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Chapter 3: The Choosing Ground
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Chapter 5: The Sword Remembers
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... to the fog as if unfinished business could anchor them a few hours longer.
Soren waited at the edge of the grounds, boots sunk ankle-deep in rutted frosting, until the first bell fractured the quiet.
The gates, iron teeth, chains bristling with last year’s rust jerked open one crank at a time, and the boys shuffled through, each hunched like cargo refusing to admit it knew its own destination.
Inside was a stone ring, oval as a broken egg, with the inner yard tracked by ...
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