“Not yet. But you will.” Williams leaned forward. “I have been studying the clover bloodline for thirty years. I know how the thirteen bonds fit together, how each one balances the others. The golden clover is the keystone. It binds the twelve lesser powers into a single harmonious whole. When it is properly mastered, it can reinforce any ward, any barrier, any defense.”“Then I could strengthen the river’s judgment?”“With enough training, yes. You could turn this entire island into a fortress that no army in the realm could breach.”“How long would that take?” Cael Dross asked.“Months. Perhaps years, to master completely. But we do not need mastery. We only need enough control to make a difference.” Williams looked around the table. “That is why I will begin training immediately.”“Immediately?” Sablen asked. “You have only just arrived.”“Time is short. Darius knows where we are. Elvyn knows what the boy can do. Every day we waste is a day they spend preparing.” Williams’s voice g

“And am I not?”“You are my sister,” Elvyn whispered. “You are the girl who jumped into boiling water to hold our mother’s hand. That girl is still in there somewhere. I know she is.”Something dark and tired flickered across Melissa’s thin face. Her grip, still locked around Tavish’s throat, loosened by a hair’s breadth.It was enough. Tavish drew a thin, ragged breath, and a single, hoarse sound escaped him, more a croak than a word.“D-daughter.”Melissa’s eyebrow rose a fraction. “What?”“I— have— a daughter,” the boy rasped, his lips cracked and bloodless. Tears streamed from his bulging eyes, running into his ears. “Four years old. Her name— Lenna. I was joking. I did not— did not mean— I am sorry. I am so sorry, Sorceress.”The silence stretched taut.“Lenna,” Melissa repeated, in a strange, flat tone. “A four-year-old daughter.”“Yes.”“And you stand in my valley, in front of my tiger, and make jokes about selling your own mother.”“I was afraid,” Tavish gasped. “I am still af

“Time,” Melissa said. “And patience. And a great many people who thought they could cheat a woman who lives alone in a valley full of the dead.”She walked slowly along the edge of the nearest hill of gold, trailing her fingers through the coins, and her face took on a distant, almost dreamy expression.“This crown,” she said, pausing beside a heap of jeweled circlets, “belonged to the Duke of Harrowmere. He hired me to break a curse on his firstborn son. When the curse was lifted, he decided my fee was excessive and sent forty men to kill me.” Her mouth curved faintly. “The wardens found them in the morning. The Duke sent the crown as an apology a week later, with his deepest regrets.”The soldiers stared.“This sword,” she went on, tapping a slim, jeweled blade lying across a pile of silver ingots, “was the property of General Voren of the Western Legion. He sought my aid in lifting a siege. I broke the siege, and he refused to pay. He is buried in the north corridor, with his men.”

“Perhaps more than that. I do not know.” Elvyn shivered. “But when he looked at me, I saw nothing human in his eyes. Only fire. I thought I was going to die.”“And yet you are here.”“Because his friend woke up at the last second and called him back.” Elvyn laughed bitterly. “A girl with a hole in her side and a stolen mantle saved my life. Think of that.”“A stolen mantle?”“The Widow’s Mantle, if the old brothers are to be believed. It healed her enough to speak.” Elvyn shook her head. “They are not ordinary opponents, sister. Two old masters of the Verdant Watch, guarding a vault full of relics, and a boy with a power I cannot begin to counter. If Lord Darius wishes to kill that boy, he will need more than gold.”“That is why I am going,” Melissa said calmly. “I want to see this boy. And I want to see the thing he carries.”“The Binding Shard?”“Among other things.” Her eyes gleamed. “I have been studying the clover bloodline for twenty years, Elvyn. I have read every record, decip

Harlan did not move. He stood with his cheek burning, his boots barely touching the stone, and Melissa’s cold grey eyes held his own so steadily that he forgot, for a moment, the first rule entirely. Then he remembered, and his gaze skittered down to the floor.“I am sorry, Sorceress,” he whispered. “I did not mean to question you.”“You did not question me,” Melissa said. “You corrected me. There is a difference, and I dislike both.”“It will not happen again.”“No.” She released his tunic, and he dropped to his heels with a stumble. “It will not.”The corridor was utterly silent. The soldiers had frozen in various stages of dressing. Doran had one boot on and the other clutched to his chest. Brannock stood with his sword half-drawn and his face set like stone, trying not to look at anyone. Tavish, who had been bruised the evening before, had both hands pressed protectively to his throat.“You have until the sun clears the eastern ridge,” Melissa said, in the same flat, cold voice. “