The first night in the barrens, they camped in the shelter of a dozen twenty-foot-tall stone pillars arranged in a semi-circle.

“What do you think they were used for?” Ellerie asked Bobo, gazing up at the nearest column. It was too evenly shaped to be natural, but there were no markings on it to suggest its purpose or origin.

“I have no idea. Shelter from the wind, or perhaps they were once part of a larger structure? The rear wall of an amphitheater?”

Corec was close enough to have overheard them. “Hildra said there were a lot of old ruins scattered around the barrens,” he called out from where he was casting mage lights around the camp. “No cities that she saw, but she hasn’t gone all the way through.”

Ellerie nodded. He’d already told her that, but Bobo hadn’t been part of the conversation.

“Interesting,” Bobo said. “I might do a bit of digging just to see if there’s anything else.”

“Not too close to the stones,” Ellerie warned. “Let’s not have one falling on the camp.”

“Indeed.” He headed for the wagon that held all their tools.

There was a flickering near Corec and then Leena suddenly appeared. She stumbled and he reached out to steady her. She was always a bit disoriented immediately after Traveling.

“Thank you,” she said to him, then swung her travel pack off her shoulder. “Fresh-baked bread and dried apples,” she told Ellerie. “I can go again if you want. I’m feeling fine, and most of the shops in Aencyr stay open late.”

“You’ve gone twice today already,” Ellerie said. Leena had brought back a large bag of oats for the horses during their midday break. “Maybe we should take it slow. The wagons are still full.” They’d filled the wagons with bales of hay, which were too big and heavy for Leena to carry, but they’d gone light on the rest of the supplies. Their plan was for Leena to supplement those supplies as the wagons’ loads grew lighter.

Marco had seen her arrive, and came over to join them. “Did you make it in time to cash in the letter of credit I gave you?” he said. He’d asked Leena to stop by the Senshall office while she was in Aencyr.

“I did.” She handed him a coin pouch. “I got there just before they closed the doors for the night.”

The man nodded, counting out the coins in his palm. “This’ll cover what we spent on the wagons. I had no idea that this Traveling was possible. How would you like to work for the Senshall Trading Company when we return to Aravor? We’re paying you four silver a day now. I can promise eight silver when we get back. You’d be stationed in Tyrsall, running messages and smaller packages to … wherever you can reach. I’ll even guarantee daily pay whether we have something for you that day or not.”

Leena hesitated, tilting her head to the side. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got some things to take care of first. Once that’s done, I’m not sure what will happen, but I’ll have duties in Sanvar for part of the year.” She glanced at Corec, then turned back to Marco. “If I have time, I’ll consider your suggestion.”

“Please do. We’d be happy to have you with us. I’m sure Varsin would agree.”

She nodded.

After Marco had wandered away, Ellerie raised an eyebrow. “Duties in Sanvar?” she asked.

“There are twelve Travelers serving the empress at all times, spread across the empire. My uncle, Rohav, usually serves for four months out of each year, but with so many Travelers dead, I should help too.”

“But you think you might work for Senshall the rest of the time? I mean, after we deal with those men?”

Leena looked at her curiously. “No; I was just being polite. If Corec needs help, I’ll do my best, but otherwise I should remain home with my brother. Besides, I know how much Travelers can charge for their work. It seems Marco does not.”

Ellerie nodded, an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of the Sanvari woman returning home. Impulsively, she made a decision.

“If we haven’t figured out how to deal with those men who attacked us by the time we find Tir Yadar, I’ll stick around until we do,” she said.

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Leena said. “It’s not your fight.”

“Corec thinks they’re after all of us, but even if they aren’t, I’ll still help. You’ve helped me, and I’ve already promised to help Corec figure out a way to deal with Prince Rusol. We’re stronger as a group.”

Leena nodded. They’d told her about the red-eyed men Rusol had sent after them. She’d already been familiar with the prince’s name from her time in Telfort.

Ellerie may have made the decision on an impulse, but the longer she thought about it, the more certain she was. These people had become her friends, and returning to Matagor while they were still in danger seemed wrong. What was in Matagor for her anyway, unless Boktar decided to go back? The only reason she’d been there was because it was a major center of learning … and because it wasn’t Terevas.

