Poison Tree

specifically?”

“The leader of Onyx is a tiger,” Jason explained. “An old-school heavy hitter with ties to the Mistari high queen, if rumors are to be believed.”

Sarik went pale as a sheet.

According to Mistari law, each tribe was a distinct unit under the absolute control of their current king or queen, who answered only to the high ruler back in the main camps.

Thousands of years ago, the tribes had specialized in order to provide for the greater community; some were mostly hunters, some gatherers, some planters, some craftsmen, and so on. In the modern age, that translated into some tribes being splendid examples of democracy and art and spirituality, and some being brutal, ruled by a claw-and- st autocracy.

Sarik never spoke about her past, except in bits and pieces—usually when she woke from the nightmares left behind by being regularly beaten within an inch of her life whenever she transgressed.

“That could create problems while I’m trying to nd a home for the cubs,” she said, her voice sounding hollow. “I’m still waiting on responses from the tribes I have contacted.”

SingleEarth sometimes interacted with other Mistari, but very rarely with royalty, because Mistari royalty generally disapproved of individuals like Sarik who had chosen to leave their home tribes. If a Mistari king saw Sarik and deduced that she was a runaway, he was likely to report her to her father. Jason wasn’t going to let that happen. Ever.

Lynzi nodded her agreement, though she did add, “Sarik, you know that SingleEarth would never let anyone take you without your consent, right?”

Sarik nodded, but the look in her eyes was blank. After years of fear, and pain, and shame, it was hard to fully believe anyone’s promise of protection, especially when new violence seemed determined to intrude on the peaceful life they had struggled to build over the last six years.

CHAPTER 7

ALYSIA WAS IN motion before she knew what had wakened her. She made the rst several attacks blind, while still blinking the sands of sleep from her eyes. Her mind registered things like movement, the ash of eyes—and a weapon. By the time she recognized the intruder, she had him pinned to the ground with an arm across his windpipe.

She slapped Christian upside the head as she pushed herself to her feet. He was lucky she hadn’t been able to get a hand to the knife she had glimpsed at his waist.

No, not lucky. He knew her style well enough that he would have been careful to keep her from any weapons until they both knew she wasn’t trying to kill him.

“Jerk,” she said with a smile. “That door was locked for a reason.”

She o ered him a hand up, unsurprised by his sudden appearance in her bedroom. She had given him enough information to track her down if he chose, and had suspected he would follow through as soon as he got over being simultaneously surprised and pissed that she had surprised him.

As he rose, he said, “Was it really?” He took a moment to straighten out the leather jacket he wore and to check the security of items beneath. He might have left his crossbow at home, but Christian was never unarmed, not even in the heart of SingleEarth.

Alysia looked at the clock and then turned back to him with a halfhearted glare. “Five in the morning? Real y? ” She sat back down on the bed, nger-combing hair out of her face.

There wasn’t even a hint of light outside her windows.

“I didn’t want to stay up much later,” he replied, “and I wanted a chance to catch you alone.”

He reached into his jacket to retrieve a slender package; unrolling it, he revealed the three bolts Alysia had given him at Onyx. “Am I right that these are yours?”

She nodded tiredly. That had been the nal joy the day before—discovering that someone had broken into her room. She hadn’t unpacked anything but her laptop before the attack, so she didn’t know exactly when the bolts had been stolen, but the lax security at Haven #4 would have left plenty of predictable opportunities while she was being shown around the campus.

She fished a key out from between the mattresses and tossed it to Christian.

Christian knelt down to open the innocent-looking trunk, where two framed photos lay nestled among sweaters—one of Alysia’s mother in Paris, and one of her father with his girlfriend in Key West. The photos sitting side by side seemed to give the illusion that the individuals within would ever choose to be in the same room together.

Without needing to be told, Christian pushed the sweaters aside to reveal a false bottom, under which were Alysia’s real treasures: an Onyx crossbow, with its arms collapsed for storage; three slender metal stakes, each with its own adaptations to make it better suited for ghting; and a set of daggers. Each weapon represented a hard-earned rank in one of the Bruja guilds.

“You’ve kept them in remarkably good condition for someone living at SingleEarth, but you’re likely to lose them if you keep putting them into other members,” Christian remarked.

“I didn’t—” Alysia drew a deep breath, biting back her defensive retort as someone knocked on the door.

What now? She was halfway across the room before she thought to glance back to con rm that Christian was swiftly concealing the weapons again. “I’m coming,” she called out.

She opened the door prepared for the worst and found Lynzi there, wearing pajamas and an assortment of jewelry that seemed at odds with her appearing otherwise recently awakened.

Her gaze went instantly to Christian as she asked, “Is everything okay here?”

“Yeah,” Alysia answered, struggling to both wrap her brain around why Lynzi was there and come up with a good excuse for Christian’s presence.

“Morning. I’m Lynzi,” she said, offering her hand.

Christian glanced at Alysia as he shook Lynzi’s hand and said, “Nice to meet you. Alysia, are all your friends such early birds?”

It was a struggle for Alysia to keep her face straight as she realized that she could at least cross Christian de nitively o the list of possible shooters. As she had told the others, any

Onyx member planning that hit would have done research first.

Christian had obviously forgotten to do his research.

“I sleep lightly,” Lynzi explained with a gentle smile. Her tone was still utterly modest and sweet as she added, “I also sleep across the hall, and your veiling is terrible.”

Christian pulled back his hand abruptly, his eyes focusing on Lynzi for the first time as he realized she was more than the kid she seemed.

“Your veiling is very good, I gather,” he replied.

Veiling was a technique used by witches to make their aura look like something else—

usually human. Mortal witches could veil to an extent, but Tristes were the best at it.

“You’re Alysia’s friend who was training with Pandora?” Lynzi asked.

Seeing Christian’s normally impeccable cool broken was fun—and useful, since it was solid evidence that he wasn’t responsible for the recent carnage—but it still left Alysia watching the conversation fatalistically.

SingleEarth was all about forgiveness and new beginnings. Lynzi didn’t need to believe

Alysia had always been innocent—just that Alysia’s life in Bruja was over. And she would believe it, unless Christian said something to contradict Alysia.

I know you’re angry with me, Christian, she thought desperately, trying not to dget, but please don’t screw this up.

As if he had heard her thought, Christian glanced at Alysia again, this time to check what to say. When she nodded slightly to con rm that she had in fact told Lynzi about a Triste friend, he said, “She knew Pandora had o ered to train me. I hadn’t made the decision before the last time we spoke.”

“So it’s been a while,” Lynzi surmised. “I gather you’re the friend she ran into at Onyx?”