By the time Liv and her friends had crossed the market square and began making their way up the streets of The Hill, most of the excitement had been left behind. The Lower Banks children turned back rather than risk the neighborhoods of well-to-do merchant shops and the manors of Baron Henry’s knights.

Liv couldn’t help but glance at the manor her father had purchased: no smoke rose from either of the brick chimneys, and she wondered whether he’d sold the house when she’d left for Coral Bay. He certainly hadn’t been back since.

There was the Old Oak, where she’d tried to guide Matthew through the complexities of Vædic case structures and the conjugations of irregular verbs. The Temple of the Trinity, where Emma and Triss both had been married. The home that had once belonged to Alban and Mirabel Cooper, back when the former mayor had hosted Liv and Airis ka Reimis for a luncheon. Gaunt’s Books, where Jurian had taken her shopping, and next to it the dressmaker’s shop. There was even a new gown in the window, in beautiful shot silk taffeta from Lendh ka Dakruim, shimmering green and gold for the bodice and overskirt, with a brilliant shade somewhere between copper and bronze for the sleeves and underskirt.

“When I was a little girl,” Liv confessed to Rosamund, who rode at her side, “I used to gaze in that window and imagine myself in one of those dresses. And then by the time Julianne and Henry wanted to adopt me, the idea of actually wearing one was so terrifying that I brought the plainest dresses I could to Coral Bay.”

“You should buy one,” Sidonie advised. “Or if you don’t, I will. Places like that aren’t exactly at the top of the list when people think about where to spend money with a war coming. Your blacksmiths will be doing great business, and your leatherworkers, fletchers -”

“Taverns,” Rose broke in. “Whores.”

“Anything an army needs,” Sidonie continued. “Or a soldier can waste their money on. But if you want to throw some money around to the luxury shops, you can help them stay in business long enough to survive a war-time market. You’ll want them after, when peace comes.”

“That’s assuming I can even access my accounts,” Liv said, with a sigh. She turned her horse up the final street that led directly to the open gate of Castle Whitehill. “I haven’t tried since we left Coral Bay. Now Benedict has the guilds under his thumb, the Most Noble Bankers may not want to do business with us.”

“You might be surprised,” Sidonie mused. “There’s a lot of money to be made right now, and I doubt they’d want to give up half of it.”

“If we had half the money Benedict does, I’d feel quite a bit better,” Liv grumbled.

The soldiers standing watch at the castle gates bowed at her approach, and the city guards peeled off from their escort duty to head back down the hill to their regular duties. There was a tromping of boots and a rattling of armor as someone came rushing down the stairs, and then James emerged from the castle courtyard.

“We half expected you to fly in on some strange bird again, m’lady,” her former trainer called out, and Liv couldn’t help but break into a grin. The rage over what had been done to the Cotter family was still simmering down low in her belly, but it was good to be welcomed by a familiar face.

“No, we decided to use the horses the Duchess was kind enough to leave for us,” Liv answered. “And a good thing we did. Piers told us there were raiders come over the mountains, but he didn’t say how close to the city they’d come. We found the Cotter farm burning as we rode in this morning. I need to tell Julianne and Henry. Are they in the great hall?”

James nodded. “They’ve kept a bit of food aside, since there was a bird from the waystone yesterday. No one was quite certain when you’d get here, or how many you’d have with you, so your mother cooked enough to host the entire north. Come on in and we’ll have the horses seen to.”

They guided the horses through the open gate and into the courtyard, which had been mostly cleared of snow, leaving only frozen mud behind. The Eld drew a few stares, but it was Ghveris that Henry’s warriors couldn’t help but stare at.

“Pardon me, m’lady,” James asked, once Liv had swung down out of her saddle and handed over the reins. He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Your guard in the heavy armor. Is he - I mean, I can’t actually see a face under there. Is he Eldish or something?”

“Ghveris is an Antrian,” Liv explained, loud enough for all the nearby armsman to hear her. “And he has sworn his loyalty to me. That’s all you need to know, unless he chooses to tell you more himself.”

She waited only long enough for Rosamund and Sidonie, and then both Keri and her great uncle, who’d rode in behind the three women, to all dismount before she led the way across the courtyard to the keep and the great hall. Liv would have preferred to go to the kitchens first, to see her mother and Gretta again, but what had happened at the Cotter farm couldn’t wait.

The great keep doors were pulled open before Liv could reach for them herself, revealing Archibald, both Thora and Sophie, and to Liv’s surprise, Basil, the Steward of Acton House in Freeport, with white hair just as wild as ever but a bit less weight around his middle. There was a third woman, but it took Liv a moment to recognize Melody, the dressmaker that Julianne had commissioned during their stay in the capital seven and a half years before, now dressed as a lady’s maid.

“Welcome, Lady Livara,” Archibald greeted her, making a perfect bow, as always. “Your party is expected, though we didn’t know precisely when you’d arrive. The family is awaiting you in the great hall, with a great many maps spread across the high table. We’ll take your cloaks-” the old man let out a strangled, choking gasp at the sight of Ghveris contorting his massive body to get into the foyer, which required an odd combination of ducking his head and turning nearly sideways.

