The thousands of southern shifters and human merchants who had crossed the border over the last three days, the terrified families who had been left huddled in the lower encampments, the seasoned border guards who had been stationed at the distant river outposts—they were all there, packed tightly together in the narrow, suffocating defile. There was no space left between their frames, no gap to let the frozen alpine wind pass through. But they were no longer walking with the frantic, stumbling steps of exhausted refugees, and they were no longer crying out for warmth or food like living men.
They were the Stone Men.
