I woke with a start, sweating and with my heart banging against my chest. The walls of the tent, made of canvas, shook in the fluttering lamplight, casting curved shadows over our gear and maps. Kael was lying next to me, sound asleep, his sword sheath still strapped to his waist. I cradled my hand to my chest, tasting copper in the air—my pulse still zinging. Outside, the pre‑dawn silence hung heavy in the cold, with an occasional grunt of elk in the distance and the sibilance of pine.