Kingdom of Ash

snows near-blinding.
Lingering was unwise. They’d survived
these months with strength and wits. For
while they’d hunted for the Crochans, they’d
been hunted themselves. Yellowlegs and
Bluebloods, mostly. All scouting patrols.
Manon had given the order not to engage,
not to kill. A missing Ironteeth patrol would
only pinpoint their location. Though Dorian
could have snapped their necks without lifting
a finger.
It was a pity he hadn’t been born a witch.
But she’d gladly accept such a lethal ally. So
would the Thirteen.
“What will you say,” Asterin mused,
“when we find the Crochans?”
Manon had considered it over and over. If
the Crochans would know who Lothian
Blackbeak was, that she had loved Manon’s
father—a rare-born Crochan Prince. That her