“I said, leave it alone.” Blyth smacked Cassius’ hand away from his bandaged arm. “You’ll only irritate it more.”

“But it itches so bad.”

Despite Paku—Blyth’s round and ruddy tabby—lounging atop him all night, a small bruise still remained, leaving him to scratch and pat the surrounding skin as feeling returned in the form of incessant itching.

“It’s called healing. And it would go much faster if you would just leave. It. Alone.”

“Shh—” Stahdler halted with raised hand. “We’re here.”

Their small company crested the last hill of the Silvercrest Mountains, keeping to the shadows of the canopy. Stretching beyond them, a wide valley of hills formed the mossy plain that led to the base of the White Ridge. They sprung from the plain like gray teeth, their peeks still dusted white even in early summer. Below them, the city of Falorn sprawled out along the ridge, puffing up smoke and as gray as the stone around them.

“Welcome to Falorn,” Blyth cheered with a sneer, “the best place for feasting, fucking, and getting fucked over.”

“Blyth!” Stahdler hissed but went ignored by the impassioned cynic.

“And, for the measly price of half your earnings, you can do all three in one night at the council’s grand hall—complete with trapeze.”

“Straga mal,” Stahdler huffed a curse and kicked Blyth’s buck in the rump, sending him bounding down the hillside.

“Please excuse him. The city no doubt has its problems, but don’t let that taint your perception. Most of the people here are quite pleasant with more…simple tastes. Blyth just got involved with the wrong ones. Now come, I have something you need to see. Particularly you, Aidan.”

Stahdler led them along the hillcrest to a clearing where the entire ridge was visible. Past the dirt roads and scattered crop fields, the plain burst with vegetation—scrubby and short, but studded with buds and verdant green from snowmelt and the approaching full moon. And to the northwest, stretching the entirety of the horizon, a blanket of ice a mile thick slumbered on its bed of stone, awaiting the next snowfall.

“Is that…” Syra asked, pointing to the encroaching glacier.

“The White Waste.” Stahdler stared both in awe and worry. “It eats more land every year and is now claiming the sea ice. Our flameweavers try their best, but some ice is always left to feed it. At the rate it’s going, we’ll eventually lose the city.”

He turned an honest eye to Aidan, “This is why Koth is so important. Why our border and trade agreements must be kept firm and stable. It isn’t just the fish. It’s our survival.”

Aidan offered a confident nod, but his eyes were frozen to the white horizon.

“I truly didn’t know. Father never mentioned anything—”

“Well, now you do. And you can take that knowledge back to your father and his council, and hopefully stop these disagreements before they escalate any further.”

“Now,” he addressed the company, “we’ll split up from here. I’ll take the supplies to the gate and get everyone busy preparing. Leti, you take the others around through the western forest and enter through the old orchard. Stick to the creekside and Ariksi will meet you by the barn. Valen should arrive in the morning, but until then keep your hoods up just in case.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Leti,” his gaze softened, “don’t get too looney tonight. Remember, the roof is old.”

“Aiya,” Leti groaned and tugged her buck away. “The saying is, ‘be careful’.”

They followed the small stream that cut through the forested ravine. The twins craned their necks to keep eyes on the skyline, but the slopping canopy only teased the setting sun. The wind spoke of cut pine, fresh dirt, and smoke, and to their relief, came from the north.

“We still have some time,” Leti said, her wide nostrils flaring in the breeze, “but let’s hurry just in case. Once the wind shifts, the skyrays will be right over us and we can’t risk the crossfire.”

Their frosthoof rides huffed up the switchback trails of the western outskirts. By the time they reached the orchard Aidan and the twin’s rides snorted threats to buck off their oversized loads.

“The barn is just a little further," said Leti, pointing past the overgrown grove of flowering trees.

As they marched through the rows of scarred trees, Syra's skin tingled. She grazed her fingers across the trunck of one as they past and jumped when a surge of mana buzzed her fingertips.

"You alright?" Aidan asked.

"Yes, just surprised." She pressed a hand against the next tree and again felt the warm flow rippling through its trunk.

"Are these parchment trees?" She asked Leti after a quick check of the leaves and flowers.

"Were. My aunt used make spell tags from them, but that was decades ago—before the ban. No use for them now."

"Why not sell them?" Aidan asked. "Or the plain parchment at least. I know several merchants—and a witch—who would probably be interested. If anything, I'm sure our academy could use the extra supply."

"Oh, I'm sure we could strike some kind of deal. But good luck convincing the council—unless you paid them directly, then maybe. But anyway, we're here. So keep quiet."

Leti dismounted first but kept her eyes sharp and dagger ready. The others followed suit, staying some steps behind as she waded up to the caved-in shed. Then she stopped, hand raised and round eyes scanning the branches.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, she trilled a guttural call, waited, then called again.

