Chapter Sixteen
Eastern Continent
Huldar stumbled in from the shrieking wind and tossed a bag of coal toward the center of the marquee. Frost clung to his eyebrows. He should have covered his face.
“Get the fire lit! Quickly, Tam!”
Tam and Arko grabbed the bag. Black lumps of fuel spilled onto the rug. Huldar pulled on a fur-lined balaclava and turned for the exit again. Outside, billowing tents huddled around the marquee as if looking for warmth. Dark leathers faded into dull white, swallowed by the blizzard. The wind was a malevolent force, whining among the guy-ropes as if it resented their presence.
Huldar saw a loose rope on Lind’s tent and ran to sing it tight before the flapping leather could fatigue and tear.
Lind emerged from the tent door, her face framed by the thick fleec
