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saw Seethan’s great wings falter and fold, saw the old thorrod tip over onto his back. Saw the burning arrow jutting from his chest. As Seethan plunged toward the snow, flames engulfed him. By the time he hit the ground, his whole body was on fire.
    Theeta faltered, letting out an anguished screech of her own. Below, the leader of the elk-men spurred his mount over Seethan’s burning body and drew back his spear, aiming it upward, directly at Theeta’s heart. Before Tarlan could bring his own spear to bear on the enemy, another arrow shot through the air directly in front of Theeta’s face. He tugged at her feathers and she rolled aside. The arrow whipped past her beak, slicing through the upper part of Tarlan’s right arm.
    Pain seared through him. Losing his grip, he slipped from Theeta’s back and plummeted toward the ground. As the white hump of a snowdrift rose up to meet him, all he could think of was Mirith, cold and alone in the mountain cave.
    He’d failed her after all.

CHAPTER 4
    I t’s entirely the wrong color,” said Elodie, tossing aside the sample of blue silk she’d selected from the market stall.
    â€œWhat do you mean?” sighed Lady Sylva Vicerin. “It’s blue, isn’t it?”
    â€œBut it’s not the right blue. I want something more . . .” Elodie waved her hand impatiently.
    â€œLike the sky?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œLike a river?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œLike what then, Elodie?”
    â€œI’ll know it when I see it!”
    Elodie marched across the castle court to another row of stalls. A strong breeze caught the bolts of silks and linens, turning them into pennants. Sylva scurried in her wake.
    â€œWhat about this one?” Sylva suggested, pointing to a roll of sapphire cloth on a nearby stall.
    â€œIt’s cotton,” said Elodie, curling her lip. “Don’t you want me to look nice at the banquet? Do you want Lord Vicerin to look like a miser?”
    â€œMy father says he might have to cancel it,” said Sylva.
    â€œWhat?” This was terrible news. Vicerin banquets were grand affairs, meticulously planned and talked about far and wide. Elodie had been dreaming about it for weeks. “He can’t do that. The seamstresses are waiting to start on my dress. They’ve only got three days to make it and—”
    â€œElodie, I’m sorry. For once, my father has other things on his mind.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Elodie found it hard to imagine anything more important than a banquet.
    Sylva led her into a quiet space between two stalls. “Don’t tell anyone, but I heard Father say the king’s army has reached the Northwood Dale.”
    â€œOh, that’s leagues away. Anyway, don’t we have people out there to stop them?”
    â€œYes. But Father says that the crown troops already control lots of the main borderways. He thinks our allies are spread too thinly.” Sylva’s gray eyes were serious. “Elodie, these traders were lucky to get through—next month, there may be no market at all. Who knows, if the fighting goes on much longer, Castle Vicerin itself might be under siege.”
    Elodie looked up at the red stone walls and the battlements running along the top. The stalls huddled beneath them seemed very small. For all the color and noise, the market looked ramshackle, as if it had been set up in haste, and might be taken down at any moment. Several of the traders even wore light armor; Elodie didn’t recall ever seeing that before. Did they really think King Brutan’s men would bother attacking a few trestle tables?
    â€œI don’t know why everyone worries so much,” she said. “We’re safe enough here. Anyway, Lord Vicerin always sets things right.”
    She picked up a length of shimmering turquoise silk and draped it around her neck. “What do you think? Is it too green?”
    â€œI