The big question would be what to do next after finding Tir Yadar. Or, perhaps, if they failed to find Tir Yadar. Corec wanted to return to Aravor and then go on to Four Roads, but Leena’s problems were more pressing. Ellerie suspected that Corec would do what he could to help Leena, but if the threat from Rusol continued, he might be pulled in another direction. Regardless of what happened, Ellerie resolved to accompany the Sanvari woman. She wanted to help them both, but if it came down to a choice, Leena needed the help more.

#

Treya leaned back against the tall stone column, staring out into the quiet night. She’d begun her journeying nearly a year ago and had grown accustomed to the sounds of the wilderness at night, but here, there weren’t even crickets to interrupt the silence. During the day, a few birds had flitted between the scrawny bushes that dotted the landscape, but they’d flown away once the sun dipped down below the horizon.

Treya was assigned to the first watch shift for the night, along with Razai, who was on the other side of the tents, and Josip, who was circling around the camp. Ever since the attack outside Tir Shar, Corec had assigned three people per watch shift, but he liked to switch the shifts and the partners around, claiming it was to keep everyone on their toes.

When Josip shuffled past during his next circuit around the camp, he nodded to Treya. He was rubbing his left hand and grimacing.

“What’s wrong?” she called out quietly, not wanting to wake the others.

He approached her. “It’s nothing. My knife slipped yesterday and I cut myself, and it’s bothering me a bit.”

Treya frowned and held out her hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’ve never been to a healer before. Never saw the need. Besides, they cost too much.” He showed her his hand, which had an ugly slice across the palm.

Treya sighed. Some people were superstitious about magic. She grabbed his wrist and examined him with her healing senses. “You know I don’t charge anything, and now you’ve waited too long. It’s gotten infected.”

“Infected?” He looked worried. “Can you do anything?”

“Of course.” She closed her eyes and focused her attention on killing the infection, then sealing up the injured flesh. It didn’t take long. She let go of him, opening her eyes. “There, it’s done. Go wash that off—soap and water.”

Josip stared down at his newly healed palm. “Thank you,” he said, flexing his fingers, then making a fist. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He looked up at her. “You’re … umm … you’re really pretty. Would you like to take a walk around the camp with me?”

Treya blinked in surprise, not sure how to respond. Josip stared at her sometimes—most men did—but she hadn’t expected him to ask to spend time together. He was twenty years older than her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That’s very sweet, but the oaths I took when I joined the Order of Mystics don’t allow that sort of thing.” She hated lying, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Would it be better to tell him that she simply wasn’t interested in him? What purpose would that serve other than to hurt him? It was unlikely Josip would realize she was lying. Even in Aravor, hardly anyone knew about the Order of Mystics, and he was from Cordaea. He wouldn’t have any way to know that mystics didn’t take oaths.

“Oh, uh, I guess I’ll go then. Sorry.” He turned and went back the way he’d come.

Treya winced. She’d handled the situation badly, but she wasn’t sure how to handle it well. For some reason, turning a man down wasn’t covered much in concubine training. Maybe that meant there wasn’t a good way. Concubines had it easier—the negotiations were always handled through the chapter house. Concubines had a limited right of refusal, but they didn’t have to refuse right to the man’s face. The negotiators could handle that for them.

Luckily, the problem hadn’t come up very often since she’d begun her journeying. Most men looked at her, but she’d grown accustomed to that and could ignore it. There hadn’t been any other incidents since she’d dealt with Des and Arnol shortly after she’d left Tyrsall for the first time.

There wasn’t really much opportunity for the situation to arise. She spent all her time traveling with the same group of people. Boktar wasn’t interested in women, Bobo would rather argue with her about politics, and Nedley, who was closest to her in age, was frightened of her.

It didn’t help that Treya had completed most of the Three Orders concubine training, and she couldn’t stop herself from evaluating any man she met through those eyes. Even if she had been interested in Josip, it would have been hard to take him seriously as a suitor. Marco might be acceptable to the Tyrsall chapter house—he held a high-ranking position within the Senshall Trading Company—but Treya was even less interested in him than she was in Josip.

