The rising sun tries to use the snow to blind me as I trudge toward the barn to feed the robed man. Approximately a third of the way there, Idyne comes run-stumbling through the snow behind me.

"Sean! Sean!"

I spin. "Are you trying to get us caught?" I hiss. "Lower your voice."

She catches up, breathing hard, and puts a hand on her hip. "Sorry. I just figured you didn't want to walk all the way there just to see he'd already been fed."

"Oh." I turn, annoyed, and start back to the farmhouse. Idyne follows me. I guess the cloth-wrapped bundle in my hand is Veradeaux's breakfast now.

I don't like the idea of Aster carting along the two dangerous prisoners on our trek. There are too many things that could go wrong. But I also don't want them able to roam freely—frustratingly, them coming is better than nothing.

Eyes closed, I shoulder open the farmhouse door. More and more, I can't stand to touch the wood of this place. It feels like a disease—malevolent and impartial. Shuddering as I pass the threshold, I make my way to the last room and, unlocking it, step inside. Veradeaux sits in the floor, twine binding her wrists in front of her and pinching her fingers together. I set the open cloth down within her reach.

"You expect me to eat with my hands tied this way?" Her voice is pitiful and pleading, like the girls who couldn't get a passing grade and used to beg for my homework.

I snort. "Have fun." I turn away. "I'm not untying you." I didn't give them my homework either.

"You can't be leaving already?" A hint of desperation tinges her voice. "We could talk. I—" She straightens, as though trying to pretend she's in a real chair instead of on the bare floor. "I have some information you might find interesting."

My conscience twinges at just leaving her here. I remember being alone in this—that house. But this isn't that house, and she is not a seven-year-old boy. "That's nice." I reach for the door.

"Aster's not who he says he is!"

I laugh, glancing back at her. "How would you know who he's told us he is?"

"I don't. But I know him well enough to know he didn't tell you the truth." There's a calculating gleam in her eyes, the confident look of a gambler.

I cross my arms, considering. She could easily lie to me here. In fact, she probably will. But I see no harm in letting her speak. "Then what's the truth?" I prompt.

"He's not just any caster."

I shift. "What is he?"

A smile slips onto her lips. "A runaway. From what, where, and why, I'll tell you when you unbind me."

"Is he dangerous?"

"His lies could be."

"Why?"

"Because he's using you." She leans forward. "I'd imagine he has been since the moment you met him."

The words ring in my head like city fire bells after you've already smelled the smoke. "How so?"

She glances around the room. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Unease courses through my veins, pumped by my accelerating heart.

"You want to find out the truth about him? Untie me."

I hesitate, all my old worries flashing through my mind. What has she really done against us—not against Aster, but against us? Who is Aster? We have nothing to go off of other than his own word, and that's the only thing that 'proves' he's not guilty of anything. Yes, Veradeaux attacked us night before last, but we were there to kidnap her. We stole her prisoner, who we, really, know nothing about, are holding captive her associate, and snuck into her home in the dead of night to abduct her.

Who really are the villains here?

My focus returns to her. She sits there, watching me.

I don't know anything about her, either, though. And Aster was delirious from hunger when we found him. Starving your prisoners to death isn't exactly the habit of a quality leader.

And the robed man did try to kill Leavi.

I shake my head at Veradeaux. "Look, we both know you can still eat like that. Thanks for what you told me. I'll see you later." I leave, locking the door behind me.

I know I don't trust Veradeaux. I can't afford to take that chance. But I'm not so sure I trust Aster either.

I find Leavi upstairs on guard shift. "We leaving today?"

Confusion flits across her face. "No."

"Why?" The house is staring at us, laughing that we'll be trapped here forever.

"Aster thinks the roads are still too hard to travel. We're going to wait a few days and see if the snow clears up any. The storm season can't last too much longer."

I pause. Aster decided. So, of course, she didn't feel the need to talk to me. "Well, Leavi." I shove my hands into my pockets. "You sure we shouldn't just go anyway? The roads could get worse instead of better."

