35 Wilt and Higgs stood on the riverbank under the looming city walls, picking through the rocks and pebbles at their feet, trying to find suitable slinging stones. The wide river bubbled past them, the only movement on its clear surface caused by the breeze from the south, bouncing across the water to ruffle Wilt’s hair. On the far bank the thick trees of the Tangle swayed with the same wind, silently watching them. Higgs was building a small pile of perfectly sized stones—he always seemed to find the right ones so easily—and Wilt took a few steps away to try his luck further down the bank. The toe of his boot kicked a likely candidate and he bent down to grab it, weighing its heft in his hand. Higgs was behind him, out of sight now. He somehow knew he couldn’t turn around to see him ev

