As we approached, I saw Fire runes blazed around the Gorvekai as well, bright and red against the winterscape. I had only ever seen two Gorvekai in my life; they traveled to Kion during my apprenticeship, bringing with them the horses Mykaela and I would eventually love as Kismet and Chief. The latter whinnied softly at the sight of them, ears perked.

“Stay on your guard, Tea,” Kalen cautioned. “It’s rare for Gorvekai to allow strangers onto their soil. Not even asha and Deathseekers are permitted to stay long.”

“Except for Mykaela,” I whispered. “Kalen, they gave us Chief and Kismet in gratitude for something Mykkie had done for them. Surely they remember.”

Their leader’s gaze traveled to Chief, who was still nickering in delight. “What do you want from us?”

I cleared my throat. “We’ve come to talk about shadowglass.”

The others took a step back, hostility replacing their polite indifference. Some of the men and women reached for bows and axes. Still others wove familiar runes into the air, which glittered against the falling snow. Likh made a startled sound.

“Wait!” I talked hurriedly. “We mean no harm. The Faceless have infiltrated Mithra’s Wall, searching for the First Harvest.”

A snort echoed against the quiet; one of the men snickered. Soon, another joined in and then another; until laughter surrounded us. Even the leader, so unwelcoming only seconds before, allowed a grin to cross his harsh, bearded features.

“They will find nothing in Mithra’s Wall, Tea of the Embers. The First Harvest does not reside within those mountains. There is nothing to fear, and you may leave safe in that knowledge.”

But I was not one to give up so easily. “As a token of your gratitude, you once gifted my mentor, Lady Mykaela, two horses, one of whom is now my constant companion. Please, I beseech you—we are dying. Lady Mykaela is dying. The Dark that we draw is killing us. I came because the old legends speak of the People of the Shadow, who know the secrets to shadowglass. That’s who you are, aren’t you?”

The axes and bows rose again, trained on me this time. Kalen inched closer, but I stopped him, my gaze on their leader. “I understand your suspicions. You’ve protected it for thousands of years. But I know you too wish to keep shadowglass from the Faceless. I don’t want it in their hands either.”

The man said nothing. Kalen was rigid with tension. Behind me, Likh gulped noisily. But the man lifted his hand and uttered a word I did not understand. The others lowered their weapons.