Except for the storyteller, whom no one had ever thought to question, no one unknown to them had ever found this glade. And although she did not know how Kane had discovered them, she could see that it only added to the sense of awe among the clan that he already had inspired. They parted for him as if he were brandishing the sword that was sheathed at his side. He walked toward Jenna. She looked at him, eyes searching his face. She saw nothing but the cold, ruthless gaze of the legend. Not even recognition warmed his icy gray eyes. Nor did he speak to her when he came to a halt before the still-dazed gathering. “If you wish to succeed,” he said, his voice booming out over them all, his tone one Jenna had never heard from him before, even when he had been shouting his sharpest orders at her, “you must think of yourselves all as already dead. You await only the vultures to confirm it. If you can do this, some remnant of your clan may survive.
