It took Corec and his friends six days to get from Lanport to the Storm Heights, their pace slowing toward the end as a thin layer of snow built up on the road. They had to slow down even more once they reached Tarvist Pass. The pass may have been straight and flat in comparison to the other paths through the mountains, but it was still rougher going than a real road, and while the snow was still light, there was enough ice to make the footing treacherous. They had to make frequent stops to scrape snowpacks off the horses’ shoes and apply a layer of bear grease to prevent buildup.

Early on the third day into the mountains, they found what they thought was the trail to Snow Crown, though no signs were posted. The snow grew deeper almost immediately after they left the pass, and after just a couple miles, had reached eight inches. The sky was clear and the snow was at least two days old, but they hadn’t seen any footprints or other signs of travelers along the path.

“Is this the right road?” Corec asked.

Boktar, who was riding next to him, said, “It matches the spot on the map. Folks in Lanport said the stormborn don’t get many visitors. I guess they were telling the truth. Wait, here’s something.”

Down the trail in the distance, there were over a dozen figures standing and facing in their direction. Once Corec had drawn close enough to make out their features, it was apparent that the people waiting for them were all stormborn. They had pale skin with a faint tinge of blue, and darker blue and purple markings from their temples down to their necks. The group was a mix of men and women, all of them armed. They wore matching long, padded coats over chainmail, and had the look of soldiers or border guards.

Half of the soldiers carried wicked-looking staff-spears with six-foot shafts. The weapons had curved blades mounted toward the end of the staff and extending six inches beyond it, and the rear of the blade had a hook for catching on armor. The weapon reminded Corec of a voulge, though it was shorter and the blade was slender, like a glaive’s.

The rest of the soldiers were aiming loaded crossbows at the group. Corec and Boktar stopped their horses, keeping their hands away from their weapons. The others came to a halt behind them.

“Visitors, I am Captain Restiv of the Stormborn High Guard,” said the man who stood at the front of the stormborn. He wore a rank insignia on the collar of his coat. “You’ve left Tarvist Pass. To find it, return two miles back the way you came. You must remain on the Tarvist Road at all times during the winter. Any other trails through the mountains are dangerous once the snows fall.”

Ellerie rode forward. “We hoped to visit Snow Crown to speak to your people about an ancient city I’m searching for.”

Restiv stared at her for a moment before speaking, eyeing her pointed ears and silver hair. “It’s rare to see nilvasta here, but other than traders, visitors are not allowed within the Snow Crown without permission. What’s this city you’re looking for?”

“It was called Tir Yadar. I have something like a map to find it, but first I need to find where the map starts, which is near a mountain range. I don’t know which one. I was hoping your people might be able to recognize it if it’s nearby.”

“Wait here, please,” the captain said, then motioned to two other stormborn with less ornate rank insignia on their collars. One, an older man, joined him.

The other was a young woman. She took Restiv’s place facing Corec and his friends, bringing two of the crossbowmen with her. The men kept their bows cocked and loaded, but at least they were no longer aiming directly at them. When the girl rested the butt of her staff-spear against the ground, a flicker of white and blue light ran over it, looking like tiny strands of lightning.

Corec’s head felt funny, and he became aware of a faintly familiar sensation. The girl was a mage. He caught himself before he started casting the binding spell, and felt a sense of relief when it didn’t force its way through his head the way it had with Razai.

He nudged Dot closer to Ellerie. “The girl in front is a mage,” he said in a low tone. “I managed to keep from casting the binding spell.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Too bad you couldn’t have done that the last couple of times.”

At least her tone was less biting tone than usual.

Captain Restiv returned and said, “I’ll send a messenger to the elders to see if they’ll grant permission for your party to visit Snow Crown. It’ll take three days to hear back, as long as the weather holds. In the meantime, you’ll need to return to the Tarvist Road to make camp. If the Council of Elders permits your visit, Lieutenant Sarette will escort your group in.” He nodded toward the young woman, who frowned at him after he’d looked away.

“Thank you,” Ellerie said.

#

Four days later, Sarette brought the procession to a halt after the sun had dipped below the western peaks. “We’ll make camp here. We should reach Snow Crown tomorrow afternoon, and then it’ll take another day to reach the city.”

She’d gotten stuck with escort duty once word had come back that the Council of Elders would permit the strangers into the enclave. Her only consolation was that the trip would be brief. They’d started out just that morning, and she’d be back to her post in five days—less if the elders didn’t make her stay to escort the visitors back out again.

She left her snowshoes on, but slid her heavy packframe off her back and leaned it against a tree, then turned to one of her men. “Trooper Yegor, I’ll set up your tent if you handle the cooking tonight.”

“Yes, miss,” he replied. He’d tasted her cooking enough to know a good deal when he heard one.

While Sarette and Trooper Andri set up the tents, Yegor worked with the strangers to get a fire started. Sarette actually liked the pemmican the High Guard used as trail rations—made up of dried meat, fat, berries, and seeds—but a hot meal would be good for variety.