"It's not like we're been staying here without reason. Like Jacin said the other night, I don't want to end up dead in a snowdrift, and with Veradeaux out of the way, there shouldn't be too much danger. The guards won't look for us here."

"According to Jacin."

"Sean, why do you assume everything Jacin says is suspect? He's just as much a part of this now as we are. We're better off waiting here than braving the weather. It's hard enough making it to the barn." She turns back to the window, peering out. "And besides, it'll be harder to cart Veradeaux and the Man from the East in the mounds of snow."

My fingers tap. The conversation with Veradeaux still curls apprehension through my body. "I'm not convinced we should be traveling with them at all."

"We can't just leave them here."

I glance away. I know what I want to say, but I also know that she doesn't want to hear it. I look back at her. "There's another way we avoid traveling with them."

She narrows her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"We don't go with Aster."

"Sean." She shakes her head. "I thought we already went over this."

"Leavi, that was when he couldn't fend for himself. He's fine now."

"Where is all this coming from?"

My hands come out of my pockets. Stalling, I flick open a timepiece, but don't bother interpreting the numbers on its face. I close it and look back up. "Leavi, how much do we really know about this guy?"

Her arms cross. "What do you mean?"

"I mean all we have to go off of is his word about what's happened. What if he's lied? What if he's just been pulling our strings this entire time?"

"Why would he lie to us, Sean?"

"If he had something to hide." My tone implies it's obvious.

"Yes," she says sharply, "but what would he want to hide? He's got nothing to lie to us about; we hardly even know him."

"Exactly! We don't know him. He could be anyone. He's not confined to telling us the truth about who he is."

"He's saved my life, Sean. I don't think he's looking for our imminent demise."

I ignore her sarcasm. "Maybe not, but it also certainly benefited him to keep you alive—we turned around and abducted the woman that was after him!" I raise a hand to cut off her protest. "My point is just this, Leavi: we don't know him, so we have no reason to trust him. I do not think he is who he says he is."

"What reason has he given you to doubt him?"

I look away. "Think of it like this—we broke a prisoner out of jail, are holding against his will the man that came to reclaim the prisoner, and abducted the woman who wanted him."

"Because they wanted to kill us?" she says pointedly.

"And where did we get that information?" I throw my hands wide. "Aster."

"Aster didn't have to tell me the Man from the East wanted to kill me. I figured that much out myself when he tried to get me to jump off the roof!"

"I'm not saying that we necessarily did the wrong thing. I'm just saying that there's two sides to every stone-mark, and we don't know what angle Aster's working."

"You realize he almost killed himself trying to heal Bukki? Tell me what angle that is."

"I don't know! Leavi—"

I'm done. The thought pops into my head, and I realize it's true. I'm done trying to carefully explain myself, trying to make her listen to me when she doesn't listen to anyone but herself. "Leavi, I'm just trying to point out that we have no reason to trust everything he says is true. Now"—I hold up a hand again—"I know that you don't like heeding other people's warnings, but I'm trying to bring up a legitimate point that could impact everything from here on. I don't think we should stay here, and I don't think we should travel with him and his prisoners." My sharp gaze pins her.

Her eyes shine. "Well, if you're so sure, why don't you just leave without me?"

"Skies, Leavi, I'm trying to help! I don't understand why you so readily trust this stranger's word over a friendly warning from someone... someone you know!" Idyne pokes her head upstairs, raises her brows, then slowly withdraws. I lower my voice. "Leavi..." My frustrated words trail off. I'm never going to convince her because she's never going to listen to me. "You know, whatever." I shake my head. "I'm done. I'm done trying to help you see sense when you clearly don't want to listen. I'm done trying to be here when you fall."

I shoulder past her, ready to grab my bags.

"What? Sean, wait." She catches my arm. "What are you talking about?"

Drained, I turn to her. "What do you mean?"

"You—you really are just going to leave?"

The pain in her voice runs needles through my skin, but I gently push her arm off mine. "Maybe I'll see you again someday."

She stares at me, features frozen.

I release a deep breath and start down the stairs.