The lantern flickered softly, throwing trembling gold shadows on the rough wooden walls. Melissa stood at the center of the room, her fingers curled around the rolled parchment they had taken back from Zara only hours earlier.

Joem stood on her right, Kennedy sat on her left, his legs spread apart, as he watched her face carefully.

Kennedy let out a low whistle. “He really did it, the idiot actually signed it.”

Melissa’s throat tightened. “He thought it was a temporary transfer, a symbolic alliance.”

Joem shook his head. “It wasn’t.”

He pointed to the lines of Old Tongue text woven through the parchment like chains.

“These runes—” He traced...