The first thing Kael noticed was the sound—thunderous and constant, like a waterfall crashing against stone. His eyes fluttered open, and the world came into focus. He was no longer at the top of the mountain.
He was beneath it.
He lay on a mat of thick furs inside a dim cave carved deep into the mountainside. Jagged shadows danced along the walls from a small fire flickering in the center. The air was cold but crisp, tinged with moss, smoke, and damp stone.
Across from him sat the scarred man—silent, unmoving, his one good eye fixed on Kael.
“You’re awake,” the man said, his voice like gravel scraping iron. “Good.”
Kael pushed himself up with a wince. His side throbbed where the blade had caught him, but the wound was clean and tightly wrapped. He hesitated, then swung his legs over
