The scent of dew drifted lightly through the air as the sun slowly rose above the horizon. Amiri rode his clawvern along the stone road, where soft grass on either side bent gently with the wind. Before long, the murmur of a stream reached his ears. Lantern light shimmered ahead, and the closer he drew, the denser the crowds and coaches became along the road.

  “Anyone bound for Brunn, this way please.”

  A man in a flat cap raised his arm and waved. His white shirt was lightly dust-stained, suspenders pulled tight across his chest.

  “Travelers to Skeld and Tenerain, over here.”

  “The coach bound for Everward and Ashholm has arrived.”

  No sooner had he finished speaking than the thunder of claws crashed in like a storm. Iron-rimmed wheels ground against the stone road, sending dust spiraling into the air. The coaches burst around the corner and then pulled up hard before the crowd waiting in the street.

  Beneath the lantern light, people hurried to board and disembark from the coaches, jostling in their haste. The drivers tossed luggage onto the rear racks before snapping the reins. The thalons lunged forward. Wheels grated against the stone road with a harsh scrape, and dust billowed up, striking Amiri full in the face. He broke into a coughing fit at once.

  As he entered the waterfront district bathed in lamplight, rows of shops stood neatly aligned. The wooden walls of some had faded with time. Goods spilled out beyond their doorways. Coins clinked softly amid the murmur of bargaining voices. Amiri slowed his pace. The warm smoke from a meat grill drifted up and brushed the tip of his nose.

  He had not yet passed the next shop when the door was flung open with force.

  “This is a sword from Blomburg. I would never sell it at that price,” a stout man grumbled loudly before slamming the door shut again.

  After walking for a while, Amiri began to catch the scent of damp earth mingled with moss. Along the bank of the stream, a man sat fishing beside a brown dog that waited with quiet patience.

  All at once, he jolted and yanked the line up sharply. Yet instead of a fish, an old leather shoe dangled from the end of the hook. He paused for a moment, then worked it free and tossed it back into the water without a word.

  Dusk led Amiri into a narrow alley where coaches were packed so tightly there was scarcely room to walk. The lamplight in that quarter burned bright. A coach repair shop seemed to be at work day and night without pause. At the corner of the street, Amiri saw a man sitting with his head in his hands beside an empty bottle.

  Not far ahead, a dark wooden pen came into view. Several thalons paced in circles over grass trampled to ruin. Some lowered their heads to drink, while others tore at the carcass of a sheep. The sharp stench of dung hung thick in the air, stinging the nose. High, piercing cries rang out and echoed around them.

  “I have only three hundred Renn. Can you not lower the price for me?” a young woman said.

  Her gaze rested on a dust-colored thalon, powerfully built, with green eyes and a long, razor-sharp beak. It tossed its head hard to shake off the insects clinging to its face.

  “I’m afraid not, madam. This one is a Grande breed. I truly cannot lower the price,” the man replied.

  As Amiri stepped past, his clawvern kept its gaze fixed on the thalon, unblinking.

  At last, he arrived at an inn. Its dark stone walls were braced with old timber beams, and it was not much larger than an ordinary house. A soft orange glow from the windows showed that it was still open.

  He pushed the door inside and found a wooden counter set near the hearth. Tables and chairs, simply arranged, were encircled by shelves of books, adorned with an elegant chandelier and a fur rug underfoot.

  The fireplace crackled steadily, flames flickering as they gave off their warmth. The scent of aged wood hung in the air. A young girl glanced up at him while reading a thick book.

  “How many will be staying?” a voice called out. Amiri turned toward it.

  A middle-aged woman stood behind the counter, writing something down. Her hair fell to her shoulders, black threaded with faint streaks of gray.

  “Just one,” Amiri replied.

  “The room is thirty Renn per night,” she said evenly, as though it were a price everyone already knew.

  “That is too expensive for me,” Amiri said.

  “It is the standard rate, sir,” she answered with a quiet sigh, setting down her quill. “You will not find it any cheaper elsewhere.”

  All at once, Amiri felt a small hand touch his own.

