Normally I’d be fixated on the soft expression my new husband is giving me, but all I can think about is that I’m talking about secrets in my sleep. Is real life bleeding over into my dreams? Have I mentioned anything about my father and his hold? His need for artifacts? I need to distract Hawk from this line of thought so he doesn’t pay too much attention if I do so again. “You know, Prellian bowls were a very important part of mealtimes. They had different-sized bowls and different colors of bowls depending on what was being served and at what time. It was considered poor manners to serve anything in a large bowl at the first meal of the day, for example. It implied you were greedy. If a wife wanted to get on her husband’s bad side, she’d keep increasing the size of a bowl, a subtle insult.”

The Taurian chuckles, shaking his head at me. “That’s one of the things I like about you, Aspeth—when you get cornered, you start teaching history lessons about Old Prell. By the time you get to be a guild master, I’ll be as much of an expert as you are, because you’ll have told me so much.”

His words make me pause. “You truly think I’ll get there?”

“If anyone will, it’s you.” He smiles.

I want to preen at his approval.

The afternoon when we start our fifth day in the woods begins with a drizzling rain, and my boots squish with every step I take. It’s the breaking point. The cloak I wear is wet. The socks on my feet are soaked. Everything is covered in mud and damp and cold and I’ve had enough.

“This is ridiculous,” I exclaim, parking my feet at the edge of the stream before we can tie ourselves together for yet another water hike. I turn around to glare at Magpie and Hawk. “Why are we doing this to ourselves?”

Gwenna, Lark, and Mereden look just as miserable as I am. Even Kipp looks a little weary. The big shell of his house hangs lower on his shoulders than it should, a sign that even someone with his expertise can grow tired of this nonsense.

“You know why,” Hawk says, voice harsh. For a moment, I regret I didn’t ask him to go easy on me because I’m his wife. He’s just as hard on me—if not harder than anyone else.

Next to him, Magpie winces and holds her head. She’s looking just as sorry as the rest of us, her clothes wet and muddy, her eyes hollowed out. She acts as if she has a headache, too.

“We’re going to be in tunnels,” I feel the need to point out. “Not—this!” I extend my hands, gesturing at the rain pattering down on us, and then indicate the mud at my feet. “There’s no rain in the Everbelow! There’s no bugs! There—”

“Spiders,” Hawk says immediately. “There are spiders.”

I pause. “They’re just spiders.”

“Not just spiders. They’re great big ones. Terrifying creatures.” His lip curls and he looks absolutely revolted. “I wish there weren’t, but you need to be prepared for such things.”

“You say they’re big? How big?” Lark asks. “Like…the size of a plate?”

“Big as my thumbnail,” he declares in a grave voice, his expression somber. “Trust me when I say they’re horrible.”

My lips twitch, but I promise myself I won’t laugh. “While I hate a spider as much as anyone, I don’t see how this camping excursion continues to help us. We’re more in danger of mosquitos and getting a cold from being rained upon than running into cave spiders. If you really want to teach us what it’s like in the tunnels, we’d be better off indoors, don’t you think?”

He shakes his head. “This is about—”

“I know what it’s about,” I protest, exasperated. “All I’m saying is that there has to be a better way to teach us than to trudge us through a forest full of mud!”

Hawk storms over and plants his hands on his hips, looming over me. Mereden makes an alarmed squeak but I only glare back at the Taurian. If this is an intimidation tactic, it’s not going to work on me. “Do you have something you want to say to me?” he asks in a deadly voice. “Wife?”

“Yes.” I lift my chin. “This is madness. If you want to teach us how to move about in the tunnels, find us a nice dry basement instead and—” I cut off as he puts a finger in my face. “Put that thing away.”

“Aspeth,” he says, his tone full of warning. “I am your teacher. Magpie is your teacher. If we tell you to trudge through the mud for a week straight, that’s what you’re going to do.”

“I really don’t think—”

“Tut!” The finger is under my nose again, raising higher with the sharp syllable. “You’re not here to think, you’re here to learn.”

Now I’m the one making an angry sound. “I’m not some idiot—”

“No, just a terrible listener. And you don’t seem to like being told what to do.” He eyes me balefully, looking nothing like the heavy-eyed bull who fingers me to climax when we’re alone. “I’m thinking you’ve picked the wrong line of work.”

“You’re not here to think, you’re here to teach,” I snap back, using his words against him.

Gwenna hisses between her teeth.

Kipp takes a delicate step away from us.

Hawk gets in my face, his muzzle practically to my nose. “If you were a man, I’d turn you over my knee and spank you like a child, since you’re acting like one.”

I’m not sure why, but the angry flick of his tail hitting his thighs and the loom of him over me doesn’t make me any madder. If anything, it makes heat uncurl deep in my belly. “My gender shouldn’t matter.”

His eyes narrow. “So you do want me to spank you.”

Now we’re both breathing hard.

“Hey, uh,” Lark says. “I think I speak for all of us when I say ‘What the fuck?’ ”

“Mind your business,” Hawk says, not looking away from me. I don’t look away from him, either. If I continue to meet him glare for glare, is he going to make good on his word? Is he going to turn me over on his knee and spank me, his hand on my bare buttocks, me helpless and splayed over his lap…?

Mercy, that should not be as arousing as it is. I blink up at Hawk, and I could swear I see a hint of red in the gleam of his eyes. Is it the moon making him act like this…or does he really want me? It’s most likely the Conquest Moon, as he’s drummed into my ears over and over again, and the realization dampens my arousal.

I’m just convenient, nothing more.

Before I can come up with a response, there’s a distant sound in the woods like that of branches snapping. We all turn, and then a voice calls out, “Ho! Is someone there?”

“Ho,” Magpie calls back in greeting, cupping a hand to her face. “Over here! By the stream!”

To my surprise, the pack I have on my shoulder slips. One of the straps falls away and I turn to grab it, only for the entire thing to tumble to the ground with a wet slap. The blankets, foodstuffs, dry boots, and everything else spill out into the mud, and I want to scream in frustration. Just what I needed.

Gwenna kneels down next to me, picking up one of my boots. “You clumsy, silly thing,” she loudly exclaims as the riders make their way toward us.

I pick up one end of the strap, noticing it’s been unbuckled. What the—

“Pull your hood up,” Gwenna whispers to me. “Do it now. Quickly.”

There’s an urgency in her voice I’ve never heard before. I pull my sodden hood over my hair, looking up at her in surprise. I reach for the boot but she holds on to it, and her gaze meets mine. There’s a warning in her eyes.

“Greetings, greetings,” a man says in a cultured voice, his accent that of the north. Like mine. “Is there a better place to cross this water? My lord Barnabus’s horse has lost a shoe and is too expensive to risk laming on the rocks.”

I freeze, ice going up my spine. Lord Barnabus Chatworth? He’s here?

Gwenna gives me the boot, her expression firm, as if to say See?

Oh, I see now. I take my time shoving things back into my pack, determined to make it last as long as possible. I wonder if I can get sick on command? Right now my stomach is roiling enough that I wouldn’t have to try too hard. Barnabus is here. Why? He’s made it clear to me in the past that busy, dangerous Vastwarren holds no interest for him. Surely he hasn’t come to retrieve me.