PROLOGUE

East of Horn Hill

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Ser Dontin Rowan held perfectly still in a crouched position and listened. He had been assigned the coveted third watch and the black sky had just begun to lighten into gray. Sight was still limited by the darkness, forcing Dontin to use his other senses. He heard nothing, but the sound of nothing at the edge of the mountains was not a good thing. He took a risk, set down his sword and slowly began removing his armor. He would never achieve stealth with so much metal weighing him down.

He managed to remove his pauldrons, greaves and chestplate while his helm and cuisses had remained in his tent. Now, his only armor were his forearm gauntlets and mail hood to help protect his head and neck. Relieved to have done this successfully and to have the heavy armor off in such heat, Ser Dontin grabbed his single-hand blade once more and began his quiet descent into the woods. His progress was so slow it was nearly painful, but he was able to keep silent as he made progress deeper into the growth. Even without all of his armor he was sweating but was finally rewarded with the sound of a rustle around twenty yards east of his position, while another small sound came from north of him. The sounds were of a being too large to be anything but human, and them being so far apart indicated several attackers. The knight wondered how to warn his fellow cavalrymen before the enemy was upon them.

Dontin began his quiet ascent from the woods, moving faster this time, the adrenaline from the imminent fight pushing him to move with haste. He blundered, stepping on a dry branch of which there were many this close to the deserts of Dorne, and the sound seemed to echo loudly. Realizing he may have just given his position away, Ser Dontin began to run and raised the alarm as he did so.

"Awake!" He yelled to his fellow knights and soldiers. "The enemy is upon us!"

The warning bell rung, he could hear his company raise arms in preparedness for the attack. The invaders gave up on their stealth and begun running full tilt, singing their battle cry. The clang of swords and the sound of arrows sent flying filled the pre-dawn air.

Ser Dontin had almost reached his abandoned armor when he heard the sound of pursuit close on his heels. He spun in time to parry the sword thrust to skewer his torso from behind. He could not see much of his attacker, which was covered in black cloth from head to toe, only his eyes and boots showing. The sword was obviously a Dornish blade and was coming at him again. Dodging the swing meant for his uncovered thigh, Ser Dontin of House Rowan, knighted by the king himself, swung his sword in a large clumsy arc from the right. His attacker went to easily dodge this attack and thrust into his opponent, but never had the chance. Before the Dornishman even saw the small dirk, the knight had stuck him in the neck with it, removing the blade as fast as it had pierced the unarmored man and letting him fall to the ground.

Dontin quickly checked the dying soldier for any information that could prove useful. All he found was a bag of silver and the sigil of the Flatland Sellswords. Dontin knew then that someone from Dorne had paid and armed these eastern sellswords and set them upon the companies guarding the border of The Reach. Whomever this citizen of Dorne was, their men were getting better weapons and pushing out farther each week.

He could tell by the sounds of the fighting that his countrymen were winning and the sellswords had begun their retreat. Dontin was ready to turn and give chase, hoping to catch one of the attackers and get him to answer the mighty question of which Dornishman had funded and armed them. Before Ser Dontin had taken two steps, a monstrous blow hit the back of his skull. He had half a second to think of the sister he had promised to come home to.

"Ren," he manage to whisper right before the nothingness swallowed him.

CHAPTER 1

Sandstone Manor

Arenna Rowan, or Ren as she preferred to be called, could not sleep once again. She was ever restless, whether it was morning, midday or night. Her days were currently filled with little womanly nothings that in no way tired her out enough to fall asleep easily. Before her brother Dontin had been knighted and sent to the borders of Dorne, he had snuck Ren off to go hunting or hawking during the day with him. Words could not describe how much she missed her brother or these days long past. It had been nearly a year since she had seen her brother and the letters sent home by raven or rider were too rare.

Ren let her mind wander; thinking about her sister Kiyanna currently residing with an aging husband in King's Landing or going over the fading memories of her mother who had died when Ren was 8. She looked at the engraved four-poster bed frame her mother had given her on Ren's 8th birthday.

"You are such a big girl now, my little Arenna. 'Tis time you had a bed fit for the lady you are."

The frame was carved with both the tree sigil from her father's family and the crane sigil from her mother's family. It was the Crane's sigil Ren stared at now. Seven cranes in flight all headed east. Now 17, Ren wondered not for the first time what it would be like to fly as a crane. She focused on the beautifully carved birds, imagining what flight felt like, what it would be like to have feathers and soar above the world. Caught in a trance, Ren could almost feel her wings and see through sharp eyes made to pick out prey from afar. Her breath became short gasps and sweat broke out upon her brow, but still she focused on the crane.

