o still be young, and pulled up off of their necks. They’re dust-stained and rumpled from travel, and Selmas groans when he sees them. T

l to ever have a hope of conquering the Alyrisin and taking the Bloodstone, but the

, but the way they call out to him makes his bl

e front of the group c

goes up to the fro

Wisterin asks. “It’s not good business

orders to fil

lls him. “I need some flying needles. The t

a name that is passed around through the area for a while, however, because while he isn’t very good at hand-to-hand combat, he’s good with poisons, which is where the flyi

ay of fighting, i

ke those,” h

front of his tunic and comes out with a thin, silver needle that glints in

le. “No. I don’t need to.

o that it’s pointed at the space between Sel

d don’t even get close until they’re already dead. Frankl

ou’re not a Warrior. I could take

tle,” Selmas says, crossing his arms. “Your clan is

ils flare. “Wh

are you doing?

and her expression murderous. She’s bruised across the bridge of her nose, and has a bandage tied around h

suddenly sweet. Selmas looks at hi

im flatly. “I kill

th vindictive pleasure that there’s some

fingers to Selmas in his apron. “Get your o

s come out crooked. I need preci

im. “Maybe you’ll learn to fi

uneasily. “That

,” Gwynfor says

out, no matter who you are. The Wiste

ides, you were here for grain reports, not weaponry. You’v

quickly stowes it. “I don’t want to disturb our families’ agreement, Gwynfor. I’ll see you in

he group strolls away from the shop, dow

handled,”

t,” Gwynfor sa

ot use

of paper. “You’re a weaponsmith. Here’s all the

king the paper from her and looking it ove

n two,” Gwynfor s

ounter to catch Gwynfor as she turns to walk away. “W

t thing he knows, he’s pinned up against the shop wall, ar

bout,” Gwynfor growls at him. “So if I find out you’ve said a

s yelps. “I won’

k a bit more to make sure her point

“But they’re coming to t

away, almost bumping into Byrin as he rounds

” he says. “B

r igno

o the counter. “I broke these.” He frowns. “Well, n

utters, still frowning after Gwynfor in confusion. “Do yo

are coming to

st Hund

into something uncomfor

decides that most of them are beyond repair, and tosses them to the side. H

He punches Selmas’ upper arm playfully. “And after this year, yo

s. “We don’

one has to accept you this time. Otherwise

tupid to give up,” Selmas mutters. “I don’t th

is, it’s going to make yo

oken spear. “I ho

ch still feels hollow and empty, a forebodi