Page 107 of Shadowvein

The sharp command to halt comes exactly as anticipated.

“You there! Stop in the name of the Authority!”

We stop, and turn to face the patrol now visible on the ridge below us. Six soldiers in standard mountain gear, weapons ready but not aimed at us. The officer in charge studies us through a viewing scope.

“Identify yourselves.” His voice carries clearly. “This region is restricted to Authority patrols only.”

“Merchants,” Tisera calls back. “Traveling to Northpass Settlement.”

“Approach slowly. Present your documentation.”

Ellie’s breathing speeds up beside me. “What are they saying?”

“They want to see proof of who we are,” I murmur. “Stay close. Stay quiet.”

We move toward them, slow and cautious, precisely what innocent but nervous travelers would do when faced with Authority soldiers. I keep my head angled downward, face partially hidden by my hood. Being recognized is unlikely after so long, but unnecessary risk of exposure serves no purpose.

“Documentation,” the officer snaps when we reach them.

Tisera produces papers worn along the edges. “Trade permit and regional access authorization.”

The officer examines her documents carefully, comparing the seals against something in a small handbook. He nods once, apparently satisfied, then turns his attention to Ellie and me.

“Theirs?”

“My companions’ papers were lost when our pack animal fellduring the storm yesterday.” Tisera doesn’t hesitate. “We’ve been trying to make up for lost time ever since.”

The officer’s eyes narrow. “Names?”

“Marten,” I offer, picking out a name that used to be common, and hoping it still is. “This is Elaria. We’re cloth traders from Southwatch.”

He studies us, eyes narrowed. “Southwatch traders typically travel with larger caravans. Why are you in this region with no caravan and only three of you?”

“Special commission. Quality rather than quantity. Less profit in bulk trading these days with the new tariffs.”

He stares at me for a moment longer, then waves a hand. “There have been reports of bandits near Flare Valley. Be cautious.”

“Thank you.”

“Wait.” One of the patrol steps forward, a shorter man with a lieutenant’s mark on his collar. “Let me see him.”

I hold still as the lieutenant approaches. His gaze is focused, one hand resting on his weapon.

“Face up,” he orders.

I tilt my head slightly, allowing light to fall across my features, while attempting to keep a deferential posture appropriate for a merchant being questioned by Authority officials.

The lieutenant’s eyes widen. His hand tightens on his weapon.

“Sir.” His voice is tight. “This man matches the description of the recent alert. Dark eyes, angular features, approximately thirty years of age.”

The officer frowns. “There are thousands who match that vague description, Merren.”

“Sir, the dispatch from Ashenvale was specific.” The lieutenant lowers his voice, but I catch every word. “Watch for a man matching this description around Ravencross, the Sunfire Dunes or the mountain passes between. They believe someone dangerous has escaped.”

He removes a folded slip of parchment from the inner pocket of his coat. The seal is already broken. He unfolds it and hands it to the officer.

I glimpse the likeness as it passes between them. Crude. But recognizably mine.

---