The group emerged into the Red Fox map room. Dem stepped off the dais and studied the table. Two glowing sigils confirmed what they already suspected—the two sites were now linked.
Mamar traced a finger across the carved stone, murmuring to herself. "Layers upon layers of runes. Almost countless. Drawing power directly from the land beneath." She shook her head in quiet awe. "An extraordinary feat."
Dem nodded. "Group travel between Red Fox and Swiftwind is now possible." He studied the map. "Whitehill is the closest site to Red Fox. Though if we depart from Swiftwind, Bright Sun would be nearer."
"I wouldn't mind seeing Whitehill," Telo said.
"Let's head back," Dem decided. "We'll plan our next move there."
They returned through the Swiftwind portal and retraced their path across the plateau, lowering themselves down the ropes Dem had anchored earlier.
On the walk back to camp, Mamar fell into step beside him.
"Thank you for bringing me, Commander," she said sincerely. "Can you match the sigils to specific clan members?"
Dem shook his head. "Not yet. Whitehill, Frostridge, and Bright Sun showed honey badger, mountain lion, and fisher."
The rest of the journey passed in silence.
At the cliff face, Dem secured the ropes fifty feet up before turning back toward camp. "This stays between us. For now, even the other Sentries don't need to know."
They parted ways at Swiftwind. Dem paused to feed Nephira scraps of roasted meat before settling beside Noko near the cookfire.
"You studying?" he asked.
She nodded, tracing the lines as she read. "The Academy must be an amazing place."
"It was," Dem said. "Massive. Warded to keep intruders out."
"That's where you got the tea and simmons." Noko closed her eyes, smiling. "Can we have some tonight?"
"Sure." Dem ruffled her hair and retrieved his map from the storage ring.
"Commander." Reyka's familiar voice came from the edge of the family camp. She approached with a bright smile, hugging him before stepping back.
"How was Frostridge?" Dem asked.
"Good," she said. "I nearly lost my voice telling stories from Stonefall." Her expression shifted. "I have a message for you—from Rave."
Dem grimaced faintly. Rave had entrusted him with her personal homing pigeons, and he'd never found the time to write her. "Thanks. I'll reply once I've read it."
Reyka sat cross-legged on the ground, speaking softly with Dem while Noko continued her studies nearby.
"Do you recognize this place?" Dem asked, pointing to a spot on the map spread across the small table.
Reyka leaned closer, the faint scent of jasmine following her. "It's near the mines. Looks like the old tunnels that were collapsed years ago after the minerals were picked clean."
"How long ago?" Dem asked. "And why collapse them?"
"Long before I was born. Copper, I think," Reyka said. "Once a mine is exhausted, we seal it. Otherwise, creatures move in. We fill craters too—anything that lets water collect. The goal is to leave the land as close to untouched as possible."
"Minus the minerals," Dem said.
She smiled. "Minus the minerals." After a moment, she hesitated. "I have a question."
Dem raised an eyebrow. "Going to ask, or should I guess?"
"Any plans to expand the Sentry Force?"
Dem rolled the map and slipped it back into his ring. "What brought this on?"
"I'd like more archers in my odun. Maybe double the number," Reyka said, flashing a hopeful smile. "Next year, perhaps. Or are you already thinking along those lines?"
"My birthday's in a few weeks," Dem said. "That puts my Massat three years away. Unless something unexpected happens, I don't plan any major changes until after I return." He paused. "That said—doubling your archers isn't unreasonable. Your odun proved itself against the Crow mercenaries. You have my approval to recruit at next year's Gathering."
Reyka's smile widened. "Tam will be of age by then."
Dem nodded. Tam Swiftwind—once her fiercest rival at every archery meet. After years of rivalry, Reyka's unexpected apology had finally mended the bridge between them. "Plenty of time."
Reyka stayed another hour before taking her leave, just as Gram and Yada returned from the herds. Nephira uncoiled from Dem's arm, nostrils flaring.
Reowr.
Gram found a large metal bowl and warmed a mixture of sheep's milk and egg. "Shouldn't she be growing more?"
Dem shrugged. "It's only been a few weeks. All she does is eat."
He leaned back against Cosmo and finally unfolded Rave's message.
Dem,
Maybe I should have left instructions on how to use the carrier pigeons I gave you. It's been months, and you haven't written.
Our people returned home for a short visit, and I decided to send this with Reyka instead. I know you're busy with the Sentry Force. Everyone speaks highly of you. It's clear the Sentry has changed them. Sometimes I barely recognize Reyka—she's more thoughtful now. More flexible. Even her father has noticed.
Next month, we celebrate Winter's Peak. Would you come visit me then?
