The footprint was still fresh.
Kael crouched beside it, studying the impression left in the thin layer of dust. The heel had pressed deeper than the toes, and a small patch of dry grass lay crushed beneath its outer edge. Whoever had stood there hadn't been passing through.
They had stopped to watch.
Seren remained a few steps away, his segmented blade lowered at his side. He looked from the footprint to the rocky slope above the shelter, then toward the narrow stretch of Greyhook Route visible below.
"How long ago?" he asked.
Kael touched the edge of the impression. The displaced dust hadn't settled completely, though the wind was beginning to soften its outline.
"Not long."
"Minutes?"
"Maybe."
Seren nodded. "Can you see where they went?"
Kael followed the ground uphill.
The next few metres were bare stone. Beyond them, a shelf of broken rock climbed toward a narrow ridge, dark against the starless sky. Anyone familiar with the terrain could have retreated that way without leaving much behind.
"Up there, probably."
"Probably isn't the same as certainly."
Kael glanced at him. "I know."
"Good. Remember that."
Seren crouched beside the footprint and examined it for several seconds.
Then he looked back toward the shelter.
"Morrow."
The large man appeared at the entrance almost immediately.
"Found something?"
"Someone watching us. Stay with the survivor."
Morrow's expression lost its usual amusement.
"How many?"
"At least one."
"That's reassuring."
"It wasn't meant to be."
Morrow nodded once and disappeared inside.
Seren turned toward Kael. "We're going back."
Kael looked up the ridge.
"We aren't following?"
"Whoever made that print had a clear view of the shelter. If they wanted to remain unnoticed, they could have stayed farther back."
Kael considered that.
"You think they wanted us to find it?"
"I think it's possible."
Seren started downhill.
Kael followed, looking over his shoulder once more.
Nothing moved.
But the quiet no longer felt empty.
They had almost reached the shelter when Lyra stepped out from behind a large stone to their left.
Kael stopped short.
"Where did you come from?"
"The ridge."
"You were up there?"
"Part of it."
"Did you see anyone?"
"No. Which bothers me more than if I had."
She looked toward Seren. "There's a narrow shelf running behind the upper rocks. Someone could cross it without being visible from below. I found fresh scratches near the edge, but no clear tracks."
"Climbing equipment?" Seren asked.
"Possibly. Whoever it was knew where to put their hands."
"Then they're comfortable on this terrain."
Lyra glanced toward the shelter.
"Do we move camp?"
"Not yet."
Kael frowned. "Wouldn't staying make us an easier target?"
"Moving an injured man through unfamiliar ground in the dark would make us an easier target," Seren replied. "Here, at least, we know what we're defending."
He turned to Lyra.
"Don't chase anything that tries to draw you uphill."
She nodded.
Kael noticed the wording.
Not anyone.
Anything.
Seren had been careful about what he assumed since the relay. He hadn't decided whether they were dealing with people, creatures, or some combination of the two.
After the wagon memory, Kael wasn't prepared to make that decision either.
Inside the shelter, Talia was kneeling beside the unconscious survivor. She had loosened the man's collar and placed a folded piece of cloth beneath his head. The covered glow-stone cast just enough light to make out their faces.
"Still breathing," she reported as they entered. "Pulse is a little stronger."
Morrow stood beside the entrance, looking thoroughly dissatisfied.
"Wonderful. The man outside can wait his turn."
"Did you find anything?" Talia asked.
"A footprint," Seren said. "Someone has been observing the camp. Possibly more than one."
She glanced at the unconscious man.
"Then we should assume they know we found him."
Kael looked over.
"You think they're after him?"
"I think if someone attacked three wagons, searched them for records, and left injured people behind, they might be interested in whether any of those people survived."
"That's one possibility," Seren said.
Talia nodded. "Which is why I'm not going to ignore it."
She reached into her field bag and removed a coil of thin wire.
Morrow watched her.
"Please tell me you're not putting that across the doorway."
"Not the doorway."
"Good."
"I'm putting it where someone would step if they tried coming around the left-hand wall."
Morrow looked toward the narrow space between the shelter and the rock.
"There's barely enough room for a dog."
"A dog wouldn't come through carrying a blade."
"You don't know the dogs I've met."
Talia didn't look up.
Kael almost smiled.
Then the survivor made a small, strained sound.
