Prologue

Dhin was a merchant, not royalty, yet here he stood in the antechamber of a grand mansion and surrounded by craftwork worthy of a king’s treasury.

“You sure about this?” Sol said behind him.

Her voice brought a smile to his lips. “Uh huh,” he mumbled and studied the exquisite sandglass in front of him. Carved out of a single piece of granite, it was made to look like a chalice pouring water regardless of which end was up. And so delicate, the very notion of turning it over seemed preposterous.

“You’re not listening, are you?” she said.

“Sure am.” Circling the pedestal holding the sandglass, he came to a full-sized statue of a pelt- and tattoo-covered barbarian so intimidating he felt a sudden urge to retreat despite her relaxed posture and distant stare.

“By the moon-goddess, Dhin. Pay attention.”

“What?” He turned to her—his beautiful Garr wife, with hair like the scorching sun and skin so fair and unblemished, pearls would be jealous. “I’m sorry, my love, I may have drifted. I’m just so excited.” He gestured around the lavishly decorated room. “Just look at it. If we play our cards right, we’ll soon afford marvels like these.”

She shook her head and smacked her tongue in disapproval. “Your father would never agree to this. Not now.”

“That’s just it, Sol.” He crossed the anteroom to share seat with her, but before sitting in the grand sofa dressed in marine velvet, he made sure the bag slung over his shoulder didn’t disturb the baby resting in her arms. “We need the influence they may bring.” He reached out to caress her cheek, then focused on the baby. His son. The tiny being carrying his large, yellow eyes and the snow-white skin of his mother—the one who had upended all of his priorities overnight simply by being born. “We’ve got little Eld over here to think about now, don’t we?” Feeling his cooing son grab his finger made him smile. “You see? I can’t go around hoping to make ends meet. Not anymore. I have to think further—grander—than my old man.”

“Out here in the wastes?” She glanced at the things in the room, each item worth more than they would earn in a rotation of seasons. “What’s the point of it if we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere? What if they want us to stay?”

“Then I simply say no. Jericho always kept his end of the deal and I believe his master is as honest.” Seeing doubt in Sol’s face, he shifted around and slipped down on one knee on the floor in front of her, allowing him to look her square in the eyes. “Hey, don’t worry. We drop this thing off,” he patted the bag to accentuate his words, “then, when Sliver-moon festival ends, we’ll go straight back home to Istvaria. All of it won’t be more than a couple of days, I promise.”

“I’m not sure …”

He snickered and ran a hand through her hair. “Trust me, my lustrous, everlasting sun. I’d never put you or my boy in harm’s way.”

She squinted at him and pursed her lips, seemingly wanting to be stubborn, then sighed and giggled. “That’s not fair. You know I can’t stay mad at you when you play silly.”

“Well, that’s kind of the point, is it not?” He leaned forward and gave her a one-armed hug. “I don’t want you to worry all day, it’s not good for you or the baby. Besides—”

The large, oaken door leading further into the mansion creaked open, drawing both of theirs attention.

A man in a tunic of fine, red silk appeared in the doorway. “The guild master is ready to see you.”

“Come now, love. This will be over in a jiffy,” Dhin whispered and got up, making sure the bag slung over his shoulder was with him, then turned to the man by the door. “Appreciate it, sir. Please, lead the way.”

After a short walk through a hallway illuminated by chandeliers and crowded with pedestals, priceless sculptures, and beautiful tapestries, they came to a set of double-doors.

The guide pushed the doors open without stopping and led them into an audience chamber as lavishly decorated as the previous rooms.

Next to a side-door, a fire roared in a hearth, turning the crisp northern air warm. Carpets of weaved cotton covered the cold marble floor, and tapestries and paintings depicting epic landscapes framed a dozen oval windows with colored glass.

Dhin took in the room with wide eyes. He couldn’t remember ever seeing so much wealth gathered in the same location.

