Skul Drek clicked his tongue twice. “I do not know, but…some have felt close.”

Close could mean the damn fjord beyond the wall, for all I knew. “This is why your ravagers hunt the Stav. To slaughter them before anyone can stumble onto the Wanderer’s bones.”

“And to leave fewer warriors for the Thief King.”

“What if you’re wrong?” I said. “What if the Jorvan king is hunting only for soul bones to build his army? He rarely keeps them for himself. You might be slaughtering people for nothing.”

“So sure?”

I added another bone to the glow of Hundur’s hands. “No, I’m not sure, and that is the reason I’m asking you.”

“Should the Thief King find the power he seeks, those he has bound to new souls will bend the knee to their first king.”

“I don’t understand.”

Skul Drek hissed like I’d angered him. “The Wanderer’s soul commands all craft and it will bow to him. Soul bones are crafted, are they not? Manipulated and filled with a melder’s touch.” Skul Drek’s eyes turned a poisonous sort of red. “No crafted soul will be free of their king and all will bend the knee to the new Wanderer.”

Shit. King Damir was not simply crafting Berserkirs.

He was crafting an indestructible empire where no one could stand against him.

“I want to find the bones.” I lifted my gaze to Skul Drek. “I want to find them, so he never does.”

He cocked his head. “To hunt the bones you must take them. You will be hunted in turn.”

“Then stop.” My voice came sharp and edged in ice. “You are the one hunting and attacking us. Stop doing so and give me time to help.”

Mists billowed, hiding his eyes for a breath, then Skul Drek stood a pace away. “Not all is as it seems.”

Gods, I didn’t know how to do this. To find the bones, I needed to be connected to the dark mirror land. I needed to meld. Should I meld, Skul Drek seemed content to continue attacking as penance.

“Time grows short.” The assassin took a step away. A skein of darkness flicked the strange tether between us again. “I may find ways to stay my sword. Will you keep your word?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

His cold grin sliced through the shadows. “I suppose we shall see.”

The final threads tugged the hooked claw onto Hundur’s knuckles and, as though a rope fastened around my middle, I was pulled away.

I took another sip of the pungent tea. It tasted a great deal like sap and tree bark, but it softened the furrow of Roark’s brow and he eased back on the bench. If not for the Sentry insisting I’d exhausted myself from the use of my craft, I was certain Damir would’ve forced me to parade around the luncheons and game yard.