Renard stopped at the edge of a clearing and raised his hand.
The path ahead split in two directions—one leading toward the cliffs, the other winding inland through sparse woods. The map in his hand marked both routes, but he wasn't looking at the map. He was looking at the figures emerging from the tree line.
Five hunters. Aldorian. Their jackets were dark green, their boots scuffed, their weapons worn with use. They moved like people who had spent years in the field—quiet, efficient, watchful. Their leader was a woman with short grey hair and a scar across her chin. She carried a long knife and a crossbow that looked older than she was.
Renard stepped forward. "Captain Voss."
She didn't smile. "Renard. These are the Verlanders?"
"These are Ashen Dawn. They're here to retrieve the fragment."
The woman's eyes swept over the team—Cora's hand on her sword, Mason's gauntlets, Sera's crossbow, Derek's staff, Lucian's calm face. Her lip curled.
"They look like children."