“Psst,” the guide whispered to Dhin low enough not to disturb the chatter coming from the banquet table standing in the middle of the room. “Final piece of advice. Don’t piss her off, okay?” After that, he called out to the ones by the table. “The merchant Dhin Nostreya has come all the way from Istvaria to meet you, master.”

Out of the five present, only a short, stocky woman with shortcut, red hair reacted. “Finally some good news!” she said and got up. The pair of trousers embellished with finely cut fur she wore, together with the blouse of red silk with short sleeves commonly seen in the south, made it seem she was ready for an evening banquet and a week of hunting at the same time. “Was that all?”

“Yes, master,” the guide said.

“Well then, what are you waiting for?” she said. “Back to your duties until I have need of you.”

“Yes, master. As you wish, master,” the guide said and retreated, offering curt bows all the way out, before closing the doors.

The woman barely waited for the bang of the doors before she took to word. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Nostreya.” She motioned him closer. “Although Jericho speaks highly of you, I’d like to have a proper look myself.” Her mannerism, guttural accent and odd combination of clothes told him she’d spent rotations, if not decades, in the deep north despite her southern features.

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” Dhin told Sol, then touched the red feather hanging around his neck for luck and approached the table. “I’m honored to be—” His words caught in his throat when he noticed a black jewelry box suspended in the air in front of a robed elf by the short end of the table. “I’m—I’m, uh, sorry,” He cleared his throat when he realized he’d stopped talking. “Where was I, guild master?”

“Ease up, Nostreya. Alegae’jed’s shenanigans has that effect on everyone,” the woman said and chuckled.

The brutish-looking northerner to her right chuckled too, his large frame bobbing in rhythm with the noise while he carved meat from a grilled chicken.

“And we’re all friends here,” she continued. “Call me Ruby.”

“All right. Ruby it is,” Dhin said and approached the table, preparing to employ the very best of his haggling techniques. He greeted all five present by offering each of them a curt nod, starting from left to right with an old man with the telltale dark skin of ocean-folk, a young woman with a clean-shaven head, the guild master Ruby, the northerner and then ending with the elf. “I have what you asked for Ruby, but it required me to journey through the most precarious of swamps.” With large, exaggerated moves, he mimicked a traveler wading through sludge and water. “I had to—”

“Melune burn me!” the northerner said and slammed his dagger into the table. “I don’t care for Istvari theatrics. Just show us the bloody thing.”

“I, uh, thought this was a location of trade,” Dhin said and looked from the northerner to Ruby. “A place to put rivalries aside and practice the honest craft of negotiation.”

“It is, it is,” Ruby said and put a hand on the northerner’s shoulder. “It’s just … What my friend is trying to say is that you’re in no position to barter here.”

Dhin cleared his throat again. “But I was told—”

“Doesn’t matter what you were told,” Ruby interrupted. “If you have what we’re looking for, you’ll be handsomely rewarded, trust me. Otherwise, we’ll simply part ways.”

“Not quite what I had in mind but okay, that sounds fair,” Dhin conceded and opened his sling bag. Inside lay a glass tube containing a piece of dark, wisp-like fur. He removed the tube from the bag and gently placed it on the table. “The fur of a shade, like you asked for. I have two more of them in my tent.”

The young woman with a clean-shaven head and the reddish hue of Islanders, the one sitting to the left of Ruby, perked up at that. “I don’t … uh, believe you. Not—Not until I’ve verified it.” She pulled out a loupe from a pocket in her vest and leaned forward, then waited for Ruby to nod before grabbing the tube. “I … uh … I think—Perhaps.” She looked up at the others. “It’s quite difficult to be sure, you see? Quite uh, difficult … uh, to tell if it’s real … or, uh, not. It will take me, oh, I don’t know—”

A sudden thud stole everybody’s attention. The black box previously suspended in the air now lay on the table.

“I’ll have a look,” Algae’jed said and raised an arm.

