When Shannon rode down from Blackthorn Keep, the highlands felt sharper than before.
The northern roads should have been crowded this time of year—wagons hauling silver from the mines, carts piled with timber from enchanted groves, fur traders making their way south. Instead, the roads were thin. The few caravans that passed were scattered and nervous.
The fall of Troy Mendez and Carlos Suarez had done more than topple two families. It had shaken the bones of the valley. Contracts were broken, caravans halted, and smaller merchants began to argue over scraps. Without steady routes and guards, many traders refused to set out at all. Prices of grain and salt had doubled in only two weeks.
Before Tristan's first vault transaction, the manor and the pack were already feeling the strain. Each had memories of how they stretched resources and their patience.
