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My fingers twitched. I was being ridiculous. Stillness was the only sound of the shore. There were no ships on the horizon. No threats. I was overreacting because of my boy and the other young faces in the watch tonight.

Half a dozen sons and daughters of nobles and warriors were strapped with short blades and daggers. Their bony limbs barely able to hold the blade for longer than a dozen swings. The eldest hadn’t reached fifteen, but other than my own son, the youngest was the one who had me most concerned.

Prince Aleksi kept pace on his black gelding alongside Aesir and Laila.

The boy wasn’t yet twelve, but was built like he had a turn on Aesir. Alek was a forest fae abandoned by the Southern clans at his first breaths, found during the battles of the East, but he looked as Night Folk as the rest of us. Dark hair shaved on the sides like most of the young ones his age. Sun toasted brown skin like our clan, but his strange bronze eyes were the only hint that he might have different fae blood.

The prince had practically crawled to my feet, pleading to take him on the patrols. After I’d heartily pointed out to Sol how much his son valued my approval, I’d agreed, on the condition the prince was joined by his fathers.

One of whom caught my gaze, and frowned at once.

Damn Torsten. We’d spent too many bleeding turns in close proximity; he knew what each flinch of my face meant.

I turned forward again. As expected, five breaths later, a pearl stallion rode to my side.

“What is it?” Tor grumbled. The man was still a bear who grunted and groused, even with his consort, even with fatherhood, even with peace all this time.

I swatted at him. “Nothing, you fiend. Get back, this is my patrol to lead. You’re here to watch your sapling, nothing more.”

“Hal,” he said. “We’re Shade. I know when something troubles you.”

The Guild of Shade never truly died, I supposed. We did not spend our days chasing the Blood Wraith, but there was a rooted sense of kinship among those of us who had. Stieg and Junius included.

I let out a sigh. “Sometimes I wish you’d learn to be oblivious.”

“Think of all the times you’d have lost your head if I had,” Tor said.

“I take offense, Torsten. I have impeccable instincts, and I’ll have you take note, those who’ve tried to kill me thus far have utterly failed.”

He rolled his eyes and looked down the shoreline. “Your hand has not left the hilt of your blade for half a clock toll.”

Damn his observant eyes. Despite calling attention to the grip on my seax, I didn’t remove it. There was a heat in the air. One that settled like heavy stones in my belly.

“Just the rumblings of the gut, Tor,” I told him. “Puts me on edge. No doubt we’ll be descending on dock squabbles, nothing more.”

I tilted my head toward the faint light of the dock houses where shippers, merchants, and fishermen slept before early hour journeys to the coves, or late-night arrivals from sea hauls.

“I’ve felt it, Hal. The feeling something is changing.” Torsten scanned the gentle sea before facing me. “Sol too. He even wrote to Cal about it a few nights ago.”

My brows raised. The Sun Prince had practically taken the woman on as a second sister, but to mention any hint of disquiet meant Sol had reached a breaking point.

Calista knew as well as the rest of us that unfinished games were still in play, hungry for more blood, but Sol rarely took it upon himself to remind her. Not when she’d struggled to find her fate words these last months.

Calista had a fierce need to protect us all, even if she’d never admit it. She’d want to write a tale for Sol, and he knew it. If he wrote her, knowing she would feel unease at being unable to aidhisunease, then trouble was in the blood.

I focused on the shore. Nothing but night and pebbled sand was around us. One house near the approaching docks was alight with a few flickering lanterns. The rest were dark and sleeping.

“Keep sharp,” I told Tor, “that’s all I have for you.”

He wasn’t a man of many words. Didn’t need to be. With a curt nod, Tor subtly began tightening the protections around the youngest among us.

The young ones didn’t even notice, but Laila took note. Trained to have a brilliant eye, the princess naturally followed her uncle and took an outer flank. Mattis and Stieg kept their grins as the warrior youth chattered on about nothing, but both men had fought in our early wars. They knew the subtle signals when tensions were high. Both shifted hands to their blades, ready to strike should it be needed.

I caught Sol’s narrowed expression. We’d been friends since childhood; he knew me as well as Tor. With tight lips, he flicked the snap off his sword sheath.

On the border of the dock houses, I held up a fist, halting the patrol. Jests and taunts and songs silenced at once.

On the end of one dock, an iron approach bell tinged as the wind tossed the rope and clapper against the sides.