It's not supposed to snow in the South Forest, but the weather in the second-emptiest corner of Shelha is not the only thing behaving strangely. When an ex-tyrant started acting up again, Sethral had hoped it meant the end of lazy days and monotonou...
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"You lost them again?"
Sethral dropped panting to a branch above the renegade camp. She ignored the anxiety in Silversand's voice. "Whipper, they've got Drakon squads covering their every move, and the Leslanders spot any movement in the forest. We can't get close. But I stopped by Rockhall again." She managed a smile. "That stupid bird's still there and Garnet's ranting about where he might have got to, so at least the fort's safe."
Out over the Westwind Crags, more Drakons circled. Winter had moved her camp back from the river gorge, to a jumble of boulders and shoulder-high grass. Sharp spires and ridges rose around it. The Drakons loved to perch on them.
There would not be another patrol for several days. The Mountainairs had been doing this for close to half a moon now. Each patrol would return empty-pawed along a different route, report to Winter and settle down for apparently well-deserved food and rest. No more than a day later, the next patrol would depart. Each time they left, the Mountainairs were carrying a few more chains. Each time, they returned without them.
"Well, what now?" said Sethral. "I've tried, you've tried, Silver's tried, and the twins have tried at least a dozen times. Jay's still nowhere and I seriously doubt he'd get that close to the Mountainairs even if he was with us. We've got to come up with a better plan."
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Kastar closed his eyes as a west wind slapped his face. It was a beautiful day on the South flats, a remnant of earlier weather poking into the last moon of the growing season. The hills of the flats were already browning in anticipation of the coming heat.
Kastar felt footsteps behind him and identified the owner without turning around. "Echo, come up here and tell me what you see."
The Flatlander female bounded the last few tail-lengths and greeted him with a muzzle rub. She followed his gaze west. There were two blips on the distant horizon, over the Rock Flats. Their tops were puffed like Cottongrass seed over darkened undersides.
