They rode for three more days, winding through the old forest paths, past ruined watchtowers choked with ivy and clearings where the stones of forgotten villages lay half-buried in the leaf mold. On the fourth morning, they emerged from the Thornwood into a wide, shallow valley where a dry riverbed curved through banks of pale gravel. The sky had cleared, and a thin, bright sun glittered on the frost.“The Hollow Vale,” Kester said. “We’ve made good time.”“Faster than I expected.”“Well, nobody’s chasing us. Yet.”“Do not tempt fate.”“I wasn’t. I was merely observing.”Elder Williams chuckled and nudged his grey forward. They followed the riverbed for several miles, the horses picking their way carefully across the loose stones, until the walls of the valley began to narrow and the banks rose higher on either side, craggy and steep.“I don’t like this stretch,” Kester muttered, eyeing the heights. “Too many places for an ambush.”“We have taken every precaution.”“Doesn’t mean they’v

The cavalry charge hit like a thunderclap, the horses’ hooves churning the gravel, lances glinting in the sun. Elder Williams did not retreat. He stood in the center of the riverbed, Dawnrender in his right hand, his left hand raised, and as the lead lancer thundered down on him, a great shimmering wall of translucent green light sprang up before him. The horse slammed into it and recoiled, screaming, hurling its rider over its head. The man hit the ground and did not rise.“The clovers don’t just destroy,” Elder Williams said, his voice carrying with eerie calm across the chaos. “They protect, bind, and heal. That is the part your masters never understood.”He swept his hand sideways, and the wall of light curved, sweeping the next three riders from their saddles. Kester, meanwhile, had vaulted onto the back of a riderless horse and was driving straight into the second rank, his sword whirling like a scythe. Two guards fell before they could raise their lances. A third lunged at him,

Elder Corwin’s smile was thin, tired, and entirely unrepentant.“I wish I could claim some great feat of foresight,” he called back across the steaming water. “The truth is simpler. The river told us.”“The river,” Elder Williams repeated.“It has a way of announcing visitors, as you may remember from your last stay.” Corwin gestured at the churning surface around the boat. “Two hours ago, the current near the northern bank went smooth as glass. It has done that only twice in forty years, once for Thorne’s party and once, long ago, for you. Adrian felt it first. He said, ‘Williams is coming,’ and I told him he was being sentimental. Then he told me to bring the boat.”“I never said sentimental,” Master Adrian grumbled from beside him. “I said you were being slow.”“You did say that as well.”Elder Williams stared at the two brothers, and some of the stiffness went out of his shoulders. A rueful, disbelieving smile pulled at his mouth. “Thirty years,” he said, “and you two have not cha

The table quieted. Williams set down his cup slowly.“You are observant,” he said.“I have had practice,” Thorne said. “Tell us what happened.”Williams exchanged a glance with Kester, who shrugged and nodded. The old master leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach, his amber eyes distant.“We were ambushed,” he said. “Four days ago, in the Hollow Vale. Thirty-two Pale Scribe soldiers, a dozen cavalry from Darius’s household guard, and at least twenty archers on the ridges. They knew we were coming, and they knew exactly where to wait.”A cold silence fell across the table.“How could they know?” Sablen said sharply. “You traveled by the forest paths. Nobody patrols the Thornwood.”“That is precisely what troubles me.” Williams’s voice was grim. “The captain who led them mentioned a hawk. Dark feathers, white under the left wing.”“Shade,” Corwin whispered. His face had gone grey. “Shade carried my message.”“Did she return?” Williams asked.“Not yet. We assumed

Thorne looked away. The memory of Elvyn’s terrified face rose in his mind, the heat of the water below, his own arm drawn back.“I am not proud of that,” he whispered.“Nor should you be. But neither should you be ashamed. It is simply what happens when a gift this great is left untrained.” Williams sat back. “There will be times, in the months ahead, when mercy seems like weakness. When the enemy stands before you, helpless, and every instinct screams to end it. In some cases, you will be right to strike. In others, restraint will serve you better. Learning the difference is the work of a lifetime.”“How do I learn it?”“By practicing. By failing. By paying attention.” Williams smiled faintly. “There is a great deal I intend to teach you, Thorne. Most of it will be unpleasant.”“That is encouraging.”“I did not say it was meant to be.”A few of the others chuckled quietly, and the tension in the room eased a little. Thorne took a long, shaky breath and let it out slowly.“I still thi