Christoph led his team of oxen along the field. Auntie Femke had marked out this damper land for oats this year, and the soil needed to be refreshed before seeding. The heavy iron plowshare tore through the soil, creating ridges and furrows as it went. For now, the beasts did the backbreaking work. But Christoph would soon get his turn. His days would be filled with harrowing, sowing, and weeding. It was enough to make a man fondly recall his days in The Rotten Apples.

  That said, Gerd farm was a different operation these days. It had grown. Many locals had seen their own farms destroyed by the rampaging goblin army. Those unwilling or unable to start again had found a home here. There was plenty of land to cultivate in every direction, even if that involved chopping trees, or draining. And there were more bodies to carry out that work. More bodies, surely, Christoph hoped, to harrow, sow, and weed. Maybe I can take on a supervisory role of some kind?

  “Christoph!” came a call.

  It was Maia, a girl who had joined the farm with her family a few months ago. She was a year younger than he was. He knew she liked him, in an infatuation sort of way. She wasn’t anything like Ashlyn. But she was the kind of girl who might make a good wife one day. And Ashlyn…well. She was gone. He had done a lot of hurting over that. Now his time in the Apples seemed like a lifetime ago, and his memories of his time with Greenblade had faded, to a place where he could look back with fondness, instead of pain.

  “Something up?”

  “We’ve visitors at the farm.”

  “What kind of visitors?”

  “From Avolo. Folks who know you and Femke and Wade.” The look she gave him wasn’t far off awe.

  If only you knew what a green young fool I was most of the time, he thought. “Well, we best be going over to greet them, I guess.”

  “You best. Not me. Femke says I’m to take over the oxen from you. Time is the one thing you can never replace. So she told me.”

  “Ah. Right. Maybe that’s best then, if Auntie Femke says so.”

  The arrivals at the farm weren’t quite who Christoph had been hoping to see. The Baron had brought Murder and Smoke, one of the ex-Golden Blades, whom Christoph hadn’t got to know very well before he left the company. Along with his aunt and Wade, Christoph sat down with them in the farmhouse kitchen, sharing food and reminiscing a little about old times.

  “And I imagine the farming life is suiting you very well,” The Baron asked Wade.

  “Then you must have a vivid imagination,” Wade shot back. “It’s exhausting for a man of my delicate physique.”

  “Oh yes. Physically, no doubt. But surely, good for the soul.”

  “Good for the soul? It ain’t perfect, but better than listening to the pompous nonsense you come out with. Now how about spitting out how you're here? I’m damned sure it isn’t a social call.”

  “You’re damned right,” said The Baron, immune to the insults flung his way. “It’s a thievery quest, out in Kuthenia. Smoke and Murder are currently my only companions.”

  “Mada.”

  “I need someone with the skills of our trade, and naturally I thought of you.” The Baron looked at Christoph and Femke. “And any other ex-colleagues, of course.”

  “Do you know how busy we are on the farm this time of year?” Femke asked him. “I can’t spare anyone. Not even Trent.”

  “I did think of that,” said The Baron. “I would offer Murder here as a temporary replacement, until Wade returns. He’s content to work all day, with none of the whinging.”

  Femke eyed Murder, clearly considering it.

  “Mada,” suggested Murder.

  Wade looked between the three of them. “I’m sat right here, do you ken?”

  “You’re not tempted to return to your old life?” Smoke asked him, sounding genuinely interested. “Not intrigued at all by a new mission?”

  Wade rubbed at his chin. “There is one thing that stays with me. When those goblins came here, I finally levelled up. All my efforts, and I boosted after I’d retired. It would be nice to get those extra wages, if only once.”

  “Of course, I would loan you back the Necklace of Agility, for the length of the mission,” The Baron added.

  Wade looked across to Femke, clearly tempted.

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  “I understand if you have itchy feet,” she said. “Murder here would be a fair replacement for the farm. We could always do with the money. So it’s your choice, Trent. I’ll not stand in your way. But we can’t afford to lose anyone else.” She looked pointedly at Christoph, who got the message loud and clear.

  Next morning, Christoph was up bright and early, with a long list of tasks ahead of him.

  Wade had left with The Rotten Apples. The Baron had called it a thievery mission, and made no mention of needing an archer. Still, Christoph felt a little miffed that there had been so little effort to recruit him.

  I got to Level 3, after all, he considered. Before I turned twenty, as well.

  “Christoph!”

  It was Auntie Femke. She rushed over with a worried expression. “It’s Eden. He’s missing, and I’ve a terrible feeling he’s gone after his father. But he could just be hiding somewhere to avoid work. He has a habit of doing that.”

  “Oh dear.” That wasn’t good news. The Gerd farm was perfectly safe. But once someone crossed the Auster, they entered a no-man’s land, where no one held authority. Remnants of the goblin army had retreated there, finding safety in the borderlands, where they could prey on the weak and na?ve.

  “I’m checking all the buildings,” Femke said. “Can you look in the fields, and woods?”

  “Of course.”

