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weeks ago or now?”
She knew there was nothing kind, nothing
warm on her face. A witch’s face. A
Blackbeak’s face. “Morath is suicide. Erawan
will find you in any form you wear, and you
will wind up with a collar around your throat.”
“I don’t have another choice.”
“We agreed,” Manon said, pacing a step.
“We agreed that looking for the keys was no
longer a priority—”
“I knew better than to argue with you about
it.” His eyes glowed like blue fire. “My path
doesn’t impact your own. Rally the Crochans,
fly north to Terrasen. My road leads to
Morath. It always has.”
“How can you have looked at Kaltain and
not seen what awaits you?” She held up her
arm and pointed to where Kaltain’s scar had
been. “Erawan will catch you. You cannot
go.”