Chapter 17 · The Red Mark

"You need to see this." Virrak pushed through the tent flap before I'd even pulled my boots on. "Now."

I grabbed my coat. "The heir?"

"Worse."

That got me moving. We crossed the camp fast, past cook fires just starting to smoke in the pre-dawn cold. My breath clouded. Virrak's jaw was set in that way that meant someone was about to have a very bad morning.

"Talk while we walk."

"Grain stores," he said. "Third wagon we took from the convoy. Someone got to it."

"Got to it how?"

He didn't answer. Just walked faster.

The storage tent sat at the camp's center, guarded by two of our best. They looked sick. One of them stepped aside when she saw me coming, wouldn't meet my eyes.

Inside, the air smelled wrong. Sharp. Chemical.

I stopped three steps in. "No."

"Red sickness," Virrak said. "Someone dosed the whole stockpile. We didn't catch it until Mara started sorting for breakfast rations."

Mara stood by the grain sacks, her face gray. She held up a handful.