The plot. The idiot's plot. The narrative trap that the original novel had laid out — the one where the innocent healer encounters something she does not understand, asks the wrong person, and falls into a situation that spirals beyond her control. It was a trope. A cliché. A plot device so transparent that any reader would see it coming from three chapters away.
And it was happening. Right now. To me.
'This is the plot of the idiot falling into the trap,' I thought, and the amusement was a warm, golden thing that settled in my chest. 'She is going to ask me what that white substance is. She is going to ask me directly. And I am going to—'
I nodded. Set Lira down gently on the bedroll. Covered her with the blanket. Stood.
But before I could follow Elwen, a voice cracked from behind me.
"Wait — do not go with him!"
