The Hunt Begins

While Donnerfels held its breath beneath the storm, Thomas found Manuel behind the stables, sharpening his knives.

"Come with me," Thomas said. "I need your eyes."

Manuel didn't ask why. He simply sheathed the blade and followed.

They walked until the others were out of earshot—Gerd snoring in the barracks, Kai writing letters by lamplight. Then Manuel stopped.

"What are we doing?"

Thomas kept his voice low. "The two girls from Stalhein. The redhead and the ice witch. They're here in the village."

Manuel's hand paused near his belt. "You're certain?"

"Lady Giulia told me herself. She wants them found and brought to her." Thomas nodded toward the center of town. "Come on. We'll start at the pub."

---

The pub was nearly empty.

A handful of locals nursed their drinks in the corners, too tired to talk. At the largest table, three men sat with maps spread between them: Ignar Emberfare, Lionel Alzarath, and a broad-shouldered man Thomas didn't recognize.

Thomas and Manuel took a table near the door. They ordered ale they didn't intend to drink.

Across the room, Ignar leaned back and lit his cigar.

"Neiju's got two forces moving," he said, tapping ash onto the floor. "East and southeast. Once the battle starts, it won't stop until we reach that empress or she reaches us."

Lionel studied the map with folded hands. "I trust my team. It's the Golden Croaks that worry me."

Ignar waved a hand. "Don't lose sleep over them. Plenty of young lads in that guild who could give you a run for your money."

The broad-shouldered man—Graven—raised an eyebrow. "Mages in Fredendore who could rival Captain Lionel? I'll believe it when I see it."

Ignar chuckled and took a long drink. "Fredendore's guilds are growing, Graven. More young talent every year."

He glanced around the nearly empty room. "Not much of a crowd tonight."

"With the way things are in this village," Ignar said, exhaling smoke, "I'd wager these dark clouds are the last hope for rain they have."

Lionel said nothing. His eyes drifted toward the window.

*Young talent.*

He remembered the food stall. The red-haired girl with the borrowed sword. The black-haired one who sat in silence, radiating cold.

His mouth twitched.

"Yes," Lionel murmured, almost to himself. "Plenty of powerful young mages."

---

Hours later, the locals had gone home. Kai and Gerd had passed out at a corner table, snoring into their arms.

Thomas and Manuel stood.

"Ready?" Thomas asked.

Manuel nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment, extending his senses outward. "There aren't many people in Donnerfels who carry Fire or Ice mana. Finding them shouldn't be difficult."

"Then what's stopping you?"

Manuel opened his eyes. "The rest of what I'm sensing." He began counting them off, low and quick. "Gerd Ballomore—Earth, Wizard. Ignar Emberfare—Magma, Spellblade. Lionel Alzarath—Mist, Sorcerer. Graven Becken—Earth, Sorcerer. And Gritsia Stoneheart—Earth, Sorcerer."

He glanced toward the palace.

"Some of Eagle's Flames carry Earth, Lightning, and Mist as well. All of it tangled together up there."

"That still leaves the two girls," Thomas said.

"It does." Manuel's expression darkened. "But picking them out won't be easy. Gritsia's mana is everywhere—like trying to hear a whisper during an earthquake. If those girls are anywhere near the Stoneheart, they'll be buried under her presence. We won't pick them out until we get close."

Thomas swore under his breath. "Then we search door to door."

"Quietly."

"Quietly," Thomas agreed.

They stepped outside. The streets of Donnerfels were empty, the moon barely piercing the clouds. Somewhere in the dark, two foreign mages were hiding.

Thomas looked at Manuel.

"Let's find them."

They vanished into the night.