The priest put Daren’s son on the butcher’s scale and asked the crowd to sing.Orin was too frightened to cry. He sat with his knees drawn against his chest, one small hand gripping the wooden horse Daren had carved during the winter. Beneath the brass pan, a golden flame burned without consuming its oil. Each time it brightened, the boy’s shadow shortened.Daren pushed through the villagers with a sack of barley on his shoulder.“Take the grain.”Collector Veskar glanced at him. “Your household owes seven measures.”“There are nine here.”“Grain satisfied with last year’s tithe.”Two temple guards lowered their spears. Daren stopped between their points. He had buried his wife in frozen ground six months ago. He had promised her that their son would never enter a battlefield.He had not thought to include the village square.Veskar touched the scale. Orin flinched as gold spread through the veins of his wrist.“This year, the mountain requires a gifted child.”“He has no gift.”“The

The watchtower flashed twice more before Daren saw the woman on its roof.She held a polished shield above her head, catching the last sunlight. Below her, a dozen people struggled up the hillside with bundles strapped across their backs.Refugees.Daren felt foolish for the relief that almost brought him to his knees.“White riders,” the woman shouted. “South road. Six of them.”“Come down,” he called. “We’re going north.”“To the fort?”“Yes.”Her shield lowered. “Then you’ll need someone who knows which stones fall.”Her name was Brida. She had been Hearthfast’s quarry master before the garrison abandoned it. One of the refugees carried her tools; another carried a child asleep inside a flour basket.By the time they reached the pine woods, Daren led twenty seven people.He knew only a few of their names.That would have to change if they survived the night.At a fork, Brida offered to carry Orin. Daren almost refused out of habit, then saw how his own trembling arms frightened the

Nobody drank from the spring.That was the first thing Daren asked, and Brida answered before he finished.“I knocked the cups away.”Golden threads swam beneath the surface of the trough. They gathered around Orin when he approached, bending toward his branded wrist like grass in a strong wind.Daren moved him back.The threads loosened.“It’s searching for him,” Selka said.“Through our water?”“Through anything joined to the mountain’s gathering works.”He looked toward the keep. They had restored the fort’s heart, and something beyond its walls had noticed.Inside the hall, the ember stag stood taller. Its antlers no longer scraped sparks from the floor. Fire moved beneath its hide in the pattern of flowing water.“What are you?” Daren asked.“Keeper of the common flame.”“A name.”The creature hesitated, as though the question troubled it more than hunger had.“Enn.”“Enn, your spring is hunting my son.”The stag lowered its head.“The high channel remains open.”“Close it.”“I h

Orin listened without interrupting while Daren explained where he was going.That was worse than crying.The boy sat beside the hearth with his wooden horse in his lap. Enn’s fire warmed the stones behind him. Beneath his sleeve, the brand had begun to glow again.“Will you be back before it hurts?” he asked.Daren knelt.“I’ll try. Brida will stay with you. Selka has shown her how to cool your wrist.”“You said you’d tell me.”“I’m telling you.”Orin considered that, then pushed the wooden horse into Daren’s hand.“Bring him back too.”Daren put it inside his coat.He left by the western goat path with Selka and Harl. Brida stayed to strengthen the gate, and Tovin watched the ridge. They could not afford to send anyone else.Selka had taken Perren’s sword. She carried it without looking at the hilt.Fenlow lay below the southern orchards, close enough for smoke from Bracken to stain its morning sky. Harl led them through irrigation ditches to a low house beside the communal granary.

Daren caught Harl’s belt as the wall came down.Stone struck his shoulder. He fell backward, dragging the cooper clear while Selka swept Orin away from the doorway. The hound tore free of the rubble with Harl’s severed hand still between its teeth.Iven screamed her father’s name.“Keep back!” Daren shouted.The bronze creature shook its head. The whistle was lodged across its jaw, spilling gold through the cracks in its mouth. It clawed at the floor, trying to reach the sound inside itself.Daren saw his chance.“Brida! The pond!”She understood before anyone else.They had diverted the spring’s golden pressure into the horse pond. Mud had crusted over it, hiding the heat beneath.Brida seized a torch and struck the hound across the muzzle.It turned toward her.She ran.Daren followed, carrying a fallen roof beam. Every step sent pain through his chest. The hound overtook Brida at the pond’s edge and leaped.She dropped flat.Its front legs broke through the crust.Gold burst around