Through the glare, Tanin could discern a figure walking forth, clad in white. It looked like a ghost or goddess of starlight.

The light slowly faded, revealing the figure. She was a young woman, a few years younger than him, clad in a white tunic hemmed in gold. Her eyes were large and green, and a black braid hung across her shoulder, tied with a golden ribbon. A headdress of golden olive leaves and topaz gemstones crowned her head. The light seemed to come from an amulet that hung around her neck. When she tucked the talisman under her tunic, the last rays faded, leaving only sunlight to fall into the alleyway. The noon sun blazed overhead, yet its light seemed dull after the splendor Tanin had seen.

The young woman stared at them, eyes widening. When she spoke again, she spoke in their tongue, her accent thick.

"You are northerners?" She looked down at their fur cloaks, then back up at their faces. "From across the sea?"

Maev growled. "How dare you banish those demons? I was going to slice them all. I was going to pummel them into mush. I was—"

"Maev, for pity's sake!" Tanin interjected. He shoved down his sister's blade and turned back toward the young woman.

By the stars, he thought. She's . . . she's . . . well, she's beautiful.

A strange tingling filled his blood. For many years of hiding in the canyon, dreaming of Ciana's face over and over, Tanin rarely talked to women—aside from his sister, whom he often wished to bury under a boulder. At the sight of this stranger, he suddenly felt awkward, too tall and gangly. His eyes strayed down to her body, which was slim and pressed against her tunic, and he quickly looked away, feeling even more self-conscious.

"I . . . I mean we . . ." He cleared his throat. "Yes, we're from the northerners. I mean—the north. We are. From there."

Maev rolled her eyes. "Oh in the name of sanity. Does your brain have to turn to mush every time a pretty girl is around?" She shoved him back. "Yes, we're northerners. Who are you?"

The young woman gazed at the two, eyes wide, as if she wasn't sure whether they were warriors or jesters.

"You're not traders, are you?" Her voice dropped. "You . . . you came for him. For Prince Sena."

Tanin puffed out his chest, seeing a chance to reclaim some dignity. "All's in a day's work, really. We're used to saving people. I—"

His breath left him and his cheeks burned when the young woman leaped forward and embraced him. His heart thumped, and he patted her head, more joy and fear than ever coursing through him.

"Thank you," the young woman whispered. She pulled away, leaving Tanin feeling incredibly cold and tingly, and embraced Maev next. "Thank you for coming."