“Little Healer.” Simus’s voice rumbled in my ear. He pulled back, and put his hands on my shoulders. “You gave me back my life in Xy, when you healed my leg.” His tired eyes sparkled and he gave me a gentle, knowing smile. “Let me give you back yours, eh?”

With that, he gently turned me around to face the entrance.

Keir stood there, out of breath, his mouth open, staring at me as if he’d seen a ghost.

Chapter 17

It couldn’t be.

Simus’s hands were warm on my shoulders as I stood there, gazing at my beloved.

It wasn’t him of course. It couldn’t be. I pressed back against Simus. “Simus,” I whispered in despair, trying to make him understand. “Keir rides with the dead.”

“Look again, Little Healer.” Simus’s voice was soft, and seemed to tremble in my ear, whether from sorrow or laughter, I couldn’t say. “He lives, Lara.”

“Lara?” Keir took a step forward, his eyes wide and desperate. “Lara?” His voice was a hush, as if he couldn’t believe. There was color in those blue eyes, blood on his...

I cried out then, and ran to him. His arms opened, taking me up and into their warmth, wrapping tight around me. He was warm and real and breathing ...

Goddess and all the stars above, Keir was alive!

My arms wrapped around his neck as I covered his face in kisses. Keir’s strength seemed to drain out of him, and he sank to his knees. My own body went boneless and I melted down with him. His cloak wrapped around us, cutting us off from the eyes of the Elders. We were sheltered in each other.

“I saw,” I sobbed even as I stroked his face. His warm, living skin moved under my fingers. “I saw you . . .”

“Keekai. You saw Keekai, fire of my heart.” Keir’s voice was a rasp. “Keekai fell in combat, not I.”

I clutched at him then, weeping. “It must have been her who rode with me into the herds.”

Keir’s face was stark, his eyes filled with pain.

“You’re alive,” I breathed, amazed. I moved my hands to his waist and then let them curve up around his back. The cold links of his mail couldn’t disguise the feel of his hard body. I started sobbing, taking in great gulps of air.

Keir murmured in my ear, and rubbed his hands over my back. “I’m here, Lara.”

It was almost too much to believe. Keir, alive, healthy, back in my arms, his breath tickling my ear. All our dreams, all of our future, all given back to me in an instant. I didn’t dare believe.

And yet there was that spicy scent to his skin. I started to laugh, even as my tears fell. “Oh, beloved.”

Keir wiped at my cheeks with his thumb, and then kissed me. The salt of my tears, the warm taste of his mouth, it was true, it was true . . .

Keir lived. And so did I.

I came to my senses, becoming aware of the people around us. I choked back my sobs, trying to get my emotions under control. I looked out from the shelter of Keir’s arms, even as he looked up.

Prest stood before us, as did Rafe, looking out and away. Ander and Yveni had our backs, facing toward the entrance. Each was battered and bloody, yet each had a weapon at the ready, and from their stance it was clear that no one was getting close to us. Prest was wielding a sword. Where was the warclub? But I had other worries.

Simus stood further in front of Prest and Rafe. He had his back to us, his arms crossed over his chest. The Eldest and Elders were focused on Keir and me, the entire tent silent.

I tucked my head back into the shelter of Keir’s arms, but not before I saw Joden standing off to the side, his face stricken with pain.

“Keir,” I asked softly, not wanting to be heard. “Who lives?”

Keir’s head was down. He moved just enough so that his breath warmed my ear. “Those you see. And—”

Warriors entered the tent, apparently with a prisoner. Our guards tensed, and Simus pulled a sword as well. I lifted my head just enough to see a prisoner dragged within, around the outside of the fire pits, and then dumped at Essa’s feet. The man’s hands were bound behind him, and one of his guards grabbed his hair, and pulled his head up.

It was Iften.

He looked the worse for wear, stripped down to trous, and barefoot. He’d lost those bracers, and even at this distance, I could see that his arm was crooked, the fingers curled.

Another commotion. Everyone around me was already on guard, but this time it was Reness, striding past the fire pits. “She lives?” Reness asked of Essa. “You found her?”

“She found us.” Essa gestured toward Keir and me.

Reness turned, her face lit up with a smile. “Warprize. Thank the skies you survived.”

Iften jerked his head free, and turned to look over his shoulder at me. His face was full of hate, his lips in a snarl. I shifted a bit, fear washing through me.

Keir growled deep in his throat.

“Join us, Eldest Thea.” Essa gestured to a stool set next to him. “This senel was called to determine the fate of this warrior.”

Reness’s lip curled. “What true warrior surrenders?”

Iften’s head jerked back around. “I would speak!”

“Pah.” Essa stood, unsteady on his feet, his face white. Either he was angered beyond belief, or in pain, or both. I narrowed my eyes, and studied him and Wild Winds carefully. “You’d speak now,” Essa continued, “when you and the others failed to force your truths upon us.”

“She is a threat to us all, a danger to our people,” Iftan spat. “We had to try to make you—”

“Make us? Force us?” Wild Winds spoke from his stool. “Your truth had been heard and considered. All arguments had been made. But Antas would have used his blade rather than let this Council make its deci sion.”

“I do not know how Antas convinced so many to betray this Council and the Plains,” Essa spoke. “But all who lifted a blade in the Council senel died for it, or have fled the Heart.”

“Except the coward that dropped his sword,” Simus added.

All three of the Eldest glared at him. Wild Winds spoke first. “You have no rank to—”

Simus laughed. “You have no Eldest Warrior to sit on the tier. A warrior’s voice should be heard, yes?” He spread his arms wide. “My truth is yours, Eldest of the Elders.”

Keir snorted softly, but didn’t say anything. I shifted so that I could see his face, thinking that he was looking at the tiers. But Keir was focused on Iften, and Iften alone.

Who chose that moment to cry out, “You will see.” He came up on his knees, wincing as the bonds pulled at his arm. “She will bring disaster and death with her ways. Keir is a fool, to bring a city-dweller among us. Even her own people wished to be rid of her. Punish me if you will, but the truth will not be changed.”

Essa took a step to glare at Iften. “I will explain this to you, Iften of the Boar, for it seems you have forgot ten a truth of our People. You are not being punished for opposing the confirmation of the Warprize.”

“No.” Wild Winds stood, using his staff to pull himself up. The three skulls clattered against each other. “No, Iften of the Boar. Your crime was not to oppose Keir of the Cat and Xylara. It was to attempt to silence this Council’s voices and impose your will.”

Reness stood. “We are of the Plains and of the Tribes, our lives intertwined and dependent on each other. Yet you would use violence to force, not your voice or your wisdom to persuade. That is your offense, Iften of the Tribe of the Boar, Warrior of the Plains. And for it, I name you Outcast.”

Essa nodded, folding his arms over his chest. “I, too, name you Outcast.”

Wild Winds was grim. “I, too, name you Outcast.”

Iften had paled, the bruises about his face in stark contrast to his skin. “No, I—” He swallowed hard. “You warrior-priests have much to lose if the Xyian’s ways are brought to the Plains.”

“Do we?” Wild Winds asked.

Essa turned to face the Elders on the tiers about him. “What say the Council? Shall Iften of the Boar, Warrior of the Plains, be cast out of his Tribe and out of the People?”