Mallory Ravensfield had until winter to hide the people she loved, and every map on her table failed them. She weighted the corners with river stones and traced the roads out of Wyldmere. Each road led somewhere she could reach in a day. That was the problem. If she could reach it, so could the men who hunted her family. She needed land no enemy would guess and no stranger would stumble upon. She had not found it. Her silver eyes ached from searching the same worn paper. The door opened without a knock. Garrick Ironhand ducked under the frame, filling it. He was the blacksmith who had guarded her since she was small, stronger than three men, quiet as a shut forge. He set a hammer on the bench and studied her face. "You haven't slept," he said. "I can't build a refuge with no place to put it," Mallory answered. She spread her hand over the map. "Every valley here has a road. Every road has eyes." Garrick leaned over the paper. His scarred finger moved past the marked places, past the last road, to a blank stretch beyond the northern hills. "You keep looking where the ink is," he said. "Look where it isn't." Mallory stared at the empty space. No village. No trail. No name. "Because nobody goes there." "Nobody can," Garrick said. "The ridge above it drops straight down. One way in, through a gorge. A man could hold that gorge alone." Her pulse jumped. "You've been there." "Once. Years ago. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you living where I couldn't reach you fast." His jaw tightened. "But fast doesn't matter if they find you first." They left before dawn. The climb took the whole morning. Loose rock slid under their boots, and the gorge narrowed until Mallory could touch both walls at once. Then the walls opened. The hidden valley lay below, green and still. A stream cut through it. A single steep path was the only way down. Mallory saw at once that no road could ever reach this place. She stood at the edge and let out the breath she had held for weeks. "This is it," she said. "They'll never find them here." Garrick did not smile. He crouched and pressed his palm to the ground. "Feel that." A faint tremor ran through the stone. He pointed across the valley, where a dark seam split the far cliff. "The gorge is the only way in for us. It's not the only way in." Mallory followed his gaze to the black opening in the rock. Cold air breathed out of it. "Something already uses that," Garrick said. Mallory had found her site. Now she had to learn what shared it.