Done with the tents, she decided she should get to know the outsiders before bringing them to Snow Crown. She hadn’t had time to speak with them while she traveled, since she’d been at the front of the group all day, breaking the trail through the snow.

She looked around for someone to talk to. The nearest of the visitors that wasn’t already busy with something was the blonde human called Treya. She was off to the side, behind her own tent, but was standing on her left foot, her right foot braced against her left knee, holding her arms out to the sides. Her eyes were closed.

The pose was so odd, Sarette couldn’t help blurting out, “What are you doing?”

“I’m practicing,” the girl replied.

Sarette stared at her, confused. “Practicing what?”

Treya opened her eyes and set her other foot down. “It’s difficult to explain, but I’m trying to find the right balance. Have you ever seen a circus contortionist? It’s something like that. The more I know my body, the more I can do with it.”

“I’ve heard of a circus, but they don’t visit here. Where did you learn it?”

“I’m a mystic of the Three Orders.”

Sarette shook her head. “I don’t know what that is.”

“The Orders take in orphan girls and teach them a profession. Most of the girls choose the concubines or scholars, but I chose the mystics. It’s our job to protect the others.”

“What’s a concubine?”

Treya laughed. “That’s something else that’s hard to explain if you’ve never heard of them before. You don’t have concubines here? When a man of wealth seeks female companionship beyond his wife, he hires a concubine to join his family.”

“The wives allow it?” Sarette couldn’t imagine what her mother would say if her father brought home another woman.

“It’s better than having the men go behind their backs to street whores. As concubines, we bring status to the household, and we’re trained in languages, diplomacy, and administration.”

“We?”

“I’m sorry,” the girl said with a grimace. “I trained with the concubines, so I sometimes talk as if I’m one of them, but I’m not. What about you? What’s the High Guard?”

“We defend the enclave and other settlements in the Storm Heights from attacks by snow beasts or the human towns on the plains. And we watch for travelers that get lost or stranded in the mountains, especially in the winter. We watch over Tarvist Pass too, to make sure visitors stick to the road.”

“We didn’t see anyone in the pass, except a caravan that was heading in the other direction.”

“We always know who’s coming through,” Sarette said. The outsiders didn’t need to know about the watchtowers that were set up throughout the mountains, equipped with spyglasses to search for fires in the summer and lost travelers year round. The watchtowers had caught sight of the strangers two days earlier and sent a mirror signal to the scouting corps. The scouts had kept an eye on them from a distance, then warned the High Guard when they left the main road and turned toward Snow Crown.

Trooper Andri came over to the two women. “Lieutenant, your orders for night watch? Shall we coordinate with the visitors?”

“No,” Sarette said. “They can do what they want, but the three of us will keep a standard three-shift watch. I’ll take the middle shift.”

She frowned at Andri as he left. Why would he ask something like that? Was he testing her? She once again regretted her decision to accept a commission. It hadn’t been pleasant being put in charge of a group of men who all had five or ten years of experience in the High Guard when she herself only had ten weeks. The men all looked to Sergeant Hado over her—he was a twenty-year veteran, and Sarette suspected he’d been assigned to her squad because of her own inexperience.

“Is something wrong?” Treya asked.

“No, the men just don’t like taking orders from someone so much younger. I’m an officer, but I’m the most junior officer in the entire Guard. That’s why I was sent with you rather than staying on border patrol.” Sarette realized she probably shouldn’t have said any of that, so she changed the subject. “That, and because I trained as a stormrunner, so they don’t really think of me as one of them.”

“Stormrunner?”

Sarette hefted her staff-spear and charged it with lightning magic. White and blue strands of light crackled down its length, then faded out a few seconds later. Even with constant practice, the longest she’d been able to maintain the charge had been half a minute.

“When Borrisur created Snow Crown, he also created the stormrunners to defend it,” she said. “But the line is dying out. I failed out of the training because my gift wasn’t strong enough.” She tried not to let the hurt show in her voice.

“Corec mentioned you were a mage,” Treya said.

“The human with the big sword? He knows? Anyway, I’m not much of a mage. Since I couldn’t be a stormrunner, I joined the High Guard, but they said I had to be an officer.”

“I don’t understand. How are you an officer if you’re younger than them?”

“Someone’s either an officer or they’re not. It usually depends on whether their family can afford to buy them a spot at the academy, but in my case, they decided my stormrunner training qualified me. Only, I didn’t learn all the same things the cadets learn.” Sarette shook her head in irritation, wondering why she kept bringing up private matters with this stranger. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you all this.”

“It’s all right. I’m happy to talk. Do you want to meet the others?”

#

“Samir!” Rusol exclaimed, clasping his friend’s forearm. “Welcome back. Yassi told me you were on your way…and that you were coming alone.”

“Your Highness, thank you for your welcome,” Samir said, glancing at his sister, who stood silently behind Rusol.

“Why so formal?” Rusol asked, then spoke to the servants in the room. “Everyone, please excuse us. My friends and I wish to speak privately.”

The servants bowed and withdrew, leaving Rusol alone with Samir and Yassi.

“Now,” Rusol continued, in a harsher tone, “what happened?”

