PROLOGUE

‘I’m not going.’ An exasperated female voice burst out, followed by a slamming door.

Nightshade’s brother – Phillip – leant against the doorframe of the tribeswoman’s room with a sigh.

‘Nightshade.’ When no answer can Phillip continued loftily. ‘Nightshade, you don’t even have to stay for long but it is expected of you.’

The door opened slightly so Nightshade’s large hazel eyes could scowl at her brother, her slender form leaning against the wall.

‘They’ll know.’ She whispered, her voice full of hate and venom. ‘What if I have a fit? What if… what if one of them touches me?’

‘I will protect you, Nightshade. Besides… the curse has been dormant since…’ Phillip trailed off hopelessly as he tried to recall Nightshade’s last fit in public.

‘Since Mother died?’ Nightshade offered. She stood aside and Phillip entered her room. ‘And if I’m chosen, Phillip? It doesn’t matter what rank you think you are...’

‘The Fires wouldn’t harm you.’

‘Then it would be obvious who I am.’

Nightshade sat on the furs as a small cat padded over to nuzzle the gloved woman’s hand with its face. Nightshade’s fingers gently stroked the cats. The little contact she could have.

‘We’ll find a cure.’

‘No. We won’t and you know it.’ Nightshade replied coolly as the cat purred softly against her hand. ‘I will not go out to the festival to see the lovers kissing and touching when I…’ Her voice trailed off. ‘When I can’t love.’

Phillip was silent was what seemed like an eternity, shuffling uncomfortable.

‘I know you love Henrietta.’ Nightshade’s voice like ice. ‘I’m not an idiot.’ She picked up her bag, standing to her feet. ‘I will take the next journey alone.’

‘Don’t be a fool.’

Nightshade’s arresting eyes stared straight through him.

‘You will stay here. I have used enough of your years. I will find the cure alone. It is my burden. Not yours.’

‘Where will you go?’

Nightshade began to collect up her vials into her sack, slotting them in the little compartments she had sewed herself. She pulled her shoulder length short chestnut hair back out of her face and reached out for her moss-green cloak.

‘There is only one territory we haven’t tried.’ She replied with a weak shrug.

‘The Half-breeds.’ Phillip snarled with anger. ‘You can’t possibly think they could cure your curse… not after everything they have done to us.’

Nightshade glared at him.

‘You forget, Phillip. I am a Half-breed. I have no choice.’

‘You won’t even make the swamps alone.’

‘Shush.’ Nightshade retorted. She walked over and blew out her incense and candles. Phillip watched as she made her way to the door, about to walk away without another word.

‘And if you don’t find a cure?’

‘Then I’ll have to die. Or turn.’ Nightshade replied without turning to glance back at him. ‘Goodbye, Phillip.’ Then she was gone.