Unfortunately, while she had a good idea of what she didn’t want, she wasn’t sure what she did want. Perhaps Shana was happy spending much of her time alone, but Treya preferred having friends and companionship. Did she want something more than companionship? After spending years pushing back against the idea of becoming a concubine, she’d assumed she’d never have a relationship, but Enna had proven it was possible.

Treya hated that her first instinct upon meeting a man was to judge his wealth and status. She’d grown up with the benefits of concubinage drilled into her head, but sometimes the entire concept seemed little more than an excuse for rich men to bed women other than their wives in a socially acceptable way. Certainly, concubines were trained in other skills that could improve their patrons’ lives, but it wasn’t as if those skills couldn’t be provided in some alternative way. The entire notion of concubines seemed outdated and wrong, and yet, underneath it all, the idea was still somehow exciting and romantic. Not that Treya would ever admit that to Renny.

But what did it all mean? Treya had done her best to push all thoughts of men and relationships aside when she’d chosen to become a mystic, but was that really what she wanted? If everything went well, she hoped to stop traveling soon. Perhaps it was time to seriously consider her future.

#

“Have you decided on Four Roads for sure?” Sarette asked.

She and Corec were walking together as rearguard at the tail end of the column, scarves covering their mouths and noses to block the dust being raised by the rest of the group. Directly ahead of them, Nedley was leading seven of the horses, all loaded down with too much gear for anyone to ride them. The other six horses were helping the mules pull the wagons, which were being driven by Razai, Bobo, and Marco. Boktar and Josip were at the head of the group, serving as the forward guard.

“It seems like the best choice, at least for now,” Corec said. “But I’ve been doing some thinking. When I bonded Leena, I didn’t ask her for anything in return. You’re the only person I insisted had to come along, and I shouldn’t have. When we get back to Aravor, if you want to return to Snow Crown, you can. You don’t have to go to Four Roads with us.”

It took Sarette a moment to connect all the pieces. She and Corec fought well together, but outside of fights and sparring sessions, there’d always been some distance between them, and now she realized why. “You’re worried about our agreement?” she asked. “It’s always seemed fair to me.”

“Fair or not, you shouldn’t be the only person forced to stay with us. The others are here because they want to be. Except for Leena, but I’m hoping she’ll stay until we figure out how to deal with those men who came after us.”

“I don’t feel like I’m being forced to be here,” Sarette said. “Leena’s a special case. My people aren’t being hunted down, and they don’t need me back right away. I’ll have to go someday, but, to be honest, I’m not sure I want to. The stormrunners kicked me out; the High Guard kicked me out. And now that they want me back, it’s not because of anything I did. It’s just because of the warden bond, and I’m not sure they’re the ones who should benefit from that.”

“I’m not trying to push you into leaving,” Corec assured her. “If you want to come with us, we’d be happy to have you along. I just didn’t know if you were happy here. I know you miss your family.”

“I do,” she admitted, “but I’ll see them again. How long does it take to get from Four Roads to Snow Crown?”

“I suppose the fastest route would be to take the Farm Road up to the northern plains and then go east. I don’t know what the roads are like up there, though. Maybe twenty, twenty-five days by horse?”

It would be a lot of traveling, but nothing compared to what they’d done so far. She could schedule her trips for the more pleasant months.

“Then let’s go to Four Roads first,” she said. “Maybe I’ll visit home after that, but I don’t want to leave if you might be attacked by those red-eyes again.”

Corec nodded. “At first, I thought we should deal with Rusol before stopping and staying in one location, but Katrin suggested just finding a place west of town. That way, if he sends more red-eyes, or even soldiers, they’d reach us before they reach Four Roads. I think she’s right. It’s better to make ourselves into a target than someone else. None of us want what happened in Jol’s Brook to happen again.”

Sarette knew what he meant. She still had nightmares about finding the dead, frozen bodies in the village. Even if the red-eyed men were victims of whatever demonic magic Prince Rusol was using, they had to be stopped. Nedley was so painfully eager to be helpful, it was hard to think of him as a red-eye, but before Treya had healed him, he’d been just as much of a merciless killer as the rest of them.

“What about the towns between Larso and Four Roads?” Sarette asked.

Corec sighed. “I’m hoping the red-eyes only attacked Jol’s Brook because they knew that’s where we were headed. If we can stay in one spot, they’ll have to come to us, and maybe they won’t attack anyone else.”

