Baelon sat at one of the ancient tables, a lit candle by his side, studying a tattered map of Varenwald. He had the old notebook that Godrid had partially decoded open nearby, occasionally referencing it. It was beneath the city somewhere, but where? The square? The inn? Or maybe the shrine to the Ten? It was unclear.

He carefully moved them aside to look at the parchment underneath. It was the single most valuable document he had found here so far, an illustration of what they had ...