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“Not quite.” Lyric wrapped her arm around mine. It was amazing how completely familiar and right it felt to have her by my side, talking and laughing and walking arm in arm. “I’ll give you the short version. You’ll learn more later. In Troikana⁠—”

A short laugh fell from my lips. “Troikana? Is that in Europe?”

Lyric smiled weakly. “Not exactly.”

“Lyric, you’re proving my point.” Madigan had pulled up next to us. “Troikana is a country in the Shadowlands. There are three separate regions in Troikana, each inhabited by the ascendants of ancient warring tribes. The Valians are in Norvale. The Solamites live in Solamere.”

“Solamere is very fancy, with big glass houses and …” Madigan’s glower caused Lyric’s words to fall off. “Just trying to add some context and flavor,” Lyric complained.

“Short version, remember?” Madigan said. As she spoke, an excessively loud pair of motorcycles rolled past. The riders, dressed in leather and faded denim with all the patches and regalia that went with chopper riding, slowed to stare at the four of us. The bikes were as loud as helicopter blades cutting the air.

Madigan opened her mouth to continue, but there was too much noise. In one lightning fast and creamy smooth movement, she took out an arrow, secured it in her bow and shot it straight through one of the motorcycle’s tires.

“What the fuck!” the rider yelled. They both stopped to check the damage.

I hurried my pace. “They might be a little mad about all that. Maybe we should run?”

“No need.” Madigan waved her hand. The arrow returned to her quiver, and the two bikes rumbled on as if nothing had happened. “This short version is taking too long. The Regnas live in Regnamoor.”

Lyric scrunched up her nose and shook her head slightly. She was apparently not a Regna fan.

“You have blood from all three regions. So, tri-mix,” Madigan said curtly. “We should pick up the pace. Austri is wilting under this sun.”

Not that I minded Madigan’s short and to the point explanations, but each one of them left me with a million more questions. I lowered my voice to a whisper, for only Lyric to hear. “Are we going to Troikana? How long will I be there?”

Reluctant to answer, Lyric bit her lip. She glanced back at Madigan. “Yes. We’re going to Troikana. I don’t know the second answer.”

We trudged along the hot city sidewalks. Lyric marveled at things in shop windows. She particularly loved a floral print sundress with a flouncy skirt in a boutique. I let her know she would look stunning in the dress. That made her smile. That kind of innocuous conversation helped the walk go by faster. I had so many questions, but it seemed to burden Lyric to answer them. I decided to go along with the plan. After all, they were friends. Behind us, like a zipper being opened and then shut, the onlookers gasped in shock and whispered behind hands and then seconds later went about their day as if nothing peculiar had happened.

The cool morning rain was a distant memory, and the sun bore down on us as we reached the outskirts of town and hit the dirt road that led to Dante Fell. It was a workday, and the small gravel parking lot was empty. Austri had faltered some on the long, hot walk, but now that we’d reached Dante Fell, his stubby legs took off like a toddler running to grab a toy or his mom’s hand.

Madigan chuckled at the sight of Austri half-running. “Someone is anxious to get back to his pint at the Black Dragon.”

I shot a questioning look at Lyric. She wiggled her tiny nose in disgust. “The Black Dragon is a rubble-covered, moss-slimed tavern. Their ale isn’t bad, but only if you can stand sitting in the place long enough to drink it.”

As we hiked along the dirt trail that would eventually end at the river, my three friends grew unusually subdued. “Do you see Omni?” Madigan called up to Austri. Even his pint-of-ale pace had slowed.

Austri’s red hair caught the sunlight through the trees, making the short spikes look like flames. “I don’t see the bird.”

I looked at Lyric. “Omni? So, you know the raven. Is he a pet?”

“Omni is Revel Greyhart’s sight animal. Most people don’t have one, but Omni belongs to Revel. Revel can see through the raven’s eyes, even if he’s far away in another land.”

I nodded. “I see, but that brings me to another big question. Who the heck is Revel Greyhart?”

Lyric’s cheeks rolled up with a smile. “You haven’t met him yet, but trust me, once you have, you’ll never ever forget him.”

“His bird, Omni, scared off my attacker yesterday.” I was mostly just thinking aloud. There was a lot to process.

“One of Prince Fenrick’s nasty henchman. Gunnar, no doubt. He’ll do anything for Fenrick. Long, silver and black braid down his back and fangs?”

“That’s him!” I said loud enough to scare a few sparrows from a nearby tree. I shrank back, embarrassed about the outburst, considering that Madigan and Austri were so quiet.

Madigan held her bow tightly and at an angle that seemed to indicate she was ready for an attack. Her tension and Austri’s sudden slow down to a crawl made my muscles tighten, too. The landscape was eerily silent as if the critters inhabiting the trees and grasses had fled the area.

We reached the clearing. The tall shale cliffs loomed ahead, and the river was even more rambunctious than usual after the morning rain. No breeze today. The whole idyllic scene stood as still as an oil painting.

Austri turned back to Madigan. “Thought Rev might be here.” Austri looked at me. “She’s small. Do you think the two of us together could throw her across?”