The appraiser yelped with surprise as the tube snatched out of her hands. “Rude!” she squeaked when it flew into the elf’s waiting hand.

“You followed the instructions to the letter, Nostreya. Diligence. We value that in our circles,” Ruby said and fished out a coin pouch, then tossed it to Dhin. “That should cover the costs of getting here.”

“Appreciate it, Ruby,” Dhin said and slid the pouch into his sling bag. “What about the fur?”

“It’s the real deal,” Algae’jed confirmed and rolled the tube back across the table.

The appraiser scrambled to jerk it up with an aghast expression on her face.

“What’s it worth?” Ruby asked and swept her eyes across her colleagues.

“It’s priceless!” the appraiser said. “It’s worth—”

“—it’s weight in gold,” the northerner finished.

The only one who hadn’t spoken yet, the old man from across the ocean, slowly bobbed his head—making his long, gray braids swing. “He performed admirably, Ruby. Pay him. He’ll be a useful resource.”

“Resource?” Dhin asked.

“You travel a lot, don’t you?” Ruby said. “And you have a family to take care of, no?”

“Uh, yes,” Dhin said, feeling a knot of tension form in his belly. “Why?”

Ruby nodded. “Good, then it’s decided. You brought us something priceless, and we’ll offer you something priceless in return.” She looked at Algae’jed and gestured for Dhin with a curt nod. “Give him the box.”

Algae’jed only hesitated for a moment before raising the item into the air with a gentle motion of his finger, and then hovered it to Dhin.

“It’s a piece of magical properties, a timestone I’m sure will serve you well. It will provide shelter and protection for you and your family, no matter where you go,” Ruby said. “Essential for any traveling man, don’t you think?”

When the box landed in Dhin’s hand, he felt a wave of relief. Although the meeting hadn’t played out as expected, being rewarded with a timestone was far beyond what he’d imagined. He smiled and showed the item to Sol before slipping it into his pocket, then bowed to Ruby and the people around the table.

“You’ll find a note with instructions inside,” Ruby said.

“Thank you, master Ruby. Thank you all. I’ll have the other tubes delivered at once.” Dhin started to retreat with repeated bows. “If you have need of my expertise again, please don’t hesitate to summon me.”

“Hold for a moment,” Ruby said, stopping him in his tracks.

“Yes?” Dhin asked.

“It’s been fruitful to collaborate with you, Nostreya, and something I wish we’ll keep doing for rotations to come,” she said. “Problem is, you’ve seen too many secrets to simply let you go without insurance.”

“Uh, what—What does that mean?” he said.

“It means,” she said and gestured to her companions, “that I’m promoting you to a full-fledged member of our fine clique.”

“It’s quick business,” the old man said and got up from his chair. “Just a small mark to show your allegiance, and to prevent you from ratting us out.” He walked over to the hearth and took a red-hot branding iron from the fire.

“Wait—Wait, no.” Dhin shook his head and backpedaled. “I never agreed to this. I don’t want—”

“It’s not a question of want,” Ruby cut him off. “Before the sun falls, one of you two will carry our brand. It’s your choice.”

Algae’jed got up and raised a hand.

“No!” Sol suddenly screamed. “Not my son!”

Dhin turned to see Sol reaching for the baby, who was now floating in the air just like the black box had moments ago.

“Let my son go!” Dhin shouted and spun on the elf.

Algae’jed ignored him and simply looked at Ruby, awaiting further orders.

“Let go now or I’ll—I’ll—” Dhin said.

“For the love of the Goddess, Dhin!” Sol said. “Just do what they say!”

“Listen to your wife,” the old man said and returned to the table, then produced wisps of dark smoke by tapping a chair with the glowing iron. “Take a seat and relax. It’s easier if we don’t have to strap you down first.”

Dhin cast his eyes from his baby, to the elf and the chair, not knowing where to turn. Finally, he focused on the guild master, knowing she’d be his best bet. “Please, Ruby. Please, let him go.”

