SAELYNAArgell's place is lit up with sticks of fire hung around on the walls at strategic positions. Argell sits in his high chair ahead, while Caivan sits at a smaller one by his side, Veesa occupies her rocking chair still knitting, Jenna and Haron sit next to each other at the table. Cyran nudges me before I begin walking, slowly, towards the table. They were talking before we came in, and as soon as we sit, Argell continues like nothing happened. 'And the network?' he asks Caivan. 'I haven't heard from them', he says, 'It would seem they are compromised. The shot was taken, not only at Xanwed, but at Lionel'. I hear Cyran let out a breath beside me, and I hold mine briefly. The Lord of Tussel was murdered. I can't or don't want to think about what that would mean for the south, with Tussel being one of the largest cities in Quindar. Caivan certainly makes it seem graver than I can imagine. 'The deer is wily. I wager

CYRANIt's very disorienting, not to mention unusual and bad manners, the way they all stare at me. Argell and Caivan both have askant looks, Jenna, beside me, peers like she's seen me for the first time (or maybe she is, she had her eyes only for Saelyna when Veesa had introduced us), Veesa has worn that calculative frown, and Saelyna…Well, she's staring as well. I just wish they'd all stop.Haron sits up; he's the only one who's not been gaping, even though he's opposite me; and he leans forward. 'I suspect you haven't had these…visions for a very long time. Otherwise, Saelyna here would have noticed', he says gently, holding me with feeble eyes. 'Uh…' I'm not comfortable talking about stuff like this, not here, not now. I have just come out of a trance, I'm sure what I had said was horrible, maybe, but right now I just want to get out of this dark place. 'And you see us…losing. Again', Caivan says. I don't reply him. I'm still figuring out his deal. 'Just another thing to worry abo

SAELYNAI don't trust myself to speak. I'm too jittery at the moment (actually I've been so for a very long while now, since the "meeting" had been called).It's Halden all over again. It's like a sickness, this fear, this haunting memory that follows me everywhere I go, that emerges like a pest at the first jolt. It hadn't been there before, not until that night with the mages. Not until I was almost certain death was near.We reach the hospice and I lock the door with shaky hands as Cyran drops Caivan on a bed. I blink thrice to adjust my view in the darkness but Cyran is already ahead of me; he finds a jar of fireflies and shakes them awake. 'Where's Haron?' he asks, casting quick glances around the empty hall. I hadn't noticed the old man slip away when we got to the hall. Neither had I noticed the pair of eyes peeking out at me from under the bed to my left. Blue eyes.'Fuck!' I curse aloud, and hold up my hands, ready to draw on the iden, ready to fire at will when the person sp

CAIVANI've never felt more grateful for the blast of cool air on my face when I step outside, though I might have to worry about the clouds gathering overhead. There is no wolf around, no immediate threat. So I head for the one place I might actually get more solitude.I don't remain alone for long. Someone approaches, out of sight and as quiet as wolven can be. I don't need to smell him to know it's Gylen. A sight for sore eyes.He pauses at the mouth of the "cave", squinting into the darkness. 'I'm not a Leftyde wight, if that's what bothers you', I call out and he grins. 'I suppose not', he says and climbs over a rock to get to where I sit in the corner, 'I hope to hide out here awhile, if it's okay with you. I can't go on a bloody hunt with Argell tonight'.He's bare, save for a knicker that looks like it came off anyone, and looks way too tight on him. Claw marks line his torso here and there, but I can tell they're already healing as he sits next to me, heaving a breath. 'How a

RONNAllos circles back to me, his face scrunched up at the sight of guts at my feet. 'You're gonna clean that?' he says. 'That's Sirgil', I reply, recalling the brutal bout the duo had minutes ago. The winter creature had certainly been a handful, but the thing with Sirgil is his craftiness, his stealth. It was relatively easy to avoid his opponent's blow and slash at his trunk and sternum. I hadn't been there, but it plays out in my head from his memory.'You bonded with one of the wolves'. It sounds more like an accusation than a question and I bristle at his tone. 'I did what I had to do', I snap. He nods quietly with an askant look. 'Sure you did'. He turns then, without catching glimpse of the evil look I throw his way. 'So what now?'As if to answer his question, a wolf with white fur, way larger than the others, streaks out from the undergrowth. I barely have time to react; Allos is slower. The winter wolf buries his claws in his chest, snarling as he does it.Then it turns an