Every head turned.
The man's fingers moved against the blanket. His breathing quickened, and his face tightened as though he were trying to escape something unpleasant.
Lyra went to him.
"Easy," she said quietly.
His eyes remained closed.
For a moment, Kael thought he might wake.
Instead, the man's shoulders relaxed, and he slipped back into unconsciousness.
"Don't force him," Morrow said. "He's lost blood and taken a blow to the head. If he wakes properly, he wakes."
Talia finished securing her wire and rose.
"Then we make sure he gets the chance."
Seren checked the entrance once more.
"We keep the glow-stone covered. Nobody goes outside alone. Morrow stays near the patient, and the rest of us cover the approaches."
He looked at Kael.
"Can you still hear anything unusual?"
Kael hesitated.
There was Echo beneath them, certainly. Old footfalls, wagon wheels and faint memories held in the rock. But after what had happened at the wagons, he knew better than to treat every strange sensation as reliable information.
"Nothing I can identify."
"That's fine."
Kael blinked.
Seren adjusted the fastening on his glove.
"Not knowing something isn't a failure. Pretending you know is."
He moved toward the entrance.
Kael watched him go, then took a position where he could see the upper rocks without blocking the shelter's narrow opening.
The night settled around them.
For nearly twenty minutes, nothing happened.
And then a stone fell.
It struck the ground somewhere uphill with a sharp crack.
Kael turned.
A second stone followed.
Then a third.
Each one landed a little farther to the left.
Lyra, standing beside him, narrowed her eyes.
"That's deliberate."
Seren appeared at the entrance.
"Where?"
Kael pointed.
"Upper slope. Left side."
Morrow stepped forward.
"Want me to go say hello?"
"No," Seren said.
Another stone fell.
This one bounced down the slope and landed less than ten metres from the shelter.
Morrow sighed.
"They're practically asking."
Talia crouched beside the entrance and listened.
Then she reached toward the wire she had fixed along the left-hand wall.
Her fingers stopped just short of touching it.
"Seren."
Something in her voice made Kael look away from the ridge.
Talia was staring at the narrow gap beside the shelter.
"What?" Seren asked.
"The wire moved."
A faint metallic scrape came from the darkness.
Not uphill.
Beside them.
Seren's expression changed.
"Everyone down."
The first bolt entered the shelter before Kael had fully moved.
It struck the stone wall above the survivor's head.
Morrow moved before the second one arrived.
His broad frame suddenly seemed to lose its weight as he crossed the shelter. He seized the injured man's blanket and dragged him away from the opening, dropping to one knee between the bedroll and the narrow gap.
Another bolt struck his raised gauntlet.
Metal rang.
Morrow grunted and turned his wrist, sending the damaged bolt skittering across the floor.
"Well," he said, "that's rude."
Talia pulled her wire.
Something crashed against the outside wall.
A man's voice cursed.
Seren caught Kael by the back of his coat and pulled him behind a stone support as a third bolt cut through the space where his shoulder had been.
"Stay low."
Kael landed awkwardly but kept hold of Grayshard.
Outside, someone was struggling against Talia's wire. The line had tightened around their ankle, but instead of trying to pull free, the attacker had dropped to one knee and was cutting through it with a short blade.
"He's got a knife," Kael warned.
"I noticed," Talia replied.
She drew a dart.
The figure outside twisted as she threw it. The dart struck his upper arm rather than his throat, and he hissed in pain.
Then the wire snapped.
He lunged through the gap.
Kael caught a glimpse of a dark hood, a leather face covering and a compact launcher fastened to the man's wrist.
Not a creature.
A person.
The attacker drove his knife toward Talia.
She stepped backward and caught his wrist with a loop of wire, but he was stronger than his narrow build suggested. He hauled her forward, attempting to force her off balance.
Kael moved.
He remembered Lyra's lessons from the quarry.
Don't chase the weapon.
Watch what the person carrying it needs to do.
The attacker's knife hand was occupied with Talia. His other arm was already rising toward the shelter, the wrist launcher turning toward Morrow and the injured man.
Kael struck that arm with Grayshard.
Not a clean cut.
The blade scraped across the metal housing and bit into the leather beneath it.
The man flinched.
The launcher fired into the ground.
Talia used the opening immediately. She twisted the wire around his elbow, stepped past him and pulled hard.