Ruby tilted her head in consideration, then nodded at Algae’jed. “I think he got the point.”

Algae’jed grunted. As he did, the baby fell into Sol’s waiting arms, still cooing and looking around the room with big, innocent eyes.

Dhin turned to the old man. “Whe—Whe—” The notion of the red-hot triangle at the end of the iron touching his skin turned his mouth dry as a desert. He licked his lips and tried again. “Ahem, where?”

“The neck or the sole of a foot. Your choice,” the old man said. “Though branding the foot is said to hurt a fair bit more and you won’t walk properly for at least half a cycle.”

Dhin swallowed and nodded, then briefly glanced in Sol’s direction. Hiding his foot would be easier, but he’d promised her this was the end of the journey. Not a day past Sliver-moon festival up here in the north. He swallowed again and felt his stomach churn as he made up his mind. “Neck it is.”

The old man nodded with a look of approval. Using an arm, he swept aside his braids to reveal the old scar of a triangle on his neck. “Most people do the feet thinking they can escape the consequences of their actions. It doesn’t work like that. Those who choose the neck on the other hand seem to flourish within our organization.”

Dhin looked from the branding iron to the chair and table. “How do I …?”

“Head against table and keep the hair away,” the old man said. “If you want, we can do it.”

Dhin shook his head. “No, no. I’ll do it, just let me …” He removed the sling bag and the red feather hanging around his neck, stashed the feather inside the bag, and then gently folded the package on top of the table under the scrutinizing eyes of everyone. Afterwards, he unbuttoned, removed and folded his vest over the chair.

“You’re a tough knot, Nostreya, I like it.” Ruby said and slid a wooden fork across the table. “Bite this”

Dhin picked it up and couldn’t help but chuckle—a short, mirthless laugh—at seeing the intricate lines curving along the shaft, which turned the wood into yet another piece of treasure. It reminded him of one of his father’s lessons. If your haggling seems to go too well, it probably is. Consider which direction the agreement might take you down the road, and if that’s where you really want to be. Why didn’t he just listen to his father? He sighed and put the fork between his teeth, then took a seat and put an ear against the surface of the table.

“The hair,” the old man said and positioned himself behind Dhin.

Dhin grunted and moved his hair aside before closing his eyes. “Appearance and emotions,” he mumbled to prepare himself for the coming pain. “A trader must be confident.”

“What’s that now?” the old man asked.

Dhin glanced at him and removed the fork. “Nothing. Just an old family saying.” After putting it back in, he grabbed hold of the chair with his free hand. His mind raced and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. The actions that had led him there—from the first, innocent contact, to bartering his way through the ranks—flashed in his head. Each step by itself a minor, harmless adventure on the pathway to riches. Now, he regretted every single step.

A deafening whistle, high-pitched and eerie, sounded outside the mansion.

The old man pulled back the iron and looked up. “What was that?”

“Bloody pits. Damned if I know,” Ruby said and turned to Algae’jed. “You sensed something?”

The elf had gotten up to stare at one of the many side-doors, as if trying to see through the wood. He shook his head after a moment. “Probably noth—”

A sudden explosion rattled the whole building and sent Dhin tumbling to the floor.

“By Goddess!” the old man groaned when he landed next to Dhin. “What—”

The baby’s scream caught Dhin’s full-blown attention. Sol was lying in the corner of the room with Eld in her arms. “Sol!” He crawled for her, slipping and kicking shards of broken sculptures and vases with every move. “Don’t move, I’m coming!”

“What in Melune’s pits was that?” Ruby shouted, now wielding an axe and a dagger and searching for a target. Smudged blood covered her temple and blended with her red hair.

“I’m on it,” the northerner bellowed, already halfway across the room to the side-door the elf stared at.

Algae’jed moved his arms in large circles, mumbling words under his breath and invoking layers of blueish fields around him and Ruby.

