"Sometimes the best intelligence comes from conversations you weren't supposed to hear."
Two days.
The assessment loomed just two days away. The words on the page might as well have been written in ancient Draconic for all the sense they made.
Rhys's finger traced the worn grain of the wooden table. Following the pale lines that reminded him of the borderland maps his father used to spread across their kitchen table back in Blackwood Glade. Those maps had been covered in charcoal markings. Goblin sightings. Beast migration patterns. The locations of traps that needed checking before the winter snows came.
Focus. The command echoed in his mind. Spoken in his father's gruff voice. A distracted mind gets you killed, boy.