  “Could you lower the price for him?” a gentle voice asked. “He is my friend.”

  Amiri turned, his eyes widening in confusion.

  A blonde girl with emerald-green eyes stood before him, hands planted on her hips, dressed in a blue pinafore.

  “Don't look at me like that,” the little girl said with a pout. “Where is my teddy bear?”

  Amiri shook his head, his brows drawing together.

  “It cannot be helped. If he is a friend of little Rose, then I suppose I must lower the price,” the woman said, her tone edged with reluctance.

  After that, the little girl took Amiri by the hand and led him out the door.

  “Just like Father said. Aunt Agatha always overcharges travelers who wander in,” Rose said, shaking her head.

  “But I am not lost,” Amiri protested.

  “That is exactly why you are lost. You have nowhere to go,” the girl replied with a teasing smile.

  “And where are you taking me?” Amiri asked.

  Rose did not answer. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the black clawvern following close behind.

  “Wait a moment. Who are you? You have been trailing us for quite some time,” Rose said.

  “This is Dusk. Dusk, this is Rose,” Amiri said, introducing his clawvern.

  Rose stepped toward it slowly and reached out her hand.

  The clawvern hesitated for a brief moment. It held Rose’s gaze, then lowered its head toward the girl.

  Rose gently laid her hand against its cheek.

  A strong breath rushed from its nostrils. The clawvern drew in a deep breath, and its blue eyes slowly drifted shut.

  “Nice to meet you, Dusk,” Rose said with a faint smile.

  A soft breeze passed through, and the first light of day danced across the girl’s hair.

  Amiri stood slightly stunned by the sight before him, unable to keep from smiling.

  Beneath the shade of a beech tree with fresh, pale green leaves, Amiri saw people raising houses from wooden frames. Some were setting up signposts at the corner of the street. A dark brown board bore the neatly lettered words “Main Street.”

  “Rose, where are you going?” another girl called out. She was walking with a white dog at her side.

  “I am heading home, Ida,” Rose replied.

  “And who is this guy?” Ida asked, frowning at Amiri.

  “He is my friend,” Rose said with a smile.

  Ida nodded, and the two girls waved goodbye to each other.

  All at once, laughter broke out behind them. Two boys came sprinting past, nearly colliding with a man who was carrying a crate of oranges. Two or three of them tumbled free and rolled across the ground.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Rose hurried to gather the fallen fruit and returned them to him. The man smiled his thanks.

  Rose then tugged Amiri forward with bright cheer, leading him past gray and white brick buildings set in alternating rows. Gentle sunlight filtered through the elm trees swaying slowly overhead. Birds called softly amid the flow of people and passing coaches.

  A wooden cottage came into view, standing amid green grass tinged with blue as it swayed in the breeze, dotted with soft blue blossoms. A blue butterfly alighted on the white picket fence, then fluttered past Rose’s face.

  A faint floral fragrance drifted through the air. Warm sunlight stretched across the stone courtyard. Two birds called to one another before settling side by side on a garden bench, as if about to begin a tender courtship.

  Then the sharp clang of metal rang out again and again, and the two birds took flight at once.

  An anvil and a small forge stood before the house, as though they were the heart of the place. A man lowered a piece of red-hot metal into a barrel of water. It hissed sharply on contact. The tang of heated iron filled the air, and a rush of steam swept up to strike Amiri and Rose across the face.

  “Father,” the girl called out.

  “Back already?” The man turned with a smile for his daughter, then met Amiri’s eyes. “Is this your friend?”

  “Yes. He wandered here by chance.”

  “I am Lewis, and this is Rose. Though I suppose you already know her,” he said, extending his hand.

  Amiri clasped it. The man was middle-aged, with blond hair and green eyes, tall and lean yet solidly built. Sweat soaked through his clothes from the heat.

  “Faelan,” Amiri introduced himself.

  “Welcome to Rhodes, Faelan,” Lewis said with a smile.

  “Rhodes?” Amiri raised a brow.

  “You have never heard of it?” Lewis let out a soft laugh. “Sit down. I will tell you about it.”

