While some of Northern's clones dealt with the reckoning of the Forest Hunters and poured poison into the heart of the Empire's North, another was making ready for a meeting he would rather have skipped.
Bairan could only keep his sister chained to the Dark Continent for so long. Though, in truth, Northern suspected the Sword King had never once tried.
The report had come in flat and unbothered.
"The Princess escaped my watch. But I'm chasing her down."
Stripped of its polish, that meant only one thing. The man wanted to be here, and badly.
'His being here is a disaster. Oh, good stars.'
Bairan had trained what might be the strongest Tyrant alive, and now here he was, drifting toward Northern's doorstep like it was nothing. The thought arrived just as Northern brought the hammer down. Sparks leapt off the iron in a vicious bright spray and died against the dark of the forge. He couldn't shake the feeling that he never paid quite enough attention to the sort of people he made.
