"Scouts sighted the banners," he said with no greeting. His voice was low, sharp—like the far-off clatter of a storm. "North ridge, below the edge of the forest."
I held the railing, taking a shaky breath. "Ironclaw." The word tasted of snow and steel. "What does Brynn want?"
He shook his head, jaw tight. "She sends no herald. No drums. Just a riderless elk and black flags. That means that she has come for more than a courtesy visit."
In silence we wandered down the long deserted flagstone lit corridor. Each torch we walked beneath flickered as if to warn us, shadows of the flames flicking on the walls like malignant spirits. As we approached the gates to the courtyard, Kael's hand hovered over his sword hilt again and I gripped the dagger I had hidden under my cloak.
