Kingdom of Ash

One of many changes to the Thirteen.
Manon blew out a breath, the wind tearing
away the hot puff.
“They’re out there,” Asterin murmured so
the others might not hear from where they
gathered by the overhanging boulder that
shielded them from the wind.
“Three camps,” Manon said with equal
quiet. “All long abandoned. We’re hunting
ghosts.”
Asterin’s gold hair ripped free of its braid,
blowing westward. Toward the homeland they
might very well never see. “The camps are
proof they’re flesh and blood. Ghislaine
thinks they might be from the late-summer
hunts.”
“They could also be from the wild men of
these mountains.” Though Manon knew they
weren’t. She’d hunted enough Crochans
during the past hundred years to spot their