SKYE'S POV
The heavy iron lanterns hanging from the arched stone ceiling of the map room flickered softly, casting long, dancing shadows across the massive slate table in the center of the chamber. Outside, the summer night had settled deep over Nighthaven, wrapping the outer battlements in a blanket of cool mountain air and the faint, rhythmic chirping of alpine crickets.
I stood leaning over the slate table, a fine-tipped charcoal stick in my hand, sketching a series of revised irrigation channels for the eastern farming terraces. The lines needed to be precise; if the runoff channels were cut too deep, they would starve the lower orchards, and if they were too shallow, the sudden summer rainstorms would wash away the newly turned topsoil.
"You're squinting," Eryx said
Eryx walked a