  He set a glass of water in front of Amiri.

  “I came here when the road was nothing but gravel and wild grass. Back then, only a handful of coaches stood waiting. Travelers poured in without end, and before long we needed a repair shop and a resident blacksmith. I named this place Rhodes, because it can carry you anywhere in the East.”

  Lewis said this as he glanced at Amiri, then continued,

  “And what about you? What have you come here to do?”

  “I am only passing through,” Amiri replied evenly.

  “And where do you intend to go?”

  “Thousand Lakes.”

  Lewis fell silent for a moment, then gave a quiet nod.

  “I have heard of the City of a Thousand Lakes, but I have never seen it with my own eyes.”

  Rose, who had been listening all along, spoke with her eyes shining.

  “There is a tale about a princess who dropped a blue jewel into one of the lakes. They say it is valuable enough to buy an entire castle.”

  Amiri fell into thought for a moment. He had heard the same story in one of Iris’s fairy tale books.

  The young man nodded and smiled at her, then turned to Lewis with a question.

  “And if Rhodes were to grow and become a city, what then?”

  “Then I would found a blacksmiths’ guild. Everward still needs a great many coach parts. And Tenerain as well,” Lewis replied with a smile.

  The sound of metal striking the ground drew steadily closer.

  A man came into view. He had dark hair and wore silver iron armor adorned with the emblem of a falling star. A longsword rested at his side. He glanced at Amiri for a moment, then turned and offered Rose a smile.

  The girl quickly slipped behind Amiri, her hand clutching the hem of his shirt.

  The man approached Lewis and bowed his head.

  “It is good to see you again, Lewis.”

  “And you as well, Sir Arrand,” Lewis replied with a courteous bow. “Rose, take your friend to find something to eat.”

  The girl nodded and hurriedly tugged at Amiri’s arm, her hand trembling slightly.

  Amiri rose and walked past the knight without meeting his gaze, yet Sir Arrand’s eyes followed him as he went.

  The girl pressed her lips together and walked straight ahead. But when she stole a glance at Amiri, her smile returned once more.

  “When I grow up, I’m going to learn to make really good coffee and open a breakfast shop. What do you think?”

  “That sounds nice,” Amiri replied with a smile.

  “Do you like warm milk?”

  “It’s my favorite.”

  Rose led Amiri to a stop before a shop with no sign above its door. Its muted stone walls were set with aged timber, and the sloping tiled roof cast a warm shadow across the windows. The moment they pushed the door open, the warmth of the hearth at the center of the room embraced them. Wooden tables and chairs circled the flames, candles glowed softly upon the tabletops, and dark wooden beams stretched long shadows across the floor.

  Several glasses stood upon the counter beneath taps protruding from metal pipes that descended from the ceiling and ran toward the back of the shop. Behind them, rows of unfamiliar bottles were neatly arranged, along with large oak barrels stacked one atop another.

  The fragrant steam of simmering soup drifted through the room, mingling with the murmur of voices and the clink of glass.

  Amiri and Rose took a seat at a table by the window, where the stream could be seen clearly.

  “Why do you want to go to Thousand Lakes?” Rose asked.

  “I’ve got someone to meet there.”

  “It is very far away. Do they mean that much to you?”

  Amiri did not answer, only gave a quiet nod.

  Rose rested her chin on the table and smiled faintly.

  “When you get to Thousand Lakes, promise me you’ll write and tell me about it.”

  Before Amiri could reply, an old man approached with a pair of steaming bowls of soup and two cups of warm milk.

  “We have not ordered anything yet,” Amiri said, looking puzzled.

  “They serve only one dish a day here,” Rose explained.

  “And the warm milk?” Amiri asked.

  “It is Rose’s favorite. I thought you might like it as well,” the old man said. “Lewis is well, I trust?”

  “Father is well, Uncle White. And what is today’s dish? It smells wonderful.”

  “Creamy pumpkin soup with ham hock, served with bread sticks. I hope you enjoy it.”

  “Thank you,” Rose said.