“The hunters are dead, Your Highness.”

“All of them?” Rusol had sent four squads—twenty-eight men. “Tell me how. Yassi wasn’t able to see anything that happened beyond the scrying ward.”

Samir took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “The hunters are horrid, Rus. Even though we took plenty of food, they still went out in the middle of the night and caught wild animals and ate them…raw. I couldn’t take them into any towns, and I couldn’t stay with them when I had to go into town. I don’t trust them for a minute—I should have brought someone else with me to watch them. Why do you need them?”

Rusol growled low in his throat. “I can’t send the regular mercenaries, and I certainly can’t send the army or the royal guard. I don’t want the other kingdoms—or the other wardens—to find out Larso is sending troops outside its borders. At least the hunters can’t talk about what they’ve seen or done.”

“It’s wrong, Rus. They’re wrong! Why send them in the first place? Why do you need the hunters at all?”

“If the other wardens come after me again, they won’t stop at just me, will they?” Rusol pointed at Yassi, who still stood watching the two men expressionlessly. “They’ll kill my bondmates, too. Now tell me what happened!”

Samir glowered with anger, but got himself under control. “Lord Leonis is in Blue Vale, as you thought, but he doesn’t just rule the city. All the towns in the basin—they call it the Carved Basin—follow him. He’s practically a king.”

Rusol frowned. There were no real kingdoms in the northern plains, and no governments larger than a single town, but according to the maps, the river basin was huge, almost a third the size of Larso. Blue Vale was the only major city in the area, but there had to be a dozen other towns and a hundred or more villages.

“How? Why do they look to him?” The plainsmen were insular, and not prone to following anyone who set themselves up as a leader.

“According to the people I spoke to, he’s spent the past several years driving all the barbarians away. The other towns have started sending him tribute in exchange for protection.”

When Larso had stopped the last barbarian incursion during the North Border War three decades earlier, half of the invading tribes had stayed behind in the basin afterward, raiding the scattered settlements there rather than returning to their homeland. That disarray had ensured that Larso’s northern neighbors remained weak, so Rusol’s father had been happy enough with the result. If things had changed, he’d want to know.

“There have been rumors about Leonis for a lot longer than five years,” Rusol said. “Why didn’t he do anything earlier?”

“The story I heard was that he didn’t have a problem with the barbarians until they attacked the farming villages near Blue Vale. It was the first time they’d gotten close to the city. That’s when Leonis decided to act, but instead of just driving them away from Blue Vale, he and his army wiped out or drove away every tribe in the basin.”

“He has an army?” Rusol asked.

“Well, people claimed he did, but I didn’t see any sign of one, not even in Blue Vale. Just a few guardsmen protecting the palace. They didn’t last long against the hunters.”

“If there was no army, then what killed the hunters?”

“He did, I think. I didn’t go into the palace with them, so I had to do a viewing. He just pointed at them and they all fell. Almost twenty of the hunters made it that far, but they were all dead within seconds.”

“He killed them all that easily?” Rusol asked. “He must be the warden, then.” It was also another reminder that the hunters were a failure. They’d been less effective than Rusol had hoped on every task he’d sent them on so far. He simply didn’t have enough control over them, and they didn’t have enough control over their own minds.

“I don’t know about a warden, but he’s a priest. Of Pallisur.”

“A priest? How did a priest of Pallisur end up ruling a city? Is he a renegade from the Church here?”

“I don’t know, but he might be the son or the grandson of the original Leonis. The people say he’s been in Blue Vale for fifty or sixty years, but the man I saw couldn’t have been older than twenty-five.”

That meant Leonis had to be the warden. Rusol hadn’t told Samir about the long lifespan that accompanied the warden bond, not wanting the man to know all his secrets. Their friendship had been on shaky ground ever since Rusol had bonded Yassi, and Samir didn’t even know the whole truth about that. Rusol had made sure she wouldn’t be able to tell him.

“If he’s a priest, that changes things,” Rusol said. “He might not be that strong after all, but just has some sort of power over demons. Or those controlled by demonic magic.”

Yassi broke her silence. “The barbarians aren’t demons, but he still defeated them.” She immediately looked as if she regretted speaking.

Rusol clenched his fists but managed to keep from scowling at her. The woman seemed to take delight in pointing out his mistakes. “I wasn’t suggesting he was weak. Just not as strong as the story might have suggested. Divine magic works best against undead and demons—it’s unlikely his spell would have worked otherwise. As for the barbarians, most of the work could have been done by his bondmates, or the army your brother couldn’t find. In any case, the hunters will be useless against him. I’ll have to find some other task for the ones that are left. As for Leonis, I wonder…” He trailed off.

“Your Highness?” Samir prompted him.

“I’d like you to deliver a note for me asking him for a meeting, warden to warden. I don’t know which of them was behind the attack, but he doesn’t have to know I suspect him.”

Rusol looked human, and he could disguise his demonborn nature enough that even a priest wouldn’t be able to discern it. If he could get close to Leonis, he might be able to take care of the matter personally.