In a cave north of the Dílaenn River, the aftermath of the escape leaves the group wet, freezing, and destitute: most weapons, food, and all horses but Jezebel are lost. Rafa urges going to San Guillaume for sanctuary and supplies, while Chloe insists on San Michon for its forbidden lore to end Daysdeath, and Saoirse proposes sheltering with her Highland clan. Acknowledging Danton Voss has read Chloe’s mind and knows they head north, Gabriel argues the river and forest might throw him off.

Gabriel calls for Dior to choose. Despite loyalty to Chloe and attraction to Saoirse, Dior pragmatically picks San Guillaume for safety and resources. The party sets off through worsening snow; Gabriel suffers mounting withdrawal from fledgling’s blood and rationed sanctus, while Phoebe scouts and occasionally brings small game.

Three days later they enter Fa’daena, the Forest of Sorrows. The wood is overrun by fungal growths—the Blight—usurping dying trees. Saoirse names it Ishaedh and warns it twists all that was once green. Gabriel downplays it until a sudden pain from his addiction flares; he hides it as they press on.

They encounter a majestic stag; Bellamy’s bolt strikes true but the stag reveals hideous infection: fungal pustules and a mouth unfurling into a toothy maw that screams in a little girl’s voice. It charges before Phoebe leaps on its back and snaps its neck. Up close, the group recognizes the Blight’s corruption, its rot-like stench, and Saoirse explains it is worse in the north and growing.

Pressed, Saoirse admits she bears a geas—an oath carved in her own blood and tattoos under the Rígan-Mor and All Mothers—to end the Blight, asserting she cannot be killed until it is fulfilled. She recites a prophecy foretelling rot, lions, angels, secret-keeping sinners, and a “Godling” whose heart will brighten the heavens, which Rafa and Chloe take as further proof Dior is key to ending Daysdeath. Gabriel, increasingly tempted by the blood in his companions’ veins, urges haste.

The company forgoes foraging, lights cautious fires, and is shadowed by eerie shapes and whispers, but nothing attacks. Tempers fray through a fortnight’s march as Gabriel’s sanctus dwindles to flecks. At last they emerge onto tundra, spot the distant Dílaenn, and finally behold San Guillaume on a hill—promising walls, warmth, provisions, and respite. They set their sights on the monastery.