Sarette nodded. “It’s a good idea. I’ll stick around for as long as you need me. I can wait to visit home until we’re sure it’s safe.”

“Thank you,” Corec said. “I’ll admit, that’s a relief. You’re the only other trained soldier besides me.”

“What about Boktar?”

“I haven’t talked to him about it yet. I imagine he’ll go wherever Ellerie goes. She’s offered to help us out, but I don’t know if that would be from Four Roads or from Matagor.”

“What is Four Roads like?” Sarette asked. “I’ve never lived anywhere other than Snow Crown. Even when I was in the High Guard, the patrols rotated back to the city regularly.”

“It’s like any other town in the free lands, I suppose,” he said. “Mostly farming with a bit of ranching and mining. It’s a lot smaller than Snow Crown, about thirty thousand people. They’re a bit like the plainsmen we ran into west of the Storm Heights—very independent. They’ve got to be. There’s no government larger than a town council, so each town has to take care of itself.”

“And that’s where you want to live?” Sarette asked doubtfully.

He chuckled. “I’m not used to big cities. I grew up in Tarwen Village, which is tiny. Even Fort Hightower, where I trained with the knights, is smaller than Four Roads.”

“Still, it sounds like an odd place. Lonely, to not be able to depend on your neighbors.”

“It’s not that bad. The people in the free lands mostly come from Larso and Tyrsall, both of which have their own problems. And some are from Matagor, I suppose. Matagor actually built some of the major trade roads in the area, but when the dragon took over their keep and destroyed the toll bridge, they abandoned it all. I guess they decided it wasn’t worth building new roads that bypassed the dragon’s territory.”

There was a commotion ahead of them and the wagons slowed to a stop. “Whoa!” Nedley said, stopping his string of horses.

After checking to make sure there weren’t any threats on the horizon, Sarette and Corec approached the front of the column, where everyone was gathering around Boktar.

“Josip found a river just up ahead of us,” the dwarven man said, pointing to a streak of green growth to the east. The sound of rushing water could just barely be heard in the distance. “And I don’t like the look of those clouds. Is that a thunderstorm? It seems a little early in the year for that.”

Dark, heavy clouds were approaching from the northeast. Sarette took a deep breath. There was the scent of an oncoming storm in the air. The barrens were the complete opposite of the Storm Heights, but something about them reminded her of home.

“Yes, it’s thunder,” she said. She didn’t need to check her weather sense. The air just felt right.

Boktar grunted. “Elle, how do you feel about stopping early? We’ve got water here, and I don’t see any reason to spend the next few hours getting wet just to get a few more miles in.”

“Stopping sounds good to me,” Ellerie replied.

“All right, let’s get the camp set up.”

“Wait!” Shavala said unexpectedly. The elven woman rarely spoke up when the whole group was together. “Aren’t we too close to the river?”

“What do you mean?” Boktar asked.

With Hildra’s warning about flooding, the group had been careful to stay a hundred feet away from any creeks or riverbeds except when they were watering the animals or filling their own waterskins.

“Look at the patterns in the dirt.” There was a series of wavy, graduated lines in the earth, running parallel to the river. “We need to be higher, or farther away.”

Boktar frowned. “You mean flooding? It can’t reach this far, can it?”

“The land is very flat,” Shavala said. “Once the water rises over the banks, it can come far. The storm is heavy and the soil is packed too hard to absorb the moisture.”

Corec looked to the northwest. “The ground is higher over that way.”

“Let’s hurry,” Boktar said.

Everyone rushed to get the animals and wagons farther from the river. The spot Corec had found turned out to be a gently sloping hill with a pile of boulders stacked up on its northern side. It was over two hundred yards from the river, and the wavy lines in the dirt had gradually faded as they’d approached it.

Sarette helped Corec check the wagons to make sure the waxed canvas coverings were in place, then she stood facing the clouds. As the others assembled the camp behind her, she embraced her weather sense, letting the feel of the storm flood into her body. It was approaching fast, but before it could reach them, there was a sudden loud roar from the north. A rushing wave of water crashed over the land, flooding the banks of the river.

