Thrax was kneeling beside Rowan as she studied the footprints in the mud. "Well?" he murmured, sounding impatient. But the hand sliding around her ribs and up over her breasts belied his gruff tone.

She turned to him with an arched brow, slapping his hand away. "It's a snaggle-tooth hart," she said, pinching her mouth between her teeth so as not to smile at his antics.

His wicked hand was persistent, sneaking in to palm her breast again. "Are you sure?" He sounded bored, but she knew better. His eyes erupted with bright yellow. "You said the musk fox was a golrag, remember?"

Her belly quivered, flames licking deep in her core. He was making it nigh impossible to think. "Maybe if you kept your roving hands to yourself, I'd not have mistook the musk fox for a golrag." She narrowed her eyes as he sought and pinched her nipple through her dress. She'd need to commission a jerkin made of thick leather before taking hunting lessons from Thrax again. "Stop distracting me, you're a terrible instructor."

He flipped her around and pushed her onto her back so that she was looking up at his smug face. "The outland is full of distractions, min skani, none of them so delightful as me."

"Arrogant beast," she said, turning her face away from the kiss he was trying to plant on her lips. Her laughter turned into squealing as he nipped her neck. She only managed to escape him by digging her claws into his unguarded ticklish spot.

He grunted with laughter and rolled off her. He watched her for a moment, smirking, and then turned his head to the south as she got back to studying the footprints. They were on high ground, trying to spot the owner of the prints.

"It's a snaggle-tooth hart," she said again. "I'm certain of it."

He came over to trace the spoor with his finger. "It's too small to be a hart."

Her smile dimmed. "Oh." It looked big enough, she'd been so certain.

Thrax pushed a lock of her hair off her shoulder, his mouth quirking up. "It is, however, a snaggle-tooth doe."

The smile leaped back in place. "I'm half right, then!"

"Yes," he chuckled, helping her to her feet. His eyes darted back to the south again, towards the dark sky obscuring the range in the distance.

"What is that place?" She didn't like the look of his expression whenever he looked that way.

"The Deadwolds," he said.

"And what is that mountain?" She followed his gaze to the mountainous ridge that spanned the southeast horizon. There were storm clouds hovering on this side of the range, obscuring the tops. Whenever she glanced that way, six times out of ten, Brek was throwing thunder over the shadow lands below the mountain. Perhaps to warn away unsuspecting travelers. Not that there were many folk daft enough to venture into the outland.

On a clear day, it was a vastness visible even from the towers of West Gate, but she'd never bothered to learn much about the shadowy features beyond the Iron Girdle. Until she'd come to Carthyrk, the winding Jorg had been the only landmark she'd been able to name. From her apartments in West Gate, the river snaked towards the horizon, its surface like gleaming black scales when the sun was low in the sky.

"We call that mountain Myrkheim," said Thrax. "There's an old mountain pass that leads directly to West gate, but you have to cross the Deadwolds to get to it. It's why we travel east first, skirting the mountain, before heading southward to join up with the Jorg as it flows to West Gate."

She didn't need to ask why it was necessary to avoid the Deadwolds. The Jorg seemed like the only thing brave enough to snake along the mountain range, skirting those shadow lands.

Rowan slipped her hand into Thrax's to watch the stars blinking to life as the sunlight faded. With her warg sight, she could see stars that'd been invisible until now. She'd had a taste of it before when he'd given her the night gift with a drop of his blood. The constellations had erupted with light even then.

"How do you know your way around the outland so well?" she asked. "Which way to your father's pack?" She had so many questions. What were the other gates like? She'd never seen snow before, yet she'd heard it snowed all the time in North Gate. The world was a mystery she was impatient to discover.

He smiled as he moved behind her and, maneuvering his arm under hers, lifted her hand to follow his finger across the night sky. Towards one constellation in particular. "Do you see Jorg swimming in a curve through the sky...like a crescent moon?" He waited for her to nod before he continued, "See the three brightest stars that make up his head?"

"Yes." There were three very bright stars all in a perfect, straight line.

"He's looking at Hekki's Eye? Here," he said, making a fist and turing it lengthways, "that's the bright star the length of my fist away. Do you see it?"

"I see it!" There were so many bright stars, but Hekki's Eye had a strange glow about it. "It's...there's a hint of red in her eye!"

"Yes," he answered, kissing the side of her head, "like your eyes."

