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I glance over to Caleb to find him smirking at me. “So there’s some use for capes, I guess.”

“My lord,” the head guard begins, addressing Tennet, who’s by far the most lordly of all of us. “If you and your party will follow.”

Tennet, however, doesn’t respond at first, and I turn to see him peering hard at the thick knot of forest punching down from the mountains, scrambling along the rocky terrain about a quarter hour’s ride from the Eighth House. “What’s over there?” he gestures. “Who do you have watching us?”

The guard turns, scowls. “We’ve positioned no one there, Lord Tennet. Doesn’t mean there aren’t hunters or worse in the forest, though, and if any saw your brace of Divhs the way we did from the Eighth, they’d be curious.”

“Hunters,” I murmur, and I squint as well, wondering if we’re being watched by the Savasci.

Syril and her band made no secret to me about their unsanctioned home near the grand Eighth House, but how exactly did that work in practice?

Lord Daggar clearly isn’t a fool, and the Eighth House looks well-fortified.

It wouldn’t be all that hard to assemble a troop of soldiers whose only job was to rout out the marauders from their nest and either return them to the Eighth or disperse them.

But disperse them to where? Unlike the First House, there’s no village here at the base of the mountains that I can locate, just the walled fortress. I peer along the mountain range, but the terrain is too jagged for me to see far.

Tennet seems to be tracking my thoughts. “You’ve a village nearby, then, outside the walls of the Eighth?” he asks, gesturing to the fortress. “If there are hunters not affiliated with your house, they have to get their supplies from somewhere.”

“There is.” The guard gives up the information easier than the mountain will.

“The village of Merrivale is a hard day’s ride along the Meridians to there, where the range bumps out.

” He gestures to the north, where I can easily see the bulging curve of the range—dark green in the afternoon sunlight.

“The forest along the path hides a wealth of natural caves. It makes for easy lodging for those not looking for the protection of the Eighth or the rule of the village magistrate. But as long as you ride farther away from the forest, out into the plains, it’s a safe enough journey.

The hunters, for the most part, are simply that—men looking for game to feed their family or to sell in the village.

But for anyone willing to get their food honorably, there are others happy to steal it.

Lord Daggar keeps his own safe, but if you choose to roam the forest, you take what chances you must.”

Tennet grunts a short laugh. “Then things aren’t so different here as they are anywhere in the Protectorate.”

He nods to the guard who turns and shouts orders to his men, while the four of us fall into line behind him.

The men form a loose net around us, not close enough to keep any of us from breaking away if we chose, but an official protective escort.

I glance back to the mountains. If the Savasci are out there watching, how much did they see?

I hadn’t thought about the message the arrival of so many Divhs might send.

Would they guess I was here, marking Fortiss and his bold colors as a party of the First House? Would they know why we’re here?

The forest isn’t willing to give up its secrets yet, so we strike out across the open plains toward the Eighth House.

As we near it, the guards angle to the right, closer to the heavy canopy of trees, until we reach an established road with low stone walls to either side, deep troughs flanking it.

The road rises gradually toward the Eighth House, which I realize as we approach is elevated higher against the mountainous cliffs than I first though.

It’s an impressive fortress, about half the size of the First House, but easily three times as big as the modest manor house of the Tenth.

How does it compare to the Twelfth? I frown as the errant thought skates through my mind.

Tennet’s home is buried even deeper in the mountains than mine is, hemmed in by thick forest and rocky terrain.

Does he yearn for a larger holding—more power?

Or is he content to serve as sentinel for the Protectorate, casting a wary eye in all directions?

“Lady Talia.” Nazar’s quiet voice, little more than a sigh, draws my attention, and he nods almost casually to the right. I squint up into the trees, not seeing what he’s clearly trying to point out…and then I do, as a fluttering shift of movement against the darker branches draws my eye.

Three of the hummerlets are perched there, squinting down at me with an inquisitive tilt to their heads. They all appear far too satisfied with themselves—and one of them is displaying a belly that’s full-on glowing in the shadows of the branches.

“But…” I glance back at Nazar, startled, and his grimace tells me everything I need to know.

“It appears Kreya is concerned for our safety and has left her sentinels behind. And it appears these particular sentinels offer more than just eyes to help us see. A warrior takes the gifts he is given, and fashions them for war.”