Three more whistles resounded, each followed by explosions that rumbled the whole manor. A chandelier dropped from the ceiling and crashed with a deafening noise against the field surrounding Ruby, and stirring up dust and debris as the splintered crystals pelted the room.

“Take cover, Sol!” Dhin said. “It’s an earthquake!”

“It’s no Goddess-damned earthquake, you moron!” Algae’jed shouted. “It’s magic!”

Finally reaching his wife, Dhin swept away the debris along the ground and dragged her behind a nearby cupboard that had fallen over. “Get under me! Protect Eld!” He moved to cover both of them, then peeked over the cupboard.

The northerner kicked the door open, filling the audience chamber with screams of disorder, and popped his head out for a moment. When he came back in, he did so with a panic-stricken expression. “Fuck it Ruby! She’s here. The fucking raven is here!” Barely had he finished the sentence when a sword of white-hot fire appeared in the air behind him. It swept along his shoulders, cutting his head clean off with a smolder. When his body collapsed, his still blinking eyes didn’t seem to grasp what had occurred.

“Narwá save me,” Dhin gasped and felt his belly churn.

“Melune’s trickery!” Ruby said and threw herself behind the table where the old man and the appraiser had taken cover.

The sword of fire vanished and a young woman strolled through the opened doorway. Long, ash-white hair flowed down the back of her plain, white tunic and pants. Except for side-stepping the head of the barbarian, she ignored the corpse and the gathering pool of blood, and instead swept her eyes across the room until she found the elf. “There you are, Algae’jed.” She spoke softly, yet her words pierced the chaos with ease. “You knew I would come sooner or later, so don’t look surprised.”

“Oh, on the contrary, master,” Algae’jed said and used his hands to form swirls in the air.

A powerful gust rushed through the hall, slamming the door shut behind the woman and dragging debris with it. Cups and cutlery took to wind. Crystal shards, broken sculptures and smashed vases followed as it grew in intensity.

“Stay down, Sol,” Dhin said and huddled closer to her and the baby as the wind turned into a tornado that tore at his hair and clothes. “Hold me and don’t let go.”

Chairs, paintings and pedestals joined the flying rubble. The items hurled against the woman called Raven, but broke into pieces when they smashed against an invisible wall just inches from her body.

“See?” Algae’jed screamed over the storm. “I know things you can only dream of Dy—”

With a sweeping motion, Raven sent forth a spider’s web of hoarfrost across the floor and walls, causing the temperature to instantly drop below freezing temperature.

When the ice extinguished the fire in the hearth, the room turned black.

“What’s happening?” Sol said. “I—I can’t see!”

“Just stay down. I’ll tell you when it’s safe to look,” Dhin grunted and pulled her closer. The floor was freezing but the adrenaline pumping through his veins kept him burning hot. Meanwhile, Sol quivered underneath him. He had to do something! He squinted, trying to assess the situation with the faint daylight making it through the dark, colored glass, but it was difficult to see and think in the confusion. The clatter of pelting debris continued over the raging wind, which was echoed by a continuous barrage of ear-splitting whistles. A consequence of the battle between the strange woman and Algae’jed, he assumed.

Suddenly, a wall of fire sprang up by the table with a deafening roar, and the temperature went from winter-night to a furnace in a heartbeat.

Algae’jed stood on the table with arms up, directing tendrils of the fire to meet a stream of ice spears that Raven were launching at him—each projectile and resulting clash producing the ear-splitting noise. He seemed to relinquish control of the tornado to focus on the fire, letting the wind fade and the airborne debris and furniture to hurtle across the room.

A marble pedestal crashed into the cupboard Dhin and Sol were hiding behind, splintering the edge where he’d peeked over just a moment ago and slamming the heavy thing against them.

Dhin caught the brunt of the weight with his legs, saving Sol and the baby from being crushed against the wall. He gasped and coughed from the dust whirling around him as he pushed himself up to make sure they were all right.

