“We are of the Shadow,” he said. “In your tongue, I am called Agnarr. In mine, it means the Edge of a Sword. We’ve shared bread with Mykaela of the Sorrows, and we extend our welcome to Tea of the Embers and her companions.” His gaze moved to Likh, who was still shivering. At another gesture from Agnarr, the other warriors stepped forward, weaving. The bursts of fire they created were warmer than what most asha could channel. “Our home lies near the mountain. We shall speak there.”

The Gorvekans’ village turned out to be a wooden settlement protected by a wall of runes—Fire, Ice, and Shield—carefully maintained by watchful guards. Children scampered about, pausing to stare at us while men and women hovered near campfires. There were dark-skinned and light-skinned Gorvekai, red- and yellow- and dark-haired. The delicious smell of cooking meat filled the air, and my stomach growled, an indication that I had eaten little that day.

“For a small community, they sure do have a lot of runebinders,” Likh murmured.

“I had the opportunity of talking with Lord Garindor before we left Istera,” Khalad said. “If they’re the People of the Shadow, then he says they’re the direct descendants of the people who lived around the same time as Blade that Soars ruled, and they’re supposedly stronger in the runic arts than most. But the Gorvekai’s isolation may be a problem, if it promotes inbreeding.”

“Not quite,” said one of the women guiding us toward the largest stone enclosure in the small town. “We travel the world frequently to trade our runeberries, and we take partners from kingdoms as far as Kion and Drycht. Look around; we are a varied people, and for good purpose. To live within our own lineage weakens the alchemy of our hearts. To survive, we exchange heartsglass with all.”

“But you wear no heartsglass,” Khalad said.

The woman laid a hand against her chest. “We have no need for glass trinkets to see our own, honored Forger.”

The largest building lay in the shadow of Stranger’s Peak, the tallest mountain among the kingdoms. Kalen stared up at the imposing ridge with an expression I’d learned to recognize. “Why are you staring at the mountain the same way you stare at bamieh?”

His head whipped around so fast I was surprised it didn’t come off his neck. “I don’t look at bamieh like that!”

“Your mouth waters every time I mention fried dough.”

He scowled. “The Gorvekai harvest the best quality runeberries atop Stranger’s Peak. I tried the wine distilled from it once. It was…more than pleasant. And very expensive.”

I rolled my eyes. “Perhaps if you scale the mountain, they’ll give you a sip. Stranger’s Peak is not a sight everyone gets to see up close, and you’re thinking about runeberries?”

“It was really good wine, Tea.”