  She rushed off, intent on looking in the various outbuildings that were scattered around the farmstead. Christoph set out for the fields, then stopped. The thought had occurred, what would Jaelin the Explorer do? And the answer that came to him was that he’d check to the east of the farm for signs of Eden’s passing.

  East of the farm was a muddy wasteland. The old forest had been chopped away, and water now drained here, only drying out in the summer months. The nature of the land meant tracking someone was as easy as it got. He began to search the ground.

  The first footprints he found had been left by Wade, Smoke, and The Baron. That was no surprise—three men passing through left more signs than a child. But it gave him a starting point. If Eden had followed them, he should find the youngster’s footprints nearby. He scoured the area, trying to work out, as Jaelin would have done, the likely route Eden would have taken.

  Then he found his first footprint—a single shoe mark, where Eden had hopped off a rock and landed in the ground with force. He backtracked, working out where Eden would have come from. Not long after, he found a second, confirmatory print.

  He stopped, temporarily frozen with indecision. Should he follow the boy immediately, in the hopes he could quickly catch him? Or return to the farm?

  What good is The Bowman without his bow? Christoph asked. He ran back to the farm.

  ***

  De Cheney looked around his room with pursed lips. “You know, it’s about time you moved out of this place. It’s not like you can’t afford something else. Living here harms your reputation.”

  “It’s convenient,” Lothar argued.

  “Look at the Blairs. They had that mansion, and called it a palace. It made them look wealthy, and powerful.”

  “I suppose that’s true. I’ll think about it.” He was tired of being offered advice. “Can I show you these maps now?”

  “Go on then.”

  As before, when Lothar placed the fourth map with the other three, they began to glow. He looked nervously at Rosalind, whose calm demeanour reassured him that he wasn’t about to be turned into a toad.

  She opened the maps, each identical to the other—but nothing had changed there. It was only when she turned the first over that she found what was happening. It was the reverse side that was glowing. A new map was being drawn before their eyes. “Clear a space on your desk, Lothar,” she told him.

  Rosalind placed the four maps, upside down, onto the desk. She then began to arrange them, until the new maps fitted together, like a child’s puzzle.

  What was revealed was a larger map, displaying the same locations of the four barrows. Except now a fifth location was revealed.

  “It’s in the Deepwood,” Lothar said.

  To the north of Mer Khazer was a thick, ancient forest. It wasn’t the kind of place anyone, even Jaelin The Explorer, would voluntarily spend time in.

  Rosalind was pensive. “So someone has left these maps in each barrow, and now leads their owner into the forest?”

  “I know. Imagine what treasures are in this fifth location, after what we found in the barrows.” Lothar was excited. Maybe magic wasn't so bad after all.

  “Easy, Stiff. It’s possible we’re being led into a trap here. Most of those barrows had dangers as well as prizes. Even if there is more treasure here, there could be a greater threat that goes with it.”

  Lothar thought about it. “Almost certainly. I agree, we need to be careful. But we can’t just ignore this,” he said, gesturing at the revealed location. “If we don’t go there someone else will find it eventually.”

  “I agree. But I think this needs someone with magic to go. And I don’t mean Bletcher.”

  “You mean you!” Lothar realised, beaming. “You’re going to join The Rotten Apples?”

  She frowned at him. “Now I didn’t say that, did I? But yes, I think I need to be there. There is magic involved here, and more than that. There is planning.” She grimaced, as if trying to find the right words. “A powerful mind.”

  Lothar thought about it. “I can’t go. Not yet. There are more ships coming, and I need to be here to recruit.”

  “If not you, then who? I’m not going alone, that’s for sure.”

  “It has to be the team in Dorwich. They’re the best we have. I’ll write a letter for them. Go to Dorwich, explain as much as you want about the mission. I’ll put you in charge.”

  Rosalind made a face. “Bad plan. They don’t know me. Probably don’t trust me.”

  “Alright. Wynter is in charge. But be careful, Rosalind. Find out what you can. If you need to pull out and report back to me, or get more of the squad together, do it. I want you back safe. And the others, if at all possible.”

  “Aw, Stiff. It’s almost as if you care.”

  “Of course I care. I need you to help me find a new home, don’t I?” He knelt by his chest, lifted the lid, and produced the Circlet of Wisdom. “Here. If you’re going to join the squad, you should have this. I think it suits you the most.”

  “Why, thank you, Stiff,” she said. “It’s beautiful.” She looked touched, then side eyed him. “But who said anything about joining the squad?”

  “Come on, Rosalind. You can’t go on a mission without joining the squad. That’s how it works. It won’t change our relationship.”

  “Why is this so important to you, exactly?”

  “I get to see your stats, of course.”

  “Lothar Sauer. I would like to think I’ve revealed more interesting things to you than my stats sheet.”

  “Of course. But I’m a merc captain. It’s a professional interest of mine.”

  She sighed. “Alright. But don’t go thinking this puts you in charge of me.”

  “The thought hadn’t crossed my mind.”

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