His arm bent behind his back.
But he didn't fall.
He threw his weight sideways and slammed into Kael.
Pain burst through Kael's shoulder as he struck the wall.
Grayshard nearly slipped from his hand.
The attacker turned toward him, drawing a second knife from his belt.
Kael barely raised his weapon in time.
Steel met steel.
The impact drove his sword backward.
For an instant, the man's eyes met his through the opening in the face covering.
There was nothing supernatural about them.
No pale glow.
No visible fracture.
Just a person's eyes, narrowed in concentration, looking for the quickest way to put a blade into him.
That frightened Kael more than he expected.
The attacker pressed forward.
Then stopped.
Morrow had caught him by the back of his coat.
"Oh, no," Morrow said.
He pulled.
The man left the ground.
Kael stumbled clear as Morrow lifted the attacker off his feet and drove him against the shelter wall.
The impact knocked the air from his lungs.
Before he could recover, Talia wrapped the remaining wire around his wrists and secured it to a metal support ring.
The man struggled once.
Morrow rested one enormous hand on his shoulder.
"Try that again," he said pleasantly.
The man stopped.
For half a heartbeat, Kael thought the fight was over.
Then a bolt struck the rock beside Seren's head.
The sound came from above.
"Second one!" Kael shouted.
Seren was already moving.
He stepped away from the shelter, glanced toward the upper ridge and lifted his blade.
"Lyra. Left notch."
She emerged from the darkness near the entrance.
"How far?"
"Three stones, then across."
Kael looked uphill.
The left-hand notch was separated from the shelter by broken rock and a steep patch of loose ground. It looked like a terrible route to take in darkness.
Lyra didn't hesitate.
She ran.
Her first step carried her onto a low stone. The second landed between two narrow cracks. As she crossed the third, a bolt struck the place she had occupied a moment earlier.
She ducked beneath it and continued.
Then came the strange part.
There should have been no easy way around the next cluster of rocks. Kael had studied that slope when they first chose the shelter. The gap was too narrow for a straightforward climb, and the wider path left anyone exposed to the ridge above.
Lyra turned sideways at exactly the right moment.
One foot found a ledge Kael hadn't noticed.
She pushed off it, caught the far rock with one hand and passed through the gap without losing speed.
It looked less like she'd discovered a path than like the path had been waiting for her.
Seren lowered his blade slightly.
"Now."
Lyra disappeared over the ridge.
A shout followed.
Then the sharp ring of steel.
Seren glanced toward Morrow and the captive.
"Keep him alive."
Morrow's expression suggested he considered that an unnecessarily demanding instruction.
"Fine."
"Talia, check the prisoner. Kael, with me."
Kael pushed away from the wall, his shoulder throbbing.
They climbed a short distance toward the ridge.
Above them, Lyra's blades flashed briefly in the dark.
Her opponent moved quickly.
Kael could make out a narrow figure carrying a curved blade and a compact crossbow. The figure kept shifting position, trying to preserve the height advantage, but Lyra refused to follow the obvious lines of attack.
She stayed close enough to prevent another shot.
Steel struck steel again.
The attacker retreated.
Lyra cut across his path.
He twisted away and threw a small object at her feet.
It burst against the rock, releasing a thick cloud of grey dust.
Lyra backed out of it with one sleeve over her face.
The attacker ran.
Seren stopped beneath the ridge.
"Don't follow!"
Lyra halted at the edge of the dust cloud.
For a moment, Kael thought she might ignore him.
Then she stepped back.
A heartbeat later, a section of the narrow ledge ahead of her gave way.
Loose stones poured down the slope.
Kael stared.
The attacker had fled across it moments before.
Or seemed to.
Lyra watched the collapse, her expression darkening.
"A prepared exit."
Seren nodded.
"And probably not the only one."
They waited until the dust began to settle before climbing any farther.
The upper shelf was empty.
The fleeing attacker had vanished beyond a steep drop where the rock divided into several narrow passages. There were signs of recent movement along one of them, but no way to know whether that was the route the attacker had actually used.
Lyra crouched near the broken ledge.
"That wasn't a desperate escape."
"No," Seren agreed.
"He knew where the weak stone was. He knew where to throw the dust. And he knew we'd be tempted to follow."
Kael looked down toward the shelter.
"So he was trying to lead us away."
"Possibly."