She'd forgotten he'd said that. What an...eerie thing to know about oneself—that her eyes were nigh the same color as the mistress of the underworld. But instead of giving her the collywobbles, the comparison made her grin.

Thrax lowered his fist, wrapping his arm and hers around her waist. He hugged her like that, close and tight. "Hekki's Eye always sits in the north, unmoving. If you can find the eye, you can find your bearings. No matter how the night sky changes, or which way Jorg swims around her, Hekki's watchful eye is constant." Then he pointed towards a lonely shadowy giant far on the distant horizon. A skeletal tree. "That dead ash due east is Kolg. You can see him from miles around."

"Kolg," she echoed, tracing the towering black limbs that seemed to claw at the sky. "It looks...eerie."

"Yes, Kolg is home to many mowrath species. We use him as a landmark, but we don't stray too close." His thumb brushed up and down her flesh, spreading heat in her blood despite Kolg's gloomy presence on the horizon and Hekki's Eye glaring down from the heavens. "Had you tried to go back to West Gate on your own, the mowraths would've snatched you up. That's if the golrags didn't manage to get past your nixrath. Like humans, mowraths are invulnerable to nixrath."

The thought of what could've happened made her throat dry. She didn't want to be reminded of that night. "Which way is Warrow?"

"I was getting to that," he said knowingly. "With Carthyrk at your back, Kolg marks the point on the horizon where the sun will rise each day." His hand moved to aim a finger northeast. "My father's pack is that way."

She nodded thoughtfully, wondering when he would take her to Warrow to meet his parents and older brother. Then her gaze returned to the south where the storm clouds obscured most of Myrkheim. "What if Brek's in a black temper and all the sky is cloaked from view? How can I see Hekki's Eye through all the clouds?" Not even warg vision could pierce a storm.

"There are other ways, min skani."

"What other ways?"

She could feel him smiling, his lips curling on the side of her face. "Ways that come with experience and patience. You have to learn to pay attention to the trees and rocks, to quiet your mind, and to watch the world move around you. Every bird and insect, the very wind itself—most things in the outland behave in predictable ways. Except you." His grin widened as she turned to glare up at him. Unfazed, he continued. "When I say there are other ways, I mean tricky ways. You have to take all the clues Maeda provides and build a picture. Certain birds build their nests facing northeast, on the leeward side of trees and cliffs. Certain deer will graze facing northward. The roots of trees will be thicker in the direction of the prevailing wind. Here, in Carthyrk, the wind blows steadily from the southwest. That is nearly always the case."

Her shoulders sank. Indeed, it would take experience and time before she was familiar with all these things. Nothing he'd just said could be learned overnight.

"But these clues can sometimes be tricks in disguise," he went on. "The gods and forest spirits like to cozen us when we aren't watchful."

"How'd you mean?"

"The moss on one rock might grow adversely on the south-facing side instead of the north," he said. "You'd be lost if you only used that one rock to determine north. So you must notice the moss on all the other rocks and trees, too, not just the one rock Hekki might've switched back to front. Or where a giant might've cast his shadow to trick the rock."

"I didn't know Hekki was so...playful."

"She is the trickiest of all the goddesses. It is why the gods lust after her most of all—she's unattainable."

"What about you?" She twisted around to look at him. "Who do you lust after?"

"You really need to ask that?" His voice darkened. "When I cannot keep my hands off you."

She let out a delighted squeal as he wrangled her easily to the ground. With one hand, he secured her wrists above her head. His other hand was already rucking her hems up her thighs. "No, Stop!" But the tears on her cheeks were those of laughter. And her only fear was of what eyes might be watching.

"Oh, min skani, at least have the decency not to laugh while I'm ravaging you." He chuckled, dropping his mouth to her low neckline. The brooches had come undone in the scuffling and he made quick work of the ties down her shift. With a light tug of his crooked finger, her breasts were spilling out against his tongue.

All at once, her laughter vanished as heat shot up her chest. She sighed as his lips caresses each milky globe. With a groan, she arched her back, trying to free her hands, but he'd snared her to the ground and his hold was like iron.

"What...what if..." She licked her lips, trembling as his tongue worked her nipples into stiff peaks. "What if golrags...come."

His laughter was deep and wicked. "The only ones coming...will be you and I." As he untied his trews and settled between her legs, thrusting deep, the sultry Eye of Hekki winked from her seat in the north.

And what an eyeful she got, indeed.