“You’re infected, aren’t you, Miss Spindle?” Life drained out of me, replaced by a forge of seething hatred. Hauth continued. “Why else would Ravyn protect you so ardently?” He smiled, cruel. “Your uncle confirmed it.” It felt as if he’d choked me. When I tried to speak, my voice was uneven. “My uncle—he told you?” Hauth nodded, touched by a cold, heartless humor.
