Valley of Embers (The Landkist Saga Book 1) by Steven Kelliher

no response to that.
    Baas clapped once, loudly, and rose, the bench sighing in relief. He slapped Nathen Swell on the back and nearly drove the wind from him before heading toward the door, leaving the others stunned. As he walked past Linn, she grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him.
    “You will not come?” she asked, eyes shining.
    Baas blushed.
    “I will come,” he said, turning to look at the others. “Was that not obvious?”
    He smiled warmly at Linn before shouldering a stone-crusted shield that must have weighed as much as him and heading out onto the road, the pink light of the half-day filtering in behind him.
    Nathen nodded to Linn and Jenk, boyish features hardening as he tried to match the mood of the room.
    “I don’t imagine you’d get too far in the woods without me,” he said, patting Linn on the shoulder with a wink as he followed the Riverman.
    Kaya looked unsteady and nervous. She kept switching her gaze from Jenk to Linn and back, unsure what to do and unwilling to commit. With a huff, she shouldered past Linn, the twins following in her wake. While Fihn looked miserable as ever, Taei looked reluctant, even apologetic, as he showed them his back.
    Larren straightened and moved to the front of the room, Jenk following his progress. The Second Keeper stopped between them and looked at both, his expression stern as ever, but Linn sensed a touch of unease that made her distinctly uncomfortable.
    “What we plan to do is no small thing,” he said.
    Linn and Jenk looked at one another before turning back to the Ember.
    “Nor does it leave Last Lake in an enviable position,” he continued. “Still, I have had the same thoughts these last few years. No matter what lies in the passes—be it an ailing power we once counted as friend or the agents of one who has long been the scourge of our people, we have a duty to find out.” He looked at Linn. “The burden is not yours to bear alone.”
    Jenk’s sense of relief was as obvious as the sigh he expelled. Linn’s was masked, but no less profound. Her knees felt weak. Larren Holspahr was as close to a legend as you could get in the Valley, an Ember of rare power and perhaps the most skilled combatant she had ever seen. Even as she felt the one weight lift off of her shoulders, however, she felt another press down, and had to admit that there had been a part of her hoping Holspahr would be the one to talk some sense into her.
    Whatever might come, their path was now set.
    “I will leave correspondence with a trusted guard,” Larren said, oblivious to Linn’s swirling psyche. “Tu’Ren and the other defenders will know precisely where we have gone and when we plan to return. That should give them some basis by which to formulate a proper defense.”
    The Ember started for the door, grabbing his spear, which nearly scraped the ceiling. “Let us hope that the attacks diminish with the coming of longer days.” He turned back once more with the door half-cocked. “And let us pray that they are not fool enough to follow us.”
    The green door closed with a scrape, and they heard the clink of the butt of Larren’s spear on the cobbles as he retreated into the morning light.
    “I think I’ll be praying that we’re lucky enough to return,” Jenk said, getting to his feet, much to the delight of Towles, who busied himself pretending to clean the place where he had just been.
    Jenk extended his hand, and Linn took it, their eyes meeting through the mist.
    “You’ve pushed us onto the right path, Ve’Ran. The only one there was, I expect.”
    Linn tried to feel proud of what she had accomplished, convincing even half of the assembled warriors to join her. But Kole’s inhuman screams still echoed in her mind, the Ember crying out from his tower with nothing but a worried father and the salt of her sister’s tears for company.
    “Next moon, then,” she said, her usual calm returning like a familiar cloak as she made for the door, grabbing