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Two days later, Hauke stood nervously outside the gates, watching a snake of flame formed of countless soldiers carrying torches wind its way up the narrow road to the Frost Walker’s icy fortress.

When he first noticed the powerful energy of Lady Nyrielle and her forces entering the High Pass, he’d expected that she would make rapid progress through the pass, the same way she had during her previous visit.

He’d known she was coming and that she should be arriving soon.

Both Lady Nyrielle and Lady Ashlynn had made it clear that they intended to return to the Vale of Mists before the winter snows sealed the pass to all but the most experienced winter travelers.

He’d even been counting the days, trying to estimate how close they were to arriving and growing increasingly anxious that they wouldn’t arrive before the winter snows.

Now that they were almost here, his heart had been filled to bursting with eagerness to see his friends again.

Part of that eagerness came from a simple joy at a reunion with friends, and part of it came from a desire to show Lady Ashlynn and Lady Heila how much he had learned since they left.

But underneath that, there was a question that had crystalized so deeply in his heart that he dared not speak of it to anyone but Lady Ashlynn herself.

And now, he was only a day away from being able to ask. ..

A day later, however, they were surprised when a messenger arrived to arrange lodging, not for Nyrielle’s small personal escort, but for an entire army more than a thousand warriors strong!

Just hearing the size of the army shocked the elders and even Lord Ritchel shifted uncomfortably on his icy throne when he heard the number, but the list of very important guests traveling with Lady Nyrielle was even more shocking.

"Quite the sight, isn’t it son?" Lord Ritchel said without taking his eyes off the approaching army.

Last time, Lady Nyrielle traveled as the Eldritch Lady of the Vale of Mists, and sending Hauke to greet her new Seneschal felt measured and appropriate.

This time, however, it seemed like much had changed, and Nyrielle marched under the banner of the Harbinger of Death rather than the Vale of Mists.

Some people might not understand the distinction, but combined with an army and its followers numbering in the thousands, Ritchel couldn’t afford to ignore the implied meaning.

Last time, they had met as peers and allies until Elder Paulus’s treacherous actions forced her to assert her authority.

This time, she left nothing to doubt from the very beginning and he could only lower his horn and personally greet her when she arrived at his fortress.

"The messenger said that Lady Heila became a witch," Hauke said, smiling crookedly as complex feelings rippled across his face. He was delighted to hear that his diminutive friend had earned the chance to join Lady Ashlynn’s coven, and even more excited when the messenger mentioned that she’d stood for ten days in the Arena in the High Fen, facing increasingly powerful opponents every day.

When he heard that she’d done so using a blade carved from Elder Paulus’s horn, however, and that many people in High Fen City praised not only the power of the witch, but the power of her weapon, it was hard to feel as proud as he had just moments earlier.

Already, the council had begun to argue about what they should do if more hunters came to the High Pass, targeting the small clan for the power of their horns.

"Is that the part that has you fidgeting?

" Ritchel asked his son quietly as they watched the army grow closer.

Out of respect for the environment and the risk of causing an avalanche, there were no drums beating to herald their arrival, but the creak of hundreds of wagon axels and the sound of thousands of feet marching were hard to ignore, particularly when some of those footsteps were much louder than their peers.

High above the clouds, the light of the moon and stars reflected off the blanket of pure, white snow that covered the mountains, making anything moving through the pass stand out like a dark stain on perfect linens.

The shapes of horse-drawn carriages and wagons were common enough, even if the number of them seemed shockingly large.

At this distance, it was impossible to tell the difference between the slightly hunched figures of the Golden Eyed Clan who were known to run as fast as horses when crouched low to the ground or the similarly sized figures of the Glass Eyed clan who might be marching next to them.

There was one group, however, who towered so high above everyone else in the approaching army that it was impossible to mistake their tusked silhouettes for anything else.

"Or are you worried about the Tuscan mercenaries that Lady Heila has taken into her service?" Ritchel said pointedly, turning away from the army to meet his son’s pensive gaze.

"Why would she accept them?" Hauke asked, his voice cracking. His hands tightened into fists and his horn swirled with dim shades of purple and azure. If he’d known what he knew now, if he’d actually been able to fight back against the Tuscans instead of cowering behind his icy shields and guarding Heila, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much but. ..

The memory of giant shadows looming over him as he desperately tried to protect Ashlynn flashed through his mind, bringing with it the metallic scent of blood and the terrible crack of ice breaking beneath their feet.

His horn dimmed and turned a pale white as a wave of cold anger replaced his initial shock and the overwhelming sense of shame.

"I understand they were bound to enter her service if she defeated them in the arena," he continued, in an even tone that felt as brittle as thin ice.

"But she didn’t have to accept them. She could have sent them away, or directed them to fight the very hunters that threaten our home.

" He turned to meet his father’s gaze, his eyes reflecting the betrayal he felt.

"After what they did to Andrus, after what they tried to do to us.

.. why did she have to bring them with her? "