Soraya shook away the horrors of what she’d just witnessed. “Saman,” she said, lowering herself to kneel before the old woman. Shim targeted her with a hard stare, but made no move to interrupt her, so she soldiered on. “We are here on urgent business. It has come to the attention of very powerful people that Seer has been plagued with a run of bad luck as of late.”

“What powerful people?” The woman wore a scowl, though Soraya was beginning to think that was just the resting state of her face.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the crowd once more, all activity grinding to a halt. Soraya’s gaze instantly flicked up toward the sky, dreading what she expected to find: another hopeless body tumbling to the ground. Except, this time, the sky was empty. She watched as the villagers parted in the entrance to the square, and anything that wasn’t nailed down was moved toward the edges of the space. “What’s happening?” Soraya hissed to Shim, but his only response was a finger pressed to his lips.

Soon enough, she found out what all the fuss was about. Soldiers, armed and armored and bearing the Finfallian crest, the mighty silver winged tree that seemed to penetrate the very fabric of the world with its gleam, passed into the square. One of them, his face dark-stubbled and youthful, shouted, “Don’t stop on our account. We are merely humble servants of the crown, your noble protectors. In return, we ask for nothing but the same loyalty.” As the man paused, the other soldiers spread out through the crowd. They had small sheets of parchment in their hands and began passing them out amongst the villagers. “If any of you have seen this man, please inform me personally. I am Commander Kahn Destin, and you can find me in Seerenguard Fortress.”

“Who is he?” someone asked. Soraya spotted a grizzled old man holding the piece of parchment he’d been given upwards to capture a ray of sunlight, squinting at what appeared to be an artist’s portrait of a dark-skinned man.

“An escaped criminal,” the commander said. “He is likely armed and very dangerous. Aiding or harboring such a man will render you complicit in his crimes.”

“Aye, but who is he? Does he have a name? Because there are rumors swirling through these parts like a fell wind.”

“What rumors?”

“That the Fire Eater has escaped. That Finfalla is about to burn to the ground.”

“Ah, I didn’t realize that word had reached this far east. I can confirm that the man we are searching for is one Cainan, commonly referred to as the Fire Eater. But Finfalla will not burn. With your help, he will be brought to justice once more. And this time, I suspect, the king will not be so lenient. All hail King Artemus Vedran, First of His Name!”