This time her call was answered in kind as Igwi swooped down from the rafters.

“There you are!” A grinning nordess draped in colorful shawls emerged from the shadow of the barn door. A flare of owl feathers cuffed her ear and painted scales framed her eyes. While the creases betrayed her age, the headful of long braids spoke of nimble fingers, and their adorning stones and shells clicked in rhythm as she skuttled towards them. “The heat’s already leaving, so I was worried you’d be too late.”

The two patted arms and Leti waved the party over, “It’s alright. This is my aunt, Ariksi. She’ll be hiding you while you’re here.”

“So, which of you are the Montari?” Ariksi scanned the party with bright and eager eyes.

Syra hesitated but Leti gave her the go-ahead.

“We are.” Syra motioned to herself and the twins. “Thank you so much for helping us. We really—”

“Just lovely!” Ariksi throttled a squeal and grabbed both of Syra’s hands, “Even your hair shines like metal.” She ducked her head in a swift bow and pressed Syra’s hands to her forehead. “It is stunning enough to see you in-flight during The Hunt,” she spoke in near-fluent Draconic and moved on to repeat the gesture with both Petra and Cassius, “but to host you in my own home—and during such an occasion—I am truly honored. We are honored, so please let us know how best to help you.”

The siblings stiffened from the sudden greeting of appreciation, and Aidan bit his knuckle to keep from laughing at their stunned faces.

“We?” Syra asked when her senses returned.

“Oh yes, we. Much we, are we—did that even make sense? Nevermind.” She waved her thoughts away and went to crunching through the fronds to a thin trail barely visible beneath the new growth. “This way, now. We must get you hidden before the crowds come.”

They trekked until the trees thinned into a small settlement west of the main city. While the perimeter was littered with wooden shacks and cottages, a city woven by steel terraced up the mountainside. Its painted glass windows gleamed from vaulted roofs. The ledges housed lodges of chiseled stone and bright metals. And all their dusty chimneys puffed smoke that darkened any snow hiding in narrow streets. A stark contrast from the tiny ground huts in Koth.

“Ugh, what smells?” Petra scowled and she and the others covered their noses from the acidic sting on the breeze.

Ariksi stopped them in the shadow of the settlement hall and pointed to the towering column that leaked black clouds.

“That would be the forge. The wind makes it worse than usual, but you’ll get used to it.”

“Wait, so this is normal?” Petra asked through her hands. “And I thought our dung pits were bad. At least we cover them up.”

“It wasn’t always like this,” Ariksi said, casting a forlorn gaze over the haggard housing and sooted trees. “Puhpuh Dom would be so sad to see it now.”

“Is this because of the shard?” asked Syra.

But Ariksi shook her head, “No, Puppuh sealed that away a long time ago. This…is ‘innovation’.”

“Boosh,” Leti cursed as she jiggled the hall door open. “Innovation would be fixing this ragged door.”

“Maybe, but that’s what the council is calling it.” Ariksi shuffled everyone inside the hall and heaved the door shut. “Speaking of, how’s Blyth and Rasu?”

“Still as fickle as ever,” Leti said, seating the party around the hall’s large center table.

“I like them,” Syra said, tearing her eyes away from the hall's trunk-like pillars and their carvings. “Rasu was particularly helpful.”

“Rasu’s mouth is too big for his body,” Leti added, “but he’s polite and keeps himself up, unlike that gristled old magpie of yours.”

“Has he gotten that bad? Do I need to—”

“No.” Leti waved a stern finger at her aunt. “No, you stay. He’s single-minded but he's managing—we all have heaters now. He even cooked dinner for us the other night.”

“Thank Erd. I was worried he’d be too caught-up to help you.”

“He did help, in his own way,” said Cassius, spying Ariksi’s twin-tailed tortoiseshell sprawled on a windowsill, the warm light glinting off her jeweled collar. “Now we just need help getting to the shard without being caught.”

“And that’s why you’re here.” Ariksi puffed out her chest. “The council likes to keep this place guarded—making sure we’re not getting 'too magical' and all. But the city guards will look for any excuse to avoid us Scree stoneheads, and The Hunt has nearly emptied the place. Once it starts, the backstreets should be well-cleared. Once you have the shard, come back here. Those pompous vultures won’t dare dawdle here tonight.”

“Why not?” asked Syra. “Too much magic for them?”

Leti shook her head and pointed to the broken rafter above the table, “No trapeze.”

Their laughter was caught off by the dimming room as a large cloud passed over the sun. The branches outside rustled and bowed, and the glass of the old windows rattled in the strong eastern wind.

Ariksi rushed to the window, eyes locked on the sky and the swarm of dots entering the valley. Then the horns sounded.

“They’re here.”