Tavin and Valina sat on the edge of a small wall that bordered the town square and Benett’s smithy. He looked over at her for the dozenth time in the last hour; she was still staring at the road into Varenwald from their vantage point. The sun had gone down an hour ago, but Chalea still hadn’t returned.

“She’ll be alright,” Tavin said. He hoped he had made it sound casual and confident, but he still couldn’t help but worry a little himself. Most of his concern wasn’t for ...