style of making fires, their neat little camps.
All the Thirteen had. And they’d all tracked
and killed so many of the wild men of the
White Fangs earlier this year on Erawan’s
behalf that they knew their habits, too.
Asterin’s gold-flecked black eyes fell on
that blurred horizon. “We’ll find them.”
Soon. They had to find at least some of the
Crochans soon. Manon knew they had
methods of communicating, scattered as they
were. Ways to get out a call for help. A call
for aid.
Time was not on their side. It had been
nearly two months since that day on the beach
in Eyllwe. Since she’d learned the terrible
cost the Queen of Terrasen must pay to put an
end to this madness. The cost that another
with Mala’s bloodline might also pay, if need
be.
Manon resisted the urge to glance over her
lily
(lily)
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