The map depicted not just the continent of Makona, but other land masses across the Kalafran ocean, swaths of earth Anji had never seen. They’d been painted in staggering detail. Lakes and rivers and inclines were marked in different colors. Makona’s borders were clearly drawn in bloodred ink, the countries inside their bounds shaded in various hues: Dorodad far to the southwest, its coastline jagged and smattered with tiny islands. Above it Repulan, the narrow strip of thick forest and tangled rivers that stretched to meet Yem, which expanded far into the north and east and devoured most of Makona’s central region—the largest country by far. Under Yem marshy Eltavan, cut nearly in two by the vast Blackwater Gulf. And past Yem’s crooked coast the island chain of Kardisa, a collection of volcanoes and coral reefs in the middle of the Kalafran Ocean.

Anji leaned in closer, and could just make out what appeared to be scorch marks up and down the cloth, some bisecting lines representing roads, others circling smudges depicting cities and towns—more in the blank spots between.

The Goat picked up the hammer and held it loose in his curled fingers. He checked the mountains towering in the distance, the span between the base of the nearest peak and their camp in the foothills, then set the stone down on the map. Anji had to admit it looked to be exactly where they were. She watched, chewing on a nail now as he aimed the hammer, and—

“Gilochtertetrona ammn meean.”

—struck it down onto the stone. The steel met rock with a hollow smack. A flash emitted from the bottom in a perfect circle, burning a brownish-orange ring the exact size of the stone into the map where they were. The ring smoldered for a moment, tiny fissures of smoke curling from its edge, then darkened to black.

The Ox kept her visage trained on Anji, but Anji was too captivated to care. The stone had burned their location into the fabric, and Anji imagined the circle appearing on another piece of cloth somewhere out there in the mossy hills, past the net of streams veined across the tundra’s southern reach.

Another circle appeared on the map. This one far off, but not so distant Anji felt at ease. The Bear could be along in a day on a good horse, which Anji didn’t doubt she had.

“Sheertop,” the Ox muttered. “We can be there before nightfall tomorrow if we hurry.” She rounded on Anji. “You’ll have to sleep in the saddle.”

The words barely registered to Anji. She stared at the map once more, something clicking into place in her mind.

“That’s how you knew where to follow the Hawk,” she said, pointing at the map.