"While the other one went after the survivor."
Seren said nothing.
Kael didn't need him to.
The pieces were beginning to fit.
The footprint facing the camp.
The falling stones.
The attacker sneaking around the wall.
The bolts aimed into the shelter.
Whoever these people were, they hadn't arrived by accident.
They had watched the group long enough to understand where the injured man was lying.
And they had brought a plan.
Lyra stood and cleaned a trace of grey powder from Needle.
"That makes two things I dislike."
Kael looked at her.
"Only two?"
"For now."
She glanced toward the collapsed ledge.
"They knew the terrain better than we did, and they were willing to risk one of their own to get close to the patient."
Seren turned back toward the shelter.
"Let's find out why."
The captive was sitting against the rear wall when they returned.
Morrow had removed his knives, wrist launcher and several smaller tools. Talia had secured his wrists behind a metal support with enough wire that escape would require either considerable strength or the loss of several fingers.
Kael doubted the man would enjoy either option.
The injured survivor lay farther away, still unconscious.
Morrow had covered him with a second blanket.
"Anything?" Seren asked.
Talia held up a narrow strip of folded metal.
"Found this in his belt."
Kael stepped closer.
It looked like part of a mechanical key.
Two thin copper teeth extended from one end, while the other had been flattened into a grip small enough to conceal beneath a glove.
Seren took it.
"A lockpick?"
"Not quite."
Talia removed a similar tool from her own bag and laid them side by side.
Kael recognized the shape almost immediately.
"The relay."
She nodded.
"Same kind of fitting used to release a route-key."
Morrow looked toward the prisoner.
"Well, that seems convenient."
"Don't get excited," Talia said. "These fittings are used by maintenance crews across the network. It doesn't prove he altered the station."
"But he could have."
"He could."
The captive remained silent.
Seren crouched in front of him.
"Who sent you?"
No answer.
"Your companion has escaped. You're injured. We have no reason to kill you, provided you don't give us one."
The man's eyes shifted toward the survivor.
It was brief.
Barely more than a glance.
But everyone noticed.
Seren followed it.
"He's the reason you came."
The captive looked away.
Morrow folded his arms.
"Not much of a talker."
"That doesn't mean he's got nothing to say," Talia replied.
She examined the man's equipment.
Everything was practical.
Well maintained.
Nothing expensive enough to suggest an elite operative, but nothing careless either.
There was no obvious insignia on his clothing.
No guild badge.
No identifying crest.
Even his boots had been scraped clean of their maker's mark.
Kael watched Talia study them.
"Someone removed those."
She glanced up.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"People who don't want to be identified tend to dislike carrying identification."
Morrow nodded.
"Another one of her great discoveries."
"You're welcome."
Seren lifted the man's chin.
"Listen carefully. Someone interfered with an official relay. Several caravans were attacked. People may have been killed, and this man was left in a ditch badly injured."
The prisoner stared straight ahead.
"We're taking him somewhere he can receive treatment," Seren continued. "You can either tell us what danger we're walking into, or remain quiet and explain yourself to the guild."
For the first time, the captive reacted.
Not much.
His jaw tightened.
Seren noticed.
"The guild bothers you?"
Silence.
"Interesting."
He stood.
"Search everything. Keep him secured."
Morrow looked disappointed.
"That's all?"
"For now."
"I could ask him questions."
"You already tried frightening him."
"Didn't finish."
"Morrow."
"Fine."
Kael turned away before the man could see him smile.
Then he noticed the captive watching him.
Not Seren.
Not Morrow.
Him.
The man's gaze dropped to Grayshard.
For an instant, Kael felt a familiar unease.
He looked down at the weapon.
Nothing had changed.
The engravings remained dull.
The dark metal band at his wrist was quiet.
The captive looked away.
Kael considered asking him whether he recognized the sword.
But he stopped himself.
People looked at weapons.
That wasn't unusual.
After the quarry and the wagon, he was beginning to understand how easy it would be to mistake every ordinary detail for a sign of something greater.
He turned to Seren.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Why didn't we chase the second one?"
Seren glanced toward Lyra.
She was cleaning the last of the powder from her blades.
"Because the first one was willing to enter a defended shelter carrying a weapon and very little protection."
Kael frowned.
"What does that have to do with it?"
"He knew the risk. So did his companion."
