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darkened, and he stalked back to the helm without another word.
    “Damn,” Gaven muttered. “I didn’t mean to—”
    “It’s been a long journey, Gaven,” Rienne said. “We’re all getting a little testy.”
    “At this rate, we’ll kill each other before the dragons have a chance.”

C HAPTER
5
    K auth stared out the window of another Orien coach as it rolled past an apparently endless series of trees. This time, though, Vor sat stiffly beside him, and Sevren and Zandar joked in the seat behind. Perhaps a dozen other passengers half-filled the enormous coach, watching the countryside drift slowly by or talking quietly with each other. Even a team of magebred horses pulled the coach at what felt to Kauth like a snail’s pace. The first five days outside of Varna, the view had been monotonous—farm after farm on the starboard side, and the broad expanse of Lake Galifar to port. The other side of the lake was too far away to see, except for the peaks of the Blackcaps jutting up in the middle. Leaving the unremarkable village of Niern that morning, though, the coach had finally turned away from the coast toward Greenheart, and fields soon gave way to the dense forest that made up the heart of the Eldeen Reaches.
    The trees crowded close in to the road, as if they resented the civilizing influence that had cleared away their brothers and sisters. Their leaves blocked the sun, shrouding the forest in a perpetual twilight. At times, branches scraped against the roof of the coach or broke against its sides. Wild animals watched the coach without fear—at one point, passengers on the port side had screamed in terror as an enormous Eldeen bear shambled up beside the coach, staring at them eye to eye. Other, stranger things flitted through the forest at a safer distance, some wearing more or less humanoid shapes, others more like beasts. Sometimes the trees themselves walked, shadowing the coach on its course.
    Around midday, the coach lurched to a stop. A nervous hum of whispered conversation rose immediately in the coach, and Kauthshot a glance at Vor. The ore looked at him, nodded, and heaved himself to his feet—plate armor and all. He strode to the front of the coach, and Kauth grabbed his crossbow as he got up to follow. “Wait.” Zandar grabbed his arm.
    “There might be trouble,” Kauth said, whirling to face the warlock. “I’m not going to let Vor face it alone.”
    “Neither are we,” Sevren said. He bent his bow and looped the string around the free end. “But Vor prefers to face trouble head-on.”
    “While we sneak around behind,” Zandar said, jerking his head toward the back of the coach. “This way.”
    Sevren followed, and Kauth trailed behind to the door at the back of the coach and out into the shadow-cloaked woods. The air was warm and heavy, quiet with the expectation of a summer thunderstorm. Vor’s voice, coming from in front of the coach, was muffled but clear.
    “This coach is under my protection,” he called out. “You will face me before you harm a single person aboard.”
    The only sound Kauth could hear in response was a harsh hiss that pulsed with anger.
    “It’s the Children of Winter,” Sevren whispered, and Zandar nodded.
    “What does that mean?” Kauth asked. The name sounded familiar to him—he thought perhaps it referred to one of the druidic sects of the Eldeen Reaches.
    “It means bugs,” Zandar said with a grin. “Lots of big bugs.”
    “Let’s move,” Sevren said.
    He and Zandar moved to opposite sides of the coach and skulked into the shadows of the trees. Kauth decided to stick with Sevren, trailing several yards behind. The shifter held an arrow nocked in his bow, and made only the slightest rustle as he moved. Kauth felt clumsy by comparison.
    Another rattling hiss made him start, then Sevren cried out. An arrow flew wild, and something yanked the shifter off his feet and into the air. The forest blocked Kauth’s view, so he broke into a run.
    He