{ "Leaders aren't born, they are made."}
Sierra walked over to me, her expression unreadable, but I knew her well enough to recognize the grief tightening the corners of her mouth and the tension in her voice as she began to speak.
"There's been no word," she said, her tone clipped and formal, but her eyes flicked to mine. "No message. No trace. Not from Freyr, not from Dante."
The words struck me like a cold knife, but I did not let it show. "How long since their last contact?" I asked.
"Three days. The ravens we sent to their camp returned without reply. The last scrying attempt failed. Whatever magic lingers around Blood Stone Mountain, it has grown stronger, blinding, even."
Murmurs rippled through the hall. Amon paced up and down, lips tightening. "We must be patient and trust that Dante will keep Freyr safe."
"Patient," I echoed softly, eyes scanning the faces before me."