Sol wheezed for breath. Blood covered one side of her face, but the crying baby seemed uninjured in her embrace. Seeing his look, she nodded and muttered. “I—I’m okay.”

Dhin nodded and scanned the room for a safe place. Seeing a large, oaken shelf in a corner of the room, he pulled at her. “Quick, this way! We need to get away.” While scrambling for the shelf with Sol in tow, he saw the appraiser run past him with a dagger in hand.

Ruby screamed from somewhere across the room. “Now!”

Dhin glanced over his shoulder, seeing that Ruby had flanked Raven and was now throwing her axe and dagger at the woman.

The appraiser simultaneously sent her dagger flying.

A handful of the ice spears changed direction midair to intercept the weapons Ruby had thrown, knocking them astray. The appraiser’s dagger, however, pierced the invisible wall around Raven and struck her shoulder before bouncing off.

The dagger never had time to hit the ground.

Raven spun around with a furious expression and flung it back with a gust of wind.

The last thing Dhin saw before diving behind the shelf with Sol in tow was the appraiser stumbling and gasping for breath with the dagger stuck in her own throat.

Dhin immediately pushed Sol into the corner. “Stay down.” He noticed his shirt and hands were slick with blood when he did, but didn’t feel anything but his heartbeat hammering in his chest. “I’ll clear a way for us.”

“Don’t!” Sol said and grabbed his arm. “Stay with me.”

“See that doorway over there?” He pointed at a back door blocked by debris and a large bench. “I can’t get rid of the stuff if I have to protect you and Eld, okay? I need to clear a way before we all end up in Melune’s pits.”

As if to accentuate his point, the cupboard they’d just stayed behind burst aflame with a roar, forcing both of them to shield their face against the heat.

As the heat ebbed, Sol reluctantly let him go, and leaned back against the wall to shield the baby. “Don’t die on me, Dhin. He needs his father.”

“I won’t, my sun. I promise,” Dhin said and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Hide now. And when I call, you run, okay? Run as if Melune’s ghasts are on your tail.”

When Dhin peeked around the shelf, he saw Raven standing above the dead appraiser. Her white clothes were drenched in blood from the wound in her shoulder, but she didn’t seem to care. Instead, she summoned a cloud of mist around Ruby by the opposite corner of the room, then turned her attention to the table and Algae’jed. “You knew the law and you broke it.”

“No!” Algae’jed protested and juggled flames to clash with the relentless assault of ice projectiles coming his way, each shriek ending in an explosion and sparks. “You blasted fool! I’ve unlocked power beyond your imagination.”

Dhin saw an opening and took it. He ran across the room and threw his weight against the bench, pushing it aside. It wasn’t as heavy as he’d expected, but debris caught it, making it difficult to move. He started clearing the ground. Sweat, born from panic and the ever increasing heat of the fire wall, stung his eyes and made his every move frantic.

An arrow whizzed through the air, fired by the old man hiding behind the banquet table.

Raven raised a hand and the whole building shook when a wall of sand grew from the floor to stop it. With another gesture, she redirected the sand-wall to barrel at the old man.

The old man threw his bow aside and went into a tumble to dodge the incoming wall, but he was too slow. The wave rolled over him and drowned him under its weight, the ordeal playing out eerily quiet under the constant noise of shrieks, explosions and baby screams.

Dhin saw the rumbling had cleared the debris enough to pull the door open. “It’s clear, Sol! Keep down and run for your life!”

“Why won’t you die, bitch?” Ruby roared as she emerged from the mist, shoulder down and blazing toward Raven.

At the same time, Sol pushed herself out of hiding and started for the exit. She let out a yelp of surprise as an errant ice spear struck the wall next to her, showering her in ice crystals.

“Hurry up, Goddess-damnit!” Dhin said and waved her on while holding the door open.

Ruby reached Raven and tackled into her, but was immediately knocked back and sent tumbling along the floor as if she’d run into a wall. Flames burst from her clothes with but a glance from Raven, turning her into a living torch, her final screams ending in a high-pitched wail.

