Reshk, Capital of Canrish;
One month before the Kraah attack on the Easthaven Mageguild.
Leneah Thorn gazed out over the rooftops of Reshk’s Guild District, watching heat shimmer and dance over coppery tiles. The Crow’s Nest—a narrow tower at the center of this Ivory Order safe house—was where she went when she needed to think. And today, she had more than usual to fill her mind. Brennan Hawke’s letter rested on her lap, brown parchment lost in the light cotton of her skirt. The letter was shorter than usual.
“Dearest—Something big is happening, stirrings and voices in the wind, but nobody knows what. Look to the lady for her counsel. Let her know we need eyes in the north now more than ever. And dear Source, if I could only tell you this in person—forgive me. I would have spoken these words with you in my arms if I could have, but we don’t have that luxury. News of your mother is confirmed. She has been with the Source for thirteen years now, but she leaves behind a son, with no confirmed whereabouts or records of death, so we must assume he is alive. My love, you have a brother. Younger than you by no small amount…we will find him, I promise. Remember, eyes in the north. I love you.”
She choked back tears for the hundredth time, a warm breeze whispering over her cheek like a gentle touch. She’d known somehow. Known that her mother, one of the Ivory Order’s most valuable and resourceful spies, would not be coming back from The Dominion when she’d left all those years ago.
Brennan’s letter contained new information that, on its own, would have shaken her. That something dangerous enough was going on that she would now have to hunt down Archmage Miir (the ‘lady’ in Brennan’s letter), and try to find an informant willing to brave Tanahr’s cold, weather and otherwise, northern neighbor. But now everything was different. The world had shattered to bits and then reformed itself.
My love, you have a brother.
Was he alive and well? Was he a loyal Dominion patriot, or a true child of the Ivory Order, resourceful and versed in the arts of survival? Who had his father been—someone Elaine, her mother, had connected with to maintain her cover, or a lover who might still be out there in the world somewhere?
Leneah had to find him. Brennan knew her so well, understanding that with this new information, she could not rest. The mission would always come first, of course, but now fire and steel shaped her resolve. Her brother was out there in the world, somewhere, probably in the very place that had taken her mother’s life. No matter what horrors the Harbingers and their cultists wrought on the world, or whatever dark magics flared to life through the leylines of Ahra, her mission was two-fold: save the world whenever it was in her power to do so, and rescue her only living family along the way.
Lizzie Sinclaire 