Irenya had seen Elaaron’s private quarters only once. He’d just come back from Tire—chasing that elusive woman and her brother.
The room was unchanged, except for the empty fire nook. She crossed the room to the large open windows. The view looked out over the main valley beyond the outer walls of the citadel and to the mountain pass through which she had journeyed north. Thick margins of dark green marked the course of the river and farmsteads dotted the valley. A wash of pale orange splashed the cliff faces of the Ilkyrie Peaks, casting deep dark shadows where the sun did not reach. In Tire, when the realm had not been under threat, the thought of Mikey having the MageGate Gift was exciting, but the sight of Aristar gleaming in his hand had troubled her.
She heard footsteps and turned.
