Talk to them, not me."

"But you could have gotten him back. You should have... why didn't—"

"I couldn't!" Ryadni snapped. She ripped her arms out of her grip and backed away, scowling. Her back prickled again. The headache at her temples drummed louder than before. "We got Casten. We got who we could. We left. That's it, period. Now shut the hell up and go back to the infirmary, before I make you!"

Sumair let out a wounded cry. "He needs me so badly. Why are you so useless, Ryadni? All you and the other Raiders do is pride yourself as better than us... yet when we need you, you're all failures... so stupid..."

Ryadni bit back a reply and turned to go. Her head threatened to explode.

"I should have expected as much. You're too weak to even fight off the voice of an Essence."

She froze. Her heart skipped a beat. When she turned back around, Sumair gazed at her empty hands, tears trickling down her cheeks.

"How did you know that?" Ryadni whispered.

"Just useless... useless..."

Ryadni took a step towards the woman again; Sumair was shaking her head and muttering to herself, no longer comprehensible.

"Sumair. Tell me." Ryadni's temper flared. She grabbed the woman's shoulders and shook her. "Who told you that? Where did you hear this?"

"Oh, Pallas said," Sumair said vaguely, a crazed gleam in her eyes. "You're so weak, Ryadni. You try to come across as all tough, but you're just another stupid little girl, addicted to the Essence—"

Come to me.

"—afraid of the truth—"

Feed me.

"—you'll get your come-uppance—"

Seek me.

"—it'll lead you to your doom—"

Cherish me.

"—no different to the weaklings out there—"

Take it! Take it!

Ryadni slapped her, hard, across the face. Sumair crashed onto her knees, disoriented. Her last words reverberated in Ryadni's brain, accusing and taunting, round and round. Ryadni's head spun alongside the echoes. She staggered, raising a shaking hand to her temple.

"Once the dragons come, you'll die just like the rest of us. Just like my husband. Just like the Duke of Frone. Everyone, oh so pathetic, haha..."

"If Urseus is so precious to you, go find him yourself!"

Sumair rambled on, oblivious to Ryadni's presence.

"If he's not dead already!" Ryadni said under her breath, her heart thumping.

They knew? Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. The blood pounded on her ears and her armpits were damp as was the front of her tunic. That Raider told them? Everyone knew?

She should have guessed as much. That female Raider must have told him after the meeting. And now everyone knew. Did they know her true identity? Was her safe haven gone? She had nowhere to go. If they knew her as Aeris, the last descendent of Khaus's bloodline, she was as good as dead. There was everything to gain for these people to be in Daelus's favour and nothing to lose.

Would even Jace stand by her side? He said it himself: he loved it here. He was a man of simple wants: a warm bed and a somewhat filled stomach. He had acquaintances and friends in The Resistance. He had filled out, glowed, even, during the past ten years. Ryadni had remained withdrawn and dark, making no efforts to be on friendly terms with anybody and pushing all the children away. The other youngsters resented her coldness and the adults were wary of her. Casten had been her only friendly face and even he was ignorant of her past.

Not for longer. Once her secret is known, her value as a bargaining chip far exceeded any love anyone there had for her.

She gritted her teeth. The question was... how long did she have left?

Ryadni kept to herself after they set off to Nubina. Accompanied by four nameless fighters at Pallas's insistence, two lookouts, and the annoying female Raider from the Rubanast rescue, they made their journey by the cover of the night and hid in caves and old safehouses during the day. On the second day, the town of Bheim came into sight. Sprawling atop the hill surveying imperiously at the townspeople below was a mighty stone castle with sleek, slate roof tiles and boasting royal blue banners with gilded edges.

Although Ryadni had never been, just knowing she was so close to the home of Astrayas's Draconian Family and her mother's murderer, Daelus, made her heart skip a beat. One day, she would storm this place and exact her revenge. Her mind lingered on the Essence. The voice ebbed and flowed, sometimes giving her strength, other times speaking aloud the violent thoughts passing through her head.

When I get to them, I shall rip them limb from limb.

The words left as smoothly as they'd come. She paid little attention to the hand signals between her teammates, falling into place like a duckling behind its mother. All she could think of was the Essence.

It yearned for her. It called for her. Its whispers, alluring and melodic, tangled with her own thoughts. It was all she could do to not be swept away by the incessant demands and succumb—

"What are you doing here?"

Ryadni jumped, punted back into reality with disorientating velocity. Out of instinct, her hand flew to her back to grip her dagger. She melted into formation with her teammates. Without her noticing, the dry woods they were in had turned into soft marshland, the air thick with the scent of wet mud and undergrowth.

One of the fighters emerged from the bushes accompanied by frantic rustling of the bushes and squelching of mud. His right hand clamped around a spindly, flailing arm. Leaves clung to a wild bird's-nest hair. Fresh mud streaked across a gaunt, frantic face, so thin that Ryadni at first thought she was an escaped prisoner from Daelus's castle.

But she recognised those huge, half-mad eyes that jumped from face to face. Sumair let out a shrieking laugh that rang through their surroundings.

"What is she doing here?" said the female Raider with hushed incredulity.

"That doesn't matter now," said the fighter holding her. "We're too close to Bheim. We need to get back, now. We can't risk running into Hesprus or his bloodline."

"It's a bit late for that!"

The undergrowth came alive. Something barrelled into the fighter, sending him flying into a tree with a grunt. Ryadni whipped out her knife and crouched behind one of the fighters. The attackers moved in, their faces masked and holding swords and clubs.

"Get behind the fighters, Sumair!" hissed the Raider. Sumair ignored her. A wide, crazed grin spread across her face.

"Where's that little witch you talked about?" said the brute. His arrogant tone sounded like he kicked puppies for a hobby.

You must be joking, thought Ryadni, staring from the crazy woman to the meat-tank. The man had a face that looked less intelligent than the corncob she'd eaten that morning. He was wide and muscle-bound and the only one unmasked. Starvation was certainly the least of his worries. He couldn't be from one of the small villages around here.

To Ryadni's astonishment, Sumair pointed a trembling finger at her with glee.

"That's her! She's the one you want!"