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Everyone was too exhausted in the aftermath of the fire to do anything more than feed themselves and drag themselves to bed. But Tarkyn lay in the darkness of his shelter, unable to sleep. Once having tuned in to it, he could not banish the forest’s distress from his mind. He was horrified at the destruction that sorcerers’ antagonism had brought to the woodland and he quailed at the thought of risking it again by continuing to interfere in his brothers’ rivalry. And yet, he knew that he could not stand by while thousands of sorcerers died needlessly for his brothers’ whims.
He opened his eyes to see the green lanterns of Midnight’s eyes staring at him from his corner of the shelter. Tarkyn smiled wryly and held out his arm and lifted his heavy wolf skin cloak invitingly. Immediately
