Page 195 of The Shadow Wand

They both grow quiet as fireflies begin to light the skies, the gem-like tones of sunset brushed across the eastern sky, a soft crimson rune haze settling over the city.

“The Gardnerians are going to come after these lands,” Ysilldir says, her voice thick with a foreboding that mirrors that of Wynter’s owls.

Wynter looks to the sky, able to make out the glimmering edges of the multitude of huge garnet runes that are imprinted on the city’s nearly invisible dome-shield. “They won’t be able to get through the runic shield,” Wynter says.

“Then they’ll choke us off,” Ysilldir counters, frowning at the Spine. “No trade. No way to get out. All of us imprisoned in the Caledonian Mountains.” She fixes her eyes on Wynter’s. “Until Vogel finds a way in.”

A way past Amaz runes.

A shudder passes through Wynter in response to the horrifying idea.

“Vogel is growing in power,” Wynter reluctantly concedes, the thought like a crushing, submerging wave. “The things my wingeds show me, they are...unfathomable.” Wynter holds Ysillder’s silver gaze. “His power is lapping at the edge of the natural world.”

Ysilldir throws Wynter a significant look. “And soon he’ll be lapping at the edge of our minds.”

Apprehension mounts inside Wynter. “But...a piece of our minds is our own.”

“What if he finds a way in and we lose that piece?” Ysilldir shakes her head, the rows of metallic hoops pierced through her pointed ears catching the city’s scarlet rune light. “Wynter Eirllyn, I have been loyal to the Amaz ever since I came here five years ago. And I haveneverbroken with their ways.” Her white brow furrows tighter. “But this time, I fear our queen is wrong. We need to find the rune sorcerer Rivyr’el Talonir. We need his help to break the Zalyn’or hold. Even if he is male.”

There’s a rustle in the trees and Wynter looks up, flocks of sparrows and starlings and countless other wingeds zooming down to land in thick rows on the tree limbs all around them, the birds’ incoming message gaining strength.

Warning. Warning. Warning.

The Shadow Thing is coming.

It’s coming. It’s coming.

It’s here.

Images flood Wynter’s mind, of a Shadow touching down on the wilds, all around the corners of things. Poised to slither its corruption deep into the natural world and subsume the elements that flow through it.

Hurry up, Elloren, Wynter agonizes as her sense of urgency mounts.Hurry up and come into your power before Vogel finds you.

She looks to the jagged peaks of the Spine.

The Shadow is coming for you, Elloren, Wynter thinks as she sends out a message with her flock of birds.

Warn her,she charges them, pushing against their reflexive protest and fear of the Black Witch.

You’re wrong about her,Wynter doggedly insists. You’re wrong. So, find her and warn her.

Tell her that the Shadow is here.

CHAPTER TWO

SHUNNED

RHYSINDOR THORIM

Sixth Month

Alfsigroth

Rhys Thorim’s whole body is alive with pain. He glances down at the streaks of livid scarlet blood slashed across his frost-white Alfsigr clothing, his vision blurred and crackling with stars from so many blows. Bright rays of sunlight flash against his eyes.

Alfsigr soldiers in gleaming silver armor impassively stand by holding bone-white runic whips, ready to strike again at the command of the Alfsigroth monarch, Iolrath Talonir.

Rhys pulls in a shuddering breath, the outdoor air startlingly sweet after being trapped in a prison cell for so many weeks, only their royal lineage dragging out the verdict’s final resolution.

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