“She said they were going a mile in the opposite direction. They’re definitely there by now,” huffed Vica as she and Bren crested yet another demanding slope. “So Constantine’s anti-magic can’t affect us from that distance, not a chance.” Damn uphill terrain, she thought. No wonder the assassins had been so worried about finding higher ground; from this angle, any approaching mages would have had a clear view of everything below.
Bren said nothing, but she could hear his labored breathing as he struggled to keep pace with her. The cold drove into her bones like a storm of knives, and she couldn’t imagine that the small, slight man beside her was faring any better. He was in no shape to be maintaining such a punishing pace, even just for the last mile and a half that she estimated they had