“Thank you,” Liv told him. “We’ll need guest rooms for my great-uncle, Lord Eilis of House Däivi, as well as Lord Inkeris of House Bælris and Lady Sidonie Corbett. Lady Rosamund can share my rooms, if that is more convenient. I don’t want to put any strain on the staff.”

Winter cloaks were shaken free of snow, gloves peeled off, and the wet things piled into the waiting arms of the lady's maids, who Liv knew would see them delivered to the laundry maids.

“We may actually need to put our two Elden guests together as well,” Basil remarked, exchanging a glance with Archibald. “Given we’re packed tight as a barrel of fish. But you let us see to that, Lady Livara, and head on in. I’ll make certain the footmen bring more hot food.”

“And everything you need for bathing will be prepared down at the hot springs,” Thora spoke up. “Ladies first, of course.”

Liv couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, all of you. I imagine there’s quite a story as to how Basil and Melody came to be here, when I last saw you both in Freeport, and I hope to hear it later today. Perhaps over a nice pot of tea. But for now, there are things we need to speak about over that pile of maps Archie mentioned, so I hope you’ll all excuse us.”

When the stewards and maids had made their bows and curtseys, Liv inclined her head to acknowledge them, then turned and led her companions through the corridor to the heavy double doors at the entrance to the great hall. A different set than she’d broken, when Jurian had first taught her to cast a spell, but just as heavy.

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Keri stepped ahead of Liv, raised both arms, set his palms against the doors and shoved them open, then stepped aside. Liv met his eyes as she passed and flashed him a grateful smile; if she’d had to do it, she would have struggled to get just one open.

Julianne, Henry, Matthew, Beatrice, Master Grenfell, and to Liv’s surprise, Professor Lia Every were all gathered around the high table. At the opening of the doors to the hall, Matthew, Triss and Julianne all rose from their seats, and before Liv had half made it down the center aisle, she found herself caught up in a pair of enthusiastic embraces, first from Triss and then from her husband.

“Welcome back,” Matthew said, somehow lifting her off her feet with only one arm. Triss, on the other hand, looked a bit pale, and Liv was surprised to see tired circles under her sister-in-law’s eyes.

“Let me get to the table at least,” Liv complained, though she wasn’t really angry. Matthew set her down, and she approached until she’d reached the place just below the high table where petitioners would usually address Julianne and Henry.

“Julianne Summerset, Duchess of Whitehill, and Henry Summerset, Baron Whitehill, I present to you Eilis ka Väinis kæn Däivi, my great-uncle and brother to my grandmother,” Liv began. “He’s come to coordinate on behalf of House Däivi’s incoming troops.”

Despite the long ride through the snow and the city, the older Elden man cut an elegant figure when he swept a bow in the Lucanian style, and when he addressed his hosts his speech was only lightly-accented.

“It is an honor to meet the family who took my grand-niece under their care,” Eilis said, straightening. “Two hundred of my house’s best warriors should arrive within the week under the command of my daughter Miina. We look forward to fighting beside you.”

Julianne smiled, and Liv thought that she could see the moment her adopted mother’s shoulders began to relax. “You are most welcome, Lord Eilis, and your daughter will be as well, when she arrives. My husband Henry and my son Matthew will be commanding here at Castle Whitehill and at the south pass, respectively.” She indicated each man in turn, and then continued making introductions. “My daughter in law, Beatrice. Our Court Mage, Master Grenfell. And Professor Every, lately of the college at Coral Bay.”

Liv wanted to ask the professor why she was in Whitehill, but years of experience on the other side of that table had taught her that it wasn’t yet time. “I’m certain you remember Inkeris ka Ilmari kæn Bælris, who saved my life in Freeport.”

“Of course,” Baron Henry said, from his wheeled chair. “It is good to see you again, Lord Inkeris. You are always welcome in Whitehill. I only wish we hadn’t disappointed you at the great council all those years ago.”

Keri leaned on his spear, butt planted on the stone floor of the hall, and gave Henry a nod of respect in return. “I’ve spent much of the past year across the ocean in Varuna, with Liv’s father,” he explained. “But House Bælris will send troops to fight with Whitehill. You have my word on that.”

“You’ve all met Sidonie and Rosamund before, of course,” Liv said, and her two friends offered curtsies to Julianne and her husband. “Our friend Arjun is still in Varuna, treating a wounded patient -” she decided not to even get started on the fact that the patient in question was a wounded, magic-wielding wyrm over a thousand years old. “- and I’ll get to Wren in a moment. My final companion is Ghveris, a Great Bat formerly in service to the old gods. If you don’t recognize his name, you may recall the title he was given after his last battle: The Beast of Iuronnath. You’ll have to excuse him; Lucanian wasn’t a language at the time he was last awake, and his Vakansa is a bit archaic - but he’s learning.”