  Amiri gazed at the creamy orange soup, its surface crowned with a swirl of sour cream. The first spoonful touched his tongue, and a warm, velvety richness flowed down his throat, its gentle fragrance lingering in his mouth. He tore off a piece of bread, dipped it into the soup, and took a bite with the ham without hesitation. Before long, the bowl before him was empty.

  “Would you like another bowl?” Rose asked with a smile.

  “I’m fine.”

  As Amiri sipped his warm milk, voices drifted over from a nearby table.

  “This morning I saw Sir Arrand of Brunn here.”

  “I have no idea how Lewis will decide.”

  “I hope Rhodes joins Brunn. It’s closer to Aidengaard, and the trade routes could expand even further. Besides, you know Brunn produces plenty of barley. Rhodes might even brew and sell its own beer someday.”

  “But I prefer Skeld. It’s nearer the sea. We could trade more by ship. Don’t you like the wine from the island of Brittany?”

  “Whichever path he chooses, it will benefit Rhodes. The town will grow.”

  “Benefit? The carriages have already ruined the roads since the merchants started pouring in.”

  “Exactly. My son isn’t even thirteen yet, and he has to haul goods before dawn. Is that what you call good?”

  “We cannot avoid it. Brunn or Skeld, in the end a choice must be made.”

  “They are fighting over this place. Can you not see?”

  “And if war breaks out, where are we supposed to go?”

  No one answered.

  There was only the faint clink of spoons and the occasional crackle of the fire in the hearth.

  Amiri quickly paid the bill and led Rose out of the shop. He walked her home without another word. Along the way, a stranger passed them. He cast a sidelong glance at Rose, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, until she frowned and stared back at him.

  The man’s wavy blond hair stirred in the wind, his brown eyes steady and unreadable. He wore light-colored woven garments fastened with muted metal buttons that caught the sunlight in a sudden glint.

  When Amiri and Rose returned home, they found Lewis standing rigid, his eyes narrowed as he turned to look at his daughter.

  “Who was that man?” Rose asked.

  “Elwin Graf, son of Count Steffon of Skeld.”

  “And what does he want?”

  “An exclusive trade charter in exchange for protection of the roads and the harbor,” Lewis replied with a sigh. “As for Brunn, they wish to govern this place outright. He offered me gold, but in return you would have to marry one of his sons.”

  “And what will you do, Father?”

  “I have already given Elwin Graf my word.” Lewis gently stroked his daughter’s head. “At least I do not have to lose you.”

  Amiri watched the scene in silence. Something flickered through his gray-blue eyes before a faint smile slowly appeared.

  A white crescent moon rose against the deep blue sky, encircled by glittering stars. Amiri watched it from the window of his room on the second floor. Candlelight from the reading desk flickered across the stone walls. At the foot of the bed, a plain wooden chest rested upon a blue-patterned rug.

  A gentle breeze drifted through the open window. He gazed out over Rhodes, aglow as though the town itself never slept.

  His eyes wandered, unfocused and distant.

  How were Iris and Father faring?

  Amiri could only hope that he would see them again at Thousand Lakes. And if they were not there, he did not know where else he had left to go.

  He let himself fall back onto the bed and slowly closed his eyes.

  “Which of the stars were you born under?”

  A little voice rose in the darkness.

  “The Huntress,” the boy replied softly.

  “The thirteenth one?”

  Her eyes shone as though she could see it glowing before her.

  “Yes.”

  “And do you know which one I—”

  “The Scholar.”

  She frowned. “How did you know?”

  The boy gave a faint smile.

  “You are always asking questions.”

  The girl tilted her head slightly.

  “Mother once told me you were born when the snow was almost ready to melt. And when the sunlight returned, I was born soon after.”

  An explosion thundered, tearing the dream to shreds!

  Amiri jolted upright, the blast still ringing in his ears.

  Flames roared across the sky.

  He rushed to the window.

  Sparks drifted inward, and he could feel the heat against his skin.

  “When you get to Thousand Lakes, promise me you’ll write and tell me about it.”