The roar that shook the mountain didn't come from a beast. It was the sound of the earth screaming. Master Vane stood at the edge of the training precipice, looking down at the valley where the lights of "civilized"
settlements flickered like a spreading fever.
"The Kings of the Lowlands have struck a vein of the Ancient Deep," Vane said, his voice unusually grim. "They are greedy.
They dig for Aetheria to power their clockwork toys and steam-engines, but they don't know what they've woken up."
Kaelen stood beside Lyra, his hand instinctively hovering near the hilt of his black glass dagger. He was fourteen now, his body lean and packed with corded muscle.
The fifty-year-old Arthur inside him felt more like a passenger these days, providing a cold, tactical edge to Kaelen's youthful speed.
"What is the Hunt, Master?" Lyra asked. Her hair was tied back in a warrior's braid, and her glass-like eyes seemed to hum with the blue light of the Aetheria they had learned to channel.
"The Kings have become a threat to the balance," Vane replied. "They have created something that cannot be allowed to exist. We are going to the Iron City of Oakhaven. You will find the man responsible for the excavation, Lord Alaric, and you will end him. But be warned: Alaric is no longer entirely human."