Brynn woke with a start to a heavy thud. Sputtering, she sat bolt upright and reached for a dagger she didn’t have. William sat up behind her, his hands gripping her sides. They had fallen asleep tucked together against an enormous pine tree.
“Good morning,” William said, his tone cold. He wasn’t talking to her, Brynn realized. Instead, he stared across the fire to where Garan was sitting.
Garan tossed another log onto the low flames, keeping his murderous eyes trained on them. Then, he pulled out his dagger.
“Easy,” William warned with a deep rumble in his chest.
Garan slipped the sharp tip of the blade beneath his thumbnail, scraping it clean of dirt.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said with false politeness. “I just thought we could use some extra light while we pack up – maybe get an early start.”
“That’s not your dagger,” Brynn blurted, seeing the strange, carved hilt. She couldn’t make out the shapes, but she knew it wasn’t Garan’s usual blade.