Panic replaced Algae’jed’s previous look of confidence. He cast darting glances around the room while retreating from the approaching Raven. “Wait—Wait, I’ll stop it. We can collaborate. Yes, collab—” He flashed a winning smile when he saw Sol’s fleeing form, then yanked her into the air with a motion of his hand. “Stop it or she dies!”

“So?” Raven said and pointedly took another step. “She means nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

“Don’t you dare touch her Algae’jed!” Dhin screamed, the sight of his terrified wife making his blood boil in an instant. He let go of the door and ran at the elf. “May the ghast of Melune take you if you harm her!”

Raven took another step forward.

Algae’jed closed his eyes, just for an instant, then shot out with his arms. “Perish!” Tendrils of black sprouted from him, surging like thunderbolts all over the audience chamber. Whatever they struck, hissed and turned into black, volcanic glass.

Raven threw herself to the floor and made a downward gesture.

The blade of sweeping fire appeared in front of Dhin, making him shy back from the searing light, before it cut the elf from shoulder to groin. The body of the elf separated and fell on the table.

From one moment to the next, the surge of magic in the room vanished.

So did the power holding Sol in the air, Dhin realized. He spun around to see her—now a statue of volcanic glass with hands raised in defense—fall toward the floor, and his baby son just slipping out of her grip. “Eld!” Panic-induced adrenaline rushed through his muscles. He burst into motion and dove for his son. Just moments before hitting the ground, he caught the baby and turned his body to protect him as he went into a roll. Behind him, a loud crash sounded and splinters of dark stone pelted the room. A wave of relief washed over him when baby screams filled the air and he saw his son’s uninjured face. The respite was short-lived, however, as it slowly dawned on him what the stone splinters—each glinting in the faint sunlight like onyx gemstones—scattered across the room meant.

“No, no, no, no,” he rambled and looked around, seeing the remains of his beautiful wife strewn everywhere. He began sweeping his hand along the torn carpet he’d landed on in his tumble, trying to collect pieces of her. “No, no, Sol. No, not like this. You can’t be gone! Not—Not now.” Movement in the corner of his eyes drew his attention. He looked up to see Raven walking toward the door she’d come from. Other than her, everything was still. The others lay where she’d slain them, or so he thought. It was hard to tell in the uneven light coming through the fractured windows. Anger filled him. She’d come in here, killed everyone—and was responsible for Sol’s death—and now planned to leave without a word. He pushed himself up. “Stop it, witch!” he screamed over his son’s crying. “You did this to her. Come back and save her with your cursed magic!”

Raven appeared to hesitate for a moment, then turned to approach him. She looked around, tracing the pieces of Sol while walking, then focused her penetrating, light-blue eyes on him. They glowed with experience far surpassing the young, unblemished visage she carried. “Petrification, I could cure. Not this.”

“You must!” Dhin said. “Melune take you, you must! She wasn’t meant to be here.”

“I would, if I could,” Raven said and shook her head, her somber tone cutting deep like a knife.

“You must! Listen to me, damn it, you must,” he said. “Take me. Take me instead you wretched witch!”

“I cannot recreate life,” she said. “It doesn’t work like that.”

Her simple explanation drained him of the anger that kept him rigid, the air leaving his body when realizing she spoke the truth. He fell to his knees and burrowed his son—their son—in his chest. “No … you must … You—You must,” he sobbed. “You must save her. She didn’t deserve this. Take me instead. You must save her.” Through tear-filled eyes, the hollow promise of ever seeing his wife again haunted him—the sight of a fractured theater mask of darkened glass on top of a bloodstained carpet a vision he’d never forget. “You must save her, witch, I beg of you. By Narwá and the damned god Melune, why else would you be here?”

When no answer came, he looked up to find the woman called Raven gone—and with her, the hope of ever seeing his beloved sun again.