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Unless it was a day such as this. She eyed the sky, rapidly darkening with the thunderclouds that gathered every afternoon toward the end of the season. So it was in Aleron, too. It was a rare day in late summer that passed without a thunderstorm.

In the past weeks, since leaving the Glass Mountains, she’d appreciated such summer storms. With the sun hidden behind clouds, Warrick’s reflection was easier to see and his voice easier to hear.

But they had not been in the Valley of Stars then. “I will tell you on the way. Let us hurry. We will not wish to be still in the narrows when the storm breaks.”

“It floods?”

She nodded and kicked her gelding into a canter, knowing Warrick would follow. The faster gait meant that she could not keep the shard aimed at him, yet he could still hear and see her.

Pointing to the waterline on the rocky canyon walls, she called out loudly enough to be heard over her mount’s hooves, which would have been pointless had the noise not been muffled in the layers of silt left by the frequent floods. “There are gems within the stone! The floods wash them through into Aleron!—so many, they have almost no value! Just as the gold does not! Such an enormous vein runs beneath the kingdom, it became utterly useless as currency! But it makes us very wealthy in other realms and when trading.”

She slowed to let her gelding pick his way through the debris of a flood-splintered tree. “The summer before Soren murdered my mother, we came here—my mother and I and her retinue. Not my uncle. She had little time for me but, now and again, she taught me lessons. So we came here, and in the moonlight, the gems glitter like stars. And I tell you, Warrick—I was raised in Aleron’s palace, surrounded by beautiful things. The finest of silks, the loveliest of jewelry, the most exquisite of chambers. Yet they were all nothing compared to the stars that night.” Unexpected emotion tightened her throat. “And she told me then why the gems were worth so little, but said that Aleron could stem the flow, so that they were more valuable and rare. We could prevent anyone from coming to the valley to collect their own. But the queens of Aleron never did, because the gems’ true worth was their beauty here, and we believed it should be shared by everyone. And there were people who came. From Aleron, from Tagdon—every summer, all summer, just to see. The entire length of the valley was full of people who came to see the stars. But what do I see now, Warrick? Nobody. And if this is a sign of the changes Soren has made here, then I am terrified by how much damage my uncle has likely done in Aleron.”

Warmth touched her cheek. She clasped his phantom hand to her face and sighed. “So we had best go and kill—”

Her horse shied to the right, nearly jolting her sideways out of the saddle. The shard dropped to the ground. Barely did Elina catch herself before joining it, clinging to the gelding’s long mane. Heat swept through her sides—Warrick, instinctively trying to catch her.

“I’m all right,” she panted, dragging herself upright. “What happened? Why did he—”

The clatter of stones pulled her gaze upward. Horror grabbed hold of her throat.

A demon. There was no other word for the creature uncoiling itself from its roost within a crevice in the canyon wall. Though vaguely human in shape, with arms and legs and heads in the expected places, its length from snouts to tail was three times Warrick’s height. Covered in reptilian scales, with forked tongues slicking out from its lipless mouths, it ought to have given the impression of some giant deformed beast. Yet no beast ever possessed such cold intelligence in its gaze, and it was that look which made Elina’s blood freeze.

Her gelding’s frantic neigh shattered the icy horror that had locked her in place. Swiftly Elina reached for her axe. More than anything, she wished to take a moment to retrieve the shard, to see where Warrick was, yet she dared not take her eyes from the demon as it slithered down the cliff.

Warrick had his own weapon—another axe that he had purchased along the way. He would surely be fine. Just as she would be.

Gripping the end of the axe’s chain in her fist, she wrapped the links twice around her wrist. The axe-head, she let drop to the ground. She’d practiced this. So many times.

And she was strong enough.

A drop of venom fell from the demon’s tail sting to sizzle upon the ground. Sharp, curved claws tipped its long fingers and toes. A dual grin revealed serrated teeth.

Its heads told her where Warrick was, she abruptly realized. One peered at her, the other watched him—at an angle that meant he was close beside her. She had not wanted to swing her axe if he was near, but in truth…her blade would simply go through him without harm.

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