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By Root 1718 0

’s invitation to Vounn, nothing more was said. For all that Vounn revealed, the small scroll might never have been delivered. Ekhaas felt like she might chew a hole in her table as she waited through meeting after meeting. On the next to last day before they were due to leave Karrlakton, Tariic, Vounn, and Baron Breven d’Deneith, patriarch of the house, emerged from a private discussion to make the grand announcement that Vounn would become Deneith’s envoy to the court of Lhesh Haruuc Shaarat’kor. The excitement that swept Sentinel Tower was astounding. Within an hour, the Darguuls of Tariic’s party went from being looked upon with suspicion to being greeted as allies. Ekhaas overheard more than one conversation declaring Vounn would be remembered as the new Jannes d’Deneith, responsible for bringing even greater wealth and influence to the House.

There was no word of whether Ashi would be joining Vounn, though. As soon as she had a chance, Ekhaas slipped up behind Tariic as he mingled at a reception. She didn’t even need to ask the question—as soon as she caught Tariic’s eye, he nodded and mouthed, “She’s coming,” before turning away to chat with some Karrn junior underminister of harvests. Ekhaas felt as if a yoke had been lifted from her shoulders.

Or at least as if one yoke had been lifted. Others still weighed her down, and they’d still be there through another week.

The Darguuls departed Karrlakton on the twenty-second day of the month of Lharvion with as much spectacle and ceremony as when they had arrived. They formed up in a courtyard near one of Sentinel Tower’s wide gates, and Ekhaas finally caught a glimpse of Ashi. Her friend, shrouded again in her ever-present scarf, stood quietly behind Tariic and Vounn. After a pretty speech by Breven d’Deneith, the trio climbed into an open carriage. To the cheers of House Deneith, their procession—led by House guards from Sentinel Tower marching alongside a unit of the Karrlakton watch—paraded out into the city and through the streets toward the ship that waited in the harbor. As they went, increasing numbers of people came out to stare at the goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears with their flashing armor and thunderous war music. The tigers of the cavalry probably would have drawn even more awestruck excitement from the crowd, but they had already been taken down to the ship, along with any baggage, during the quiet of the night. At some point the crowd of city-dwellers began cheering Tariic as well, and he waved at them from his carriage. They likely, Ekhaas suspected, had no idea whom they were cheering for, but they cheered anyway.

At the harbor, more officials of Deneith and even some of Karrlakton waited to make more farewell speeches. Tariic and Vounn stood to accept them while soldiers and councilors shifted with poorly disguised impatience. Eventually, however, they were all on board the ship and lines were being cast off. The ship’s captain, a half-elf of House Lyrandar, called hands to stations, then gripped the ship’s wheel. From where she stood on the deck, Ekhaas saw a look of concentration cross his face as he invoked the dragonmark of his house. The morning air stirred in response and the sails of the ship filled. They began to move, and Karrlakton fell away behind them.

The first part of their journey lay west along the long arm of Scion’s Sound that formed the border between Karrnath and what had once been Cyre but was now only the Mournland, blasted and cursed in the final days of the Last War. The captain kept his ship as close to the Karrnathi coast as possible without grounding her, but the arm of the sound was narrow and the unmoving bank of dead gray mist that cloaked the Mournland loomed over them. From time to time, weird cries and howls echoed out of the mist, provoking answering snarls from the tigers caged below deck. More substantial and threatening things had been known to emerge from the mists, and every Darguul soldier on the ship stood at the rail, eyes on the mist, ears raised, hands on weapons.

Ekhaas stood with them, all the tales