Without hesitation, he sat.
Reaching out, she grasped his fingers and closed her eyes. “What are your duties tonight?”
“I don’t take watch again until the mid of night shift. Tomorrow is supposed to be my day off unless the lieutenant decides otherwise.”
Again, she felt for the spark of the young man’s spirit and found it right away. Letting her mind drift forward, she focused on his night watch duties and felt nothing. Then . . . as she moved farther forward, a jolt hit her, and she braced herself.
The soft sounds around her in the tent vanished, and she was jerked into the mists, rushing forward, fearing what she might see. Though she knew she had to do this, it didn’t make observing death or suffering any easier.
The mists cleared, and she found herself standing in broad daylight. Looking around, she realized she was in the miners’ encampment among the collection of shacks and huts.
“Lianne, we have to tell him. We can’t go on like this. It’s not right.”
Turning, Céline saw the round-faced young man. He was holding hands with a girl . . . and pleading with her. “Let me speak to him, please.”
“But, Jadon,” she answered, “what if he says no?”
Moving closer, Céline studied the girl. Her homespun gown was shabby, and her features were somewhat plain, with eyes set too closely together and a mouth full of crooked teeth. But she had lovely hair, a rich shade of chestnut that she wore in a neat, thick braid down her back.
More important, she was looking at the young soldier, whom she’d called Jadon, with open affection, and Céline was well aware of the great shortage of affection in this camp.
“He won’t refuse,” Jadon said. “I’ll explain everything to him.”
“He won’t believe you. He doesn’t trust soldiers.”
“He will. If he wants to help with arrangements, I’ll marry you tomorrow in front of twenty witnesses, and I’ll swear to take you with me when we leave, that I’ll always care for you. If he loves you, he’ll want something better for you than this place.”
“Oh, Jadon,” she breathed, moving closer to him.
Leaning down, he kissed her softly on the mouth.
The kiss lasted only a moment or two before an angry shout sounded. “You! What are you doing? Get your hands off her!”
Looking across the encampment, Céline saw an enraged man carrying a pickaxe striding toward them. Jadon’s hand moved to the hilt of his sword, but the girl gasped.
“No. You can’t fight my father.” Her voice filled with pain. “And he’ll never listen to what you say now. Run!”
The mists rushed in and Céline found herself back in the large tent, looking at the young soldier—who stared back. All the men were poised and tensed.
“No danger,” Céline said quickly, somehow resuming her smile.
But as the soldiers began talking amongst themselves again, she leaned forward. “Your name is Jadon? And you are in love with a chestnut-haired girl named Lianne, a miner’s daughter?”
Jadon blinked several times. “How did you—?”
“The next time you visit her near her home, you will discuss how to tell her father of your plans to marry. Whatever you do, do not kiss Lianne. Don’t even hold her hand. He will be coming soon, and if he sees you touching her, he won’t listen to your case. Stand off from her a pace or two, and he will be more amenable to listen. Do you understand?”
He sputtered in what sounded like confusion for a second or two and then nodded.
Glancing over at the open doorway, Céline saw Jaromir and Quinn both watching her. Jaromir wouldn’t want her wasting time helping two star-crossed lovers, so she shook her head once at him and then turned back to motion Jadon out of the chair.
Young Guardsman Graham was in the mix of gathered soldiers, and her gaze fell on him. He was standing halfway behind Guardsman Saunders. Poor boy. His eyes—one brown and one blue—were still sad. Such a fragile young man did not belong in the military, and she realized he must have depended a good deal on Ramsey. The thought of what had become of Ramsey in that barn unsettled her, and she decided to get this over for Graham as quickly as possible, so she motioned to him with her hand.
Most of the men appeared more relaxed now that they’d seen how the process worked—and they’d seen two men read and immediately excused.
Graham came out from behind Saunders and approached cautiously, sinking into the chair. “Do I just sit here?”
“For the most part, yes,” she answered, reaching out. “I need to touch your hand.”
His fingers were smaller and more slender than those of the previous two soldiers, and his skin was warmer. She closed her eyes. “What is your duty schedule tonight?”
Before he even answered, the first jolt hit her, and she accidentally bit the inside of her mouth. The second jolt hit and she was caught in the mists, being swept forward.
The journey was brief.
When the mists cleared, she was standing outside, in almost utter darkness, listening to the sound of someone choking. A single hanging lantern on the far side of a tent provided the only illumination, but she looked down and about twenty paces away to see Guardsman Graham kneeling in the dirt.
No, she thought, Not him.
Gagging hard, he was struggling to breathe, and she longed to do something, to try to help. Graham cried out as his clothing began to split. Even in the darkness, Céline could see fur sprouting on his hands as his face began to elongate and his chest swelled to an astonishing size.
Within moments, she was looking at an enormous wolf with red eyes. Saliva dripped from its fangs.
The shouts of other soldiers began echoing all around.
The wolf crouched and snarled . . . It charged.
The scene vanished.
“Céline!”
Someone called her name, and she opened her eyes to find herself on her feet, being held up by Jaromir—who was gripping both her shoulders. She was back in the tent.
“Come out of it,” he ordered. “What do you see?”
Looking down, she saw Graham in his chair, rigid, as he, too, waited for her to speak. Her first instinct was to lie and say that she simply saw something frightening in her own future—and then find a way to tell Jaromir quietly. She didn’t want to expose this young man in front of the other soldiers. But Jaromir had made her promise. He’d told her to trust him.
His eyes were expectant.
Against everything in her nature, she said clearly, “It’s him. Graham is turned next.”
Just as Jaromir expected, as the words left Céline’s mouth, pandemonium broke out in the tent—complete with several men drawing their weapons and Graham looking at the doorway as if he’d bolt.
Jaromir let go of Céline and grabbed Graham by the arm.
“Stand down!” he shouted at the men and then called out, “Quinn! Rurik!”
Rurik was already pushing through, coming to his aid, and Quinn appeared at his side. The corporal had been uncomfortable with Jaromir’s rescinding of Keegan’s command, but thankfully, he was still following orders.
“Get the boy’s other arm,” Jaromir told him. “Rurik, get Céline out of here.”
Without looking back or wasting a moment, Jaromir headed for the exit.
“To the barn,” he told Quinn.
With himself on one side of Graham and Quinn on the other, they rapidly half escorted, half dragged the boy across the camp and into the barn. Once inside, Jaromir closed the barn doors.
Graham was panting in what sounded like panic. “Is she right? Is it going to happen to me?”
In truth, Jaromir didn’t know. Céline saw the future, but now that she’d exposed the boy as the next victim, anything could change. They’d proven that back in Sèone. The future could be changed by a single action. However, besides himself, no one but Céline and Amelie knew that a future could be altered, and now that he had a possible victim in his grasp, he needed to see how this would play out.