—Rave
The Sentry Force departed the winter grounds at dawn, riding northeast. Whitehill lay roughly half a day closer than Frostridge. They pushed hard, stopping only to water mounts, eat quickly, and move on.
It was midnight when they made cold camp, setting minimal watch before grabbing a few hours of rest.
At first light, they were moving again—on pace to arrive before midday.
Sark rode up beside Dem and Telo. "We have contact a few miles ahead. Looks like they're headed the same way."
"Hunters?" Dem asked.
Sark nodded. "About half our size. A few familiar faces. The fools from the tatzelwurm hunt."
"Captain Rubai?" Dem grinned. That group had once tried to steal an egg from a wounded tatzelwurm. It hadn't ended well. If not for the Huntmaster's annual hunt, they'd have been killed outright. "You close enough to be sure?"
"Not him," Sark said. "But his mount. Sleek white racer—built for speed. Too good for a cake eater."
Dem laughed. "Then we'll just have to relieve him of it."
The Sentry Force reined in several miles outside Whitehill territory. Moving hard, they arrived well ahead of the hunters.
Dem pulled Tier Whitehill aside. "Slip into the compound and warn your Clan Chief. The hunters' arrival coincides with our intelligence that something is about to happen. I don't think that's a coincidence."
"Understood, Commander." Tier turned his mount and headed for his clan.
Telo approached with the odun chiefs close behind. "What's the plan?"
"We make camp," Dem said. "Bright. Visible. As obvious as possible. Double the guard, plenty of light. Let everyone know we're here." He frowned slightly. "I want the archer and scout oduns to peel off and set a cold camp—hidden and quiet."
Sark nodded. "I know just the place."
Reyka smiled. "I was hoping for a hot meal, Commander."
"Next time." Dem clapped her shoulder and turned away.
"Dismount, stables first, then tents!" Telo called out. "Three stationary guards, two rovers, remuda guard in place!"
Dem accessed his storage ring and began pitching the command tent, his thoughts circling the hunters. Mamar had warned him something was coming—but whether the hunters were the danger, or merely the trigger, remained unclear.
Telo returned with a smoked haunch of boar, already split. "I don't see it," he said, handing Dem a generous portion. "How are two dozen hunters a threat to Whitehill?"
Dem took a seat, accepting the meat. "Neither do I."
Miles away, Sark lay flat atop a ridgeline, staring down in stunned silence.
Below him, a vast valley stretched wide, waist-high green grass rippling in the wind. Tens of thousands of Voderbeasts darkened the land—by far the largest migration he had ever seen.
"What do you think?" he whispered to the Swiftwind twins flanking him.
Umi shook her head slowly. "That has to be a wild herd. Right?"
Dael nodded. "Nobody domesticates these bastards. Too mean. Too skittish. And they don't tire—spook them and they'll run for dozens of miles."
"Shit." Sark motioned them back from the ridge. "Umi—ride. Get to camp and warn the Commander."
"Warn him about what?" Umi asked, her usual grin flashing even now.
Sark glanced once more toward the valley. "This herd. That valley leads straight into the Tier compound. If someone spooks them…"
He didn't finish.
Umi mounted and turned her horse toward the Sentry camp, urging it into a hard run.
Umi galloped into the main camp as the sun dipped toward the horizon. She swung down from her saddle near the command tent, immediately spotting Telo and Dem.
"Commander. Scout Umi reporting."
Dem passed her a canteen. She accepted it with a grin and took a long pull.
"Report."
"We located a herd of voderbeasts—twenty thousand, maybe more. They're moving through a valley roughly ten miles south of Whitehill."
"Voderbeasts?" Dem glanced at Telo, who was already frowning.
"Big, ugly things with horns and bad tempers," Telo said. "They've got two speeds—walking and stampeding." He grimaced. "Has to be a late migration."
"Orders, Commander?" Umi took another drink and returned the canteen.
Dem's eyes narrowed. The hunters might not be the danger after all. "Warn the Whitehill Clan Chief. Then return to Sark."
Umi nodded and was already moving. Moments later, she was back in the saddle and racing from camp.
Dem turned to Telo. "What do you know about voderbeasts?"
"Not much that's useful," Telo admitted. "They're dumb. Try to herd them and they'll just as likely run you down. It's like herding cats—angry ones."
"Do they migrate this late in the year?"
"No. They should be wintering far south by now." Telo shook his head. "And I've never heard of a herd this size. A thousand would be remarkable."
"Then we ignore the hunters for now and deal with the herd," Dem said. "Get the odun chiefs who are still here. I want options by morning."
Telo nodded and moved off.
Dem waited until he was gone before ducking into his command tent.