CHAPTER 33

They had been too late.
Not just by an hour, or a day. No, judging
by the state of the bodies in the leaf-strewn
clearing twenty miles south, the week they
had been delayed had cost the Eyllwe war
band everything.
Morath had left the warriors where they
lay, a few red-caped Crochans—the ones who
had summoned their northern sisters here—
amongst the fallen. The smell of decay was
enough to make Manon’s eyes water as they
surveyed what had been left.
She had done this.