With a puff of steam and a grinding of gears, Ghveris’s deep voice echoed throughout the hall. “Honor to meet you.”

Liv blinked. She hadn’t taught the war-machine that particular phrase - perhaps Wren had?

“You mean he’s actually the one out of the stories Gretta used to tell?” Matthew asked, leaning across the table from where he’d resumed his seat. “The one with the claws of a bear, the jaws of a jaguar, and the wings of an eagle?”

“When he was dying, they took him to a place like the Foundry,” Liv explained. “Arjun and Keri found him frozen and dreaming beneath the Tomb of Celris. However, we can speak of that later. We found the Cotter farm burned on our way in this morning, and every member of the family hanged. There was a sign painted with the word ‘treason’ on it at the foot of the bodies. I sent Wren to track down the cowards who did it.”

“Baron Galleron Erskine’s raiders,” Matthew snarled. “They’ve been burning farms all up and down the valley.”

Erskine. The king’s spymaster, and the same man who’d tried to kill Liv at Coral Bay while Jurian and Genevieve were fighting. The man who’d tracked them into the mountains north of Valegard with Bennet Howe and his troops.

“I know him,” Liv said, clenching her fists before she could stop herself. “Once Wren’s found their camp I’ll put an end to it.”

“He has somewhere between sixty and eighty scouts, as near as my sources can discover,” Master Grenfell spoke up, for the first time. “We all want to see them caught, Liv, but it’s going to take a substantial force to pin them and one place without significant losses.”

Does Galleron Erskine have six burning wings? Liv wanted to ask. Is he going to throw blizzards and columns of ice at me, or hordes of corpses, or even carnivorous, poisonous living plants? Instead, she held her tongue, with a good deal of effort.

“Even flying, it will likely be nightfall before Wren’s found anything and made it back to Whitehill,” Julianne said. She always seemed to know just what to say to lower the tension in a room, and when to say it. It was something Liv had always admired about the older woman.

“Find yourselves chairs, and get something to eat from these platters,” the duchess continued. “Henry and Matthew can explain the current situation, and then we can go from there.”

Liv allowed Keri to pull a chair out for her; he took a seat at her left hand, while Rose took the one at her right. There were half a dozen platters - four of which were being used to weigh down the corners of an enormous hide map of the Aspen valley - and once the covers were lifted, the smell of sausage, bacon, potatoes, fresh bread, and fruit preserves billowed out. Liv felt her stomach rumble, and didn’t shy away from loading her own plate and tearing into the food while Henry talked. The pork even had a bit of mana in it, and she wondered whether Emma and her father had taken a wild boar near Bald Peak.

“There are only two places anyone can move an army in or out of the Aspen Valley,” Henry began. He’d gotten himself a wooden rod for pointing, since he could no longer stand at the table, and now he tapped it on the map in two places. “Here, at the north pass to Al’Fenthia, and here, the southern pass into Duke Falkenrath’s lands around Courland. We don’t need to worry about the north pass, thanks to our Elden friends.” The Baron nodded to both Liv’s great-uncle and to Keri.

“That leaves the south pass,” Matthew said, “south of Fairford Village. We’ve spent the past year building a wall across the pass, just past the Sign of the Terrapin, along with a barracks.”

“And we saw that you’d put a guard on the waystone at Bald Peak,” Liv said. “I left Piers and his men a present there, by the way - some fortifications made of ice. But I really think we need to build a more permanent defense, and set a garrison to keep Benedict’s soldiers from trying to sneak in there.”

“They’re already getting those raiders over the mountains on foot,” Triss spoke up, after having remained silent for quite a while. “And not just here in Whitehill, either. They’ve been harassing my father at Valegard, and my brother Baudwin up at Gold Creek.”

“Gold Creek? That’s a bit on the nose, isn’t it?” Rose asked, with her eyebrows raised.

“Baudwin’s never had much imagination,” Triss said, with a sigh.

“In any event,” Master Grenfell said, “my sources in Freeport have given me a list of which barons will be supporting Benedict’s new ‘Royal Army.’ It’s less than we might have feared, but more than we’d hoped.”

“It astounds me how many people are willing to lick the boot of a tyrant king,” Professor Every grumbled from one end of the table.

“It includes one name that may be somewhat difficult for you, personally, Liv,” Matthew said. Liv set her fork down and frowned, trying to think of who Matthew might be talking about. One of the professors from Coral Bay, perhaps? Surely Archmagus Loredon wouldn’t have gotten himself involved.

“I can’t be completely certain of that yet,” Master Grenfell protested. “My sources were somewhat unclear on that particular family.” His sources, of course, would be the Baron of Ashford, Grenfell’s nephew Isaac, Liv knew.

“No, his troops are already confirmed making camp for the winter at Courland,” Matthew insisted. “I’ve got it from my own people. Liv, House Talbot’s thrown in on Benedict’s side. Cade’s going to be fighting against us. I’m sorry.”