Everyone paused what they were doing to stare, stunned into silence. The new edge of the river couldn’t have been more than fifty feet away. It may have only been an inch or two deep there, but the flooding had seemed to come out of nowhere, happening faster than they’d imagined.

A flash of lightning and a booming crash of thunder reminded everyone of the storm.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Boktar exclaimed. “There are no trees or high ground for the lightning to hit. Nedley, help me get this armor off! Yours too!”

Corec quickly shed the brigandine armor he’d purchased in Aencyr, then added his sword to the pile.

Sarette left her own armor on. Lightning didn’t worry her.

“Will the wagons be a problem?” Ellerie asked. “They’re tall—will they attract lightning?”

Boktar frowned, still unstrapping his breastplate. “I’m not sure. Most of the metal in them is lower down. I’m more worried about the horses, but those boulders are tall. Maybe that’ll be enough to protect everything.”

Another lightning strike was coming. Sarette didn’t have time to warn her friends about what she was going to do. She hefted her staff-spear and ran toward the storm. Just as the blast was about to hit, she leapt up, meeting it in midair. The power filled her and charged her staff, blue and white light crackling up and down the length of the weapon.

She landed fifty feet away, splashing into the shallow flooding water. It was the farthest she’d ever jumped. The last time she’d tried actually using the abilities the storm magic gave her had been shortly after Corec had cast the binding spell on her, but she’d had months of practice since then. She could feel the power surging through her.

She held her spear up, preparing to pull any other nearby lightning strikes her way rather than risk them hitting her friends. When she faced the camp, she found Shavala standing between her and the rest of the group, staring up at the sky. Instead of pushing the lightning bolts away from the others, like she had that day in the South Valley ruins, the elven woman was trying to redistribute the charge in the air and stop the lightning completely. It was an impossible task for a storm this large, but perhaps she’d be able to protect the camp.

Sarette could have helped her, reinforcing what Shavala was attempting, but she thought it best to keep doing what she was doing. The charge was building up again in the sky above her, and she called out to it, providing an opposing charge through her spear. All of her hair stood up on end for a split second before lightning struck again with a searing crack, arcing into her weapon, then her body.

It was more power than she’d ever held before. Could she do it? She’d spent four years learning the theoretical fundamentals of stormrunning, but she’d never been able to put that knowledge to use before. There was no Runner’s Summit here, no mountain to leap from, but that was merely an aid, not a requirement. She made a running start through the shallow water, extending her opposing charge from the blade of her spear to cover her entire body.

As soon as she reached dry land, she jumped. This time, she didn’t land. She flew into the air just as the rain reached her, the storm welcoming her as part of it.

The power she was holding drained far more quickly than she was expecting, but just as she thought it would run out, another lightning bolt struck her. The additional rush was enough to push her up to the lowest level of cloud cover.

There, the swirling chaos of the storm grew more intense, her weather sense almost overwhelmed with information. There was a mix of different charges swirling throughout the clouds, fighting against each other and the ground. Sarette hovered in the air, extending her arms out wide as she directed the two opposing charges to either side of her body.

Now, rather than wait for lightning to strike, she could force it to form early and in smaller bolts, creating a balance as she simultaneously drained the power of the storm and then redistributed that energy back into it. Flashes of light danced between the clouds, the lightning no longer being directed toward the ground.

Sarette laughed in exhilaration. After all this time, she was finally flying a storm.

She attempted one of the swooping maneuvers Vartus had taught her, ducking below cloud level and then back up again, but had to close her eyes when a wave of dizziness set in. Once she recovered, she tried it again, this time with more success.

She grinned wildly as she flew, carefully avoiding the area just over the camp where Shavala had been realigning the charges. It wouldn’t do to end up in a spot where she couldn’t replenish her power.

The lightning was focused at the front edge of the storm. Sarette followed it until it was past the camp. She was tempted to fly the storm farther but she was already feeling the warning signs of drain shock. It was time to land. Vartus and the other stormrunners had been insistent about that. If a stormrunner lost consciousness while flying, there was nothing that could be done about it but to retrieve whatever remained of their body from wherever it had fallen to the ground.

As Sarette dropped below the cloud cover, and the power she held began draining out of her once more, she had a sudden worrying thought. All of her training had been on the theory only, because she wasn’t strong enough to practice any of it. How was she going to land?