But I did not glimpse the hatred I'd expected. They merely watched, mildly interested.
Sometimes it was easy to forget that nobles mattered little to the average person. Kings were faraway thoughts in faraway places.
The Muirashin lord who owned this land had left them to die.
A wooden fence wrapped the southern border of the village. A guard stood watch beside its gate, though he didn't look like much. Old chainmail hung under his leather vest, but nothing more.
He was practically unarmored.
Seeing Bláth behind me, he shot to his feet and unlocked the gates, pushing them open for us. Nodding at him, I rode toward the gloom.
I stopped halfway between the town limits and the walls. Bláth leaned forward. "Well?"
A heavy weight formed in my gut and pulled me down. I saw them: shapes moving behind the shadows, like a school of fish churning the waves of the sea.
Humming trembled across the earth, faint, almost inaudible.
Those eyeless dragons: singing, far in the distance.
“Saints," Ferris breathed, eyes darting around the shadows. "It's like the Shadowlands themselves are alive."
"Then we don't have much time." Bláth touched my arm. "At least we have two Paragons here."
The Solheart watched me expectantly. She wanted me to turn my elk around, to ride back. Ferris did the same, pulling his reins to return.
The lead ball in my stomach felt like it ripped free of my skin, and my voice slid out with it. "I'm no help. I can't even use magic."
Ferris whipped around. "Liam said you found your catalyst."
My little brother was covering for me, concealing my disgrace from the royal among us.
Maybe he wasn't all bad.
Bláth eyed me. Golden beacons dug into my skin, seeing past the surface. She nodded and slipped off my elk. "Do you have any idea what your catalyst might be?"
Her voice was warm, gentle. Prodding, like a teacher. It calmed my nerves.
Swinging my leg over the saddle, I dismounted. "Beauty. Liam thought it might have something to do with that."
"Something abstract." Bláth placed a hand on her hip. “I know a few with catalysts like that. They were not easily found." Her voice lowered. "But you need to find it. Now."
Ferris leaped off his elk and circled me. His gaze lingered on my chest. For a moment, I thought he ogled my small but noble breasts. Looking down, I realized he was studying the Tirnanog Insignia on my breastplate.
"Ten years ago . . . " Ferris mused. "Laiserian said you made a scene at court—demanded Father send men to reclaim Tirnanog."
That had not been my finest hour. Clearing my throat, I glanced away. "That's ancient history, Ferris."
"Is it?" He raised an eyebrow, emerald eyes locking with mine. "You seem to care a great deal about it. In fact, I'd wager that's why you've been making eyes at my brother."
Startled, I hesitated before answering. Ferris had seen through me? Ferris, the black sheep of the royal family?
"Aren't you supposed to be a drunken failure?" I retorted.
The jab dug into Ferris—I saw him wince, and I regretted the words. But he recovered quickly. "I think of myself more as a drunken savant."
Bláth's eyes gleamed. "Tirnanog Myrmidons," she breathed.
"What about them?" I asked.
