He's one of yours, and he needs your help." She stood in the lee of a small hill among many small hills, on shreds of redgrass, which were cropped to the roots and dying. A heavy wind drove across the sky, not touching her, but sweeping and snapping the patchwork cloak of the warrior who stood on...
She paused at a field of boulders, and in confusion pulled out her map. The boulders were very clearly marked, definitely just beyond the location of site one. Rowan looked back, scanned the landscape. There was nothing remarkable. The locations numbered one through three had been crossed out on ...
Three cushioned chairs stood close beside the snapping fireplace. Rowan sat in one—uneasily, on the edge, bending forward again and again to study one or another of the many charts that lay on a low table before her. In the second chair, Henra, the Prime of the Steerswomen, nestled comfortably: a...