Seren returned his attention to the young explorer.
"If they were prepared to lose one man, I won't assume they were prepared to lose only one."
Kael thought of the ridge.
The falling stones.
The narrow ledge that had collapsed.
Another few steps and Lyra might have gone over it.
"Right."
"We already have one prisoner and a wounded survivor. There's no reason to trade them for a fight on ground we don't understand."
Kael nodded.
That was something he had begun to appreciate about the Hushbound.
They weren't afraid to fight.
But they didn't seem especially interested in fighting either.
At least, not when they could avoid it.
A noise came from behind them.
Small.
Hoarse.
Everyone turned.
The survivor's eyes were open.
The man stared at the ceiling for several seconds, breathing unevenly.
Then he tried to sit up.
Pain stopped him almost immediately.
Morrow was beside him before he could make another attempt.
"Easy."
The man flinched at the sound of his voice.
"Where—"
"Safe enough for the moment."
The survivor looked around.
His eyes passed over Lyra, Talia and Seren.
Then they reached the captive.
His face changed.
He recoiled so violently that Morrow had to catch his shoulder.
"No."
His voice was little more than a rasp.
"No, no—"
"Easy," Morrow repeated.
The man tried to pull away.
"Keep him away."
Seren looked toward Talia.
"Cover his face."
She took a piece of spare cloth and tied it loosely around the captive's lower face before shifting him farther toward the entrance, out of the survivor's immediate view.
The prisoner's expression remained unreadable.
The injured man continued breathing hard.
Lyra knelt beside him.
"Look at me."
His eyes shifted toward her.
"You're hurt. We found you beside the Greyhook Route. We're explorers, and we've treated your injuries as best we can."
He swallowed.
"Greyhook."
"Yes."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"The wagons?"
Kael stepped closer.
"We found three."
The man closed his eyes.
For a moment, Kael thought he'd lost consciousness again.
Then the survivor spoke.
"They came after the records."
Seren and Lyra exchanged a look.
"What records?" Lyra asked.
The man shook his head weakly.
"Maps."
"We know they took maps," Talia said. "Do you know why?"
He tried to answer.
The effort made him cough.
Morrow gave him a little water, carefully enough that he wouldn't choke.
"Don't push him," Morrow warned.
Seren nodded.
"We have time."
The survivor drank another mouthful.
Kael crouched on the opposite side.
"What happened to your wagon?"
The man's eyes moved toward him.
Kael kept his voice steady.
"We found blood. Broken equipment. Some of the compartments had been searched."
The survivor stared at him for a moment.
Then looked down at the bandage around his ribs.
"I was driving."
His voice came slowly.
"We stopped when we saw the road marker."
"Which marker?" Seren asked.
"West crossing. The old one."
Talia frowned.
"There shouldn't be an active crossing there."
The survivor's expression twisted.
"That's what we said."
Kael glanced at her.
She was already reaching for her map.
The man continued.
"Someone had changed it. Blue. Said the road was open."
"The relay signal," Lyra murmured.
He nodded weakly.
"There were men waiting farther down. Said the surveys needed checking."
"Did they identify themselves?" Seren asked.
The survivor shook his head.
"Had tools. Looked like road workers."
He paused.
"One of them asked for our route papers."
"What happened when you refused?"
The man touched the side of his head.
His fingers trembled.
"I remember shouting."
He swallowed.
"Then someone hit me."
Morrow's expression darkened.
The survivor continued, staring at nothing.
"I fell. Tried to get up. There were people running."
He stopped.
"Someone was screaming."
Nobody interrupted.
Kael thought of the fragments he'd seen at the wagon.
Hands searching compartments.
Coins spilling across the floor.
A figure missing from the memory.
He wanted to ask whether the survivor remembered that person.
But there were too many questions, and the man looked as though every word cost him something.
Lyra seemed to reach the same conclusion.
"That's enough for now."
The survivor caught her sleeve.
"Wait."
She looked down.
His grip was weak, but desperate.
"They weren't interested in the money."
"We noticed."
"They didn't even check most of the cargo."
"What were they looking for?" she asked.
He tried to answer.
A sharp pain crossed his face.
Morrow leaned forward.
"Enough."
The man's eyes closed again.
His hand slipped from Lyra's sleeve.
This time, he didn't wake when she spoke.
Talia checked his breathing.
