Rhydian's POV
Sable wakes me before dawn with a slip of paper and an expression I don't like at all.
"Read it," she says, not bothering to sit, pacing instead at the foot of my bed while I scan Maren's cramped handwriting twice to make sure I've understood it correctly.
"The Hollow ones," I read aloud, and something cold settles low in my chest, the same cold I felt in Corwin's study two nights ago. "You're sure this came from someone inside Ashgrove."
"Wren says the handwriting belongs to a woman named Maren, who worked for her mother before the fire. No reason to doubt it." Sable stops pacing, finally crossing her arms. "Rhydian, I've heard that phrase before. Once. Years ago, from my mother, back before she died, talking about something her own mother used to warn her about. A group
