The wind off the river bank died down the further they climbed into the pine forests of the northern ridge. The heavy gray fog that had swallowed the stone bridge was left behind in the valley floor, replaced by crisp, biting mountain air that made the horses huff white clouds into the dark green trees.

Nila let her horse set its own steady pace up the rocky incline. Her heavy fur cloak was buttoned tight against her throat now, but underneath the wool, her left shoulder still felt warm. It was a comforting sensation of the mark that hummed steadly, matching thud of Kaelen's horse walking right beside her.

Kaelen...