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“Woody,” Suljagar called, “come with me.”
Li Yuan followed. They slipped out of the crowd and into the main tent. Suljagar shooed the women inside away, then patted a broad chair, brushing warm furs smooth.
“Sit.”
“Yes, sir.” Li Yuan sat.
Suljagar rested an elbow on the fur-draped chair, his other hand lazily propping up his chin, his polished bone crown reflected the warm glow of the bonfire outside. A flicker of amusement crossed his face.
“Snow, like most of our people, knows almost nothing about the world beyond the ice. I, however, wandered outside when I was young and even spent two years with a martial sect. So, spare me the tale that you’re some hunter’s son.”
The two men locked eyes for several seconds.
“But I am Snow’s man,” Li Yuan replied.
“What is it you really want?”
“I want to enter the Deathless Tomb.”
“If that’s all, it can be arranged.” Suljagar filled a horn cup with a milky...
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