Ethan Rivers had asked six people about the blue-eyed bloodline, and six people had turned their backs. He was tall and thin, with brown hair and the same pale blue eyes the old stories warned about. Those eyes were why he had come to Ignitestone. His mother once said the town held the oldest magic in the family blood. She died before she could tell him more. So Ethan came to learn the truth himself. He tried the market first. A fish seller stopped gutting her catch when he spoke the word bloodline. She stared at his eyes, then waved him off. The baker did worse. The man wiped flour from his hands and shut the shutter in Ethan's face. By afternoon Ethan understood the pattern. Everyone knew something. No one would say it. The silence itself was the wall he had to climb. He stopped an old woman near the well. "Please. I only need someone who remembers the old families." She looked around before answering. Her voice dropped to almost nothing. "You want the man they threw out. Aldric Thornwood. He talked about the bloodline once. That's why he lives past the fence now." Then she hurried away. Ethan found the house at the edge of town. A ragged red cloak hung by the door. The man who opened it was old, gray-haired, with a beard like tangled wool. A tarnished pin held his cloak, some silver bird gone dull with neglect. His eyes moved straight to Ethan's face. "Blue eyes," Aldric said. He didn't sound surprised. He sounded tired. "I wondered when your kind would come knocking again." "They told me you were cast out for speaking about the bloodline," Ethan said. "You're the only one who will." Aldric's mouth twisted. "Speaking cost me my seat, my name, and thirty years of my life. Why would I speak again to a stranger?" "Because I have this." Ethan pulled the ring from his pocket. It was old and heavy, the metal split by a deep crack across the face. A worn letter curled inside a circle on its surface. His mother had left it to him. Aldric went still. He reached out with a shaking hand and took the ring. He turned it toward the light and traced the cracked seal with one finger. "Where did you get this," he whispered. It was not a question. It was fear. "My mother. She said the family blood came from here." Aldric stepped back and pulled the door wide. "Then you'd better come in. But understand something, boy." He held up the ring. "The last person who carried this mark did not die of old age." Ethan crossed the threshold. The silence of the town was behind him now. The thread he needed was finally in his hand. So was a warning he could not yet understand.