"He's still with us."
Morrow adjusted the blanket.
"Then leave him be."
Seren rose slowly.
"West crossing," he said.
Talia opened her map.
The glow-stone illuminated the Greyhook Route as a thin winding line between dark ridges.
She traced the western section with her finger.
"There's an old crossing marker near the trench approach, but it was retired years ago. The official route doesn't use it anymore."
"Why?"
"Unstable ground. The road was surveyed again after several collapses."
Kael looked toward the map.
"So the old marker shouldn't have been telling anyone to go that way."
"No."
"And the false relay signal made it look safe."
Talia nodded.
"Someone wanted travellers following the wrong instructions."
Lyra folded her arms.
"Then why take their maps?"
"Maybe to stop them reporting what happened," Morrow suggested.
"Maybe," Seren said.
But he didn't sound convinced.
Kael thought back to the wagon.
He remembered the attacker opening the map case.
The way the coins had been ignored.
The speed with which the records had been removed.
They hadn't looked confused.
They hadn't searched randomly.
They seemed to know precisely which compartments to open.
"Seren."
The older explorer turned.
"At the wagon, the people I saw weren't checking every piece of cargo."
"We gathered that."
"No, I mean they went straight to the records."
Talia looked up.
"Like they knew where they'd be kept?"
Kael nodded.
"Or knew exactly what they wanted."
Seren studied the map.
"Then perhaps the signal wasn't the real objective."
Morrow frowned.
"People are dead because somebody turned a warning blue. Feels like a fairly important objective."
"It is," Seren said. "But the false signal may have been the method rather than the reason."
Lyra's eyes moved toward the captive near the entrance.
"And if they needed the wagons to come here..."
"...then whatever they wanted might already have been travelling with them," Talia finished.
Kael looked toward the unconscious survivor.
He thought about the route papers.
The missing survey sheets.
The old crossing.
A strange question occurred to him.
"Why would anyone need several different caravans' maps of the same road?"
Nobody answered immediately.
Then Talia spoke.
"They might not."
She lowered her gaze to the map.
"Not if they were looking for something that only appeared on one of them."
The shelter fell quiet.
Outside, the wind moved along the rocks.
Seren looked toward the eastern edge of the sky. It was still dark, but they had already been awake through a good portion of the night.
"We aren't solving this before dawn," he said. "Secure the prisoner. Nobody leaves the shelter without telling me. We continue when we have enough light to examine the crossing properly."
Morrow stretched his shoulders.
"And if our friend outside comes back?"
Seren glanced toward the captured attacker.
"Then he'll find we've made the same mistake twice."
Morrow grinned.
"Finally. Something cheerful."
Talia looked at him.
"You have a very strange definition of cheerful."
"Works for me."
Lyra sheathed her blades and returned to the survivor.
Kael remained beside the map.
He studied the thin line representing Greyhook Route.
The official road.
The road the relay had falsely declared safe.
And somewhere farther west, an old crossing that should no longer have been in use.
He had spent much of his life learning that ruins remembered things people had forgotten.
Roads were no different.
They had histories.
They changed direction.
They were rebuilt over older paths.
Sometimes they disappeared from maps without disappearing from the land.
Kael lifted his eyes.
"Talia."
She looked over.
"What?"
"Do you have any maps from before they changed the crossing?"
She considered the question.
"Not with me. The guild might."
"How old is the route?"
"Which part?"
"The part we're standing on."
She glanced at the sheet in front of her.
"Greyhook's been revised more than once. Why?"
Kael hesitated.
He wasn't sure.
There was no strange whisper telling him what to think.
No memory dragging him into the past.
Just something about the survivor's words that bothered him.
He looked at the old crossing marked in faded ink.
"Maybe we're asking about the wrong road."
Talia studied him.
Before she could answer, a weak voice came from behind them.
"The old maps."
They turned.
The survivor was awake again, though only barely.
His eyes were fixed on the sheet beneath Kael's hand.
Lyra leaned toward him.
"What about them?"
The man swallowed painfully.
"They kept asking for the old surveys."
Seren approached.
"Why?"
The survivor's gaze moved toward him.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he whispered:
"They weren't looking for Greyhook."
Kael felt his grip tighten around the edge of the map.
The man drew one more shallow breath.
"They wanted the road that came before it."
——-————————————————••