All of a sudden, the world shattered, broken into a million glittering pieces and then coalesced into something completely different. Gone were Arenna's light brown curls, gone were here green eyes flecked with gold, and gone was her fleshy skin.

Standing on her bed, Ren now only reached about 4 feet in height and had no arms. When she tried to stretch out her arms, gray and black wings stretched on either side of her vision. Her quiet cry of alarm was instead a high-pitched rattling, cementing her fear that something was extremely wrong. Terrified, Ren tried to jump off her bed and yell for her father who slept only two doors down the hall. Instead, her small body and long neck plummeted to the ground, tripped up by her sleeping garment which was not far too large for her frame. She tried to put out her arms to try to catch her fall, which instead put out wings, causing her to glide across the floor to the other side, landing in a tumble and freeing herself from her nightgown.

The noise did indeed wake her father and sent him running into the room. Faced with a large bird on the far side of the room and no sign of his daughter, Tobas Rowan began to search for his daughter.

"Arenna!" he called, searching the bed sheets.

"Father," Ren answered. "I am here." These were not the words that were to be heard, however, but instead a long chittering sound came for Ren's long throat. So scared was Ren that she plopped her body down and tried very hard not to cry.

After an unfruitful search of the room, Tobas paused to take a closer look at the bird who seemed ill on the floor of his daughter's bedroom, laying upon a nightgown. He realized a crane lay before him, a body of gray feathers and gray wings tipped with black. The green eyes flecked with gold that looked back at him from the crane's face he would know anywhere.

"Arenna?" It came out as a croak, the question nearly caught in his throat. A clattering sound is all that came from the crane, and for a moment, Tobas Rowan thought he had gone mad to even consider the old stories of his deceased wife's family could be true. That is, until the bird stopped making noises and dipped its head in a nod.

"Seven Gods," Tobas exclaimed quietly. "Is it truly you, Ren?" With another regal nod, Tobas realized the truth. His daughter had inherited the shape-shifting ability said to be handed down to woman of Crane blood. His wife had told him this stories laughingly, saying the Red Lake Castle was packed with Crane women not a one of which could shapeshift into anything but a resentful old crone.

As the shock wore off, Tobas realized his daughter was most likely terrified. Kneeling onto the ground, he asked her, "Can you change back, Ren?" The shake of her black and white head was expected. He carried his daughter-turned-crane to her bed and laid her there. Gently touching her head, he sang the Lullaby of Dragons - the song of Daenerys Stormborn and her her beloved dragons.

It took three times through all four verses before Ren began to calm and drift into sleep. Soon after consciousness faded from her, her body shifted and she became human once more.

The next day, was Ren was still nervous and confused. The King and Queen had allowed magic into Westeros, fostering its knowledge with guild offices in both King's Landing and Oldtown. Now those who wished to pursue the magical arts were able to provided they had the coin and the ability. Hereditary magics like Ren's were rare and had to be registered with the guild. Even with the world's knowledge and acceptance of magic, Ren was still in too much shock to fully absorb the fact that she was indeed a shape-changer.

"I have the ability to become a crane," she said to herself, hoping the knowledge would begin to take hold in her mind.

"Hush, child," Tobas said gently to his daughter though he was the only one in the solar with Ren, all servants currently banned from the room. He sat on the dining bench and gently grabbed his daughter's hand, saying quietly but with a small smile, "We do not want everyone to know what you are and what you can do. This is a coveted magic and there are those who would use you for their bidding and yet others who would see you slain for harnessing such ability. I will register you with the guild, but as it is a private registration and will only be known by the Maester of Magic and those on the small council, no one else need know."

Ren smiled at his protectiveness, if a little dramatic. Slain, indeed. "Of course, Father," she said almost dismissively. "Do you believe there are practitioners at the guild that may help me understand what is happening and teach me to control the shape-changing? It came to me unbidden and the next time I change, I would have it be because I wish it so."

Frustrated his daughter did not fully understand the threat to her, he gave her a more severe look. He stood then, pacing the length of the dining table in front of Ren. He spoke more to himself than to his daughter and in a harshly pensive tone, "If you spend time at the guild, your presence there will be marked. This is not the way to keep your ability secret."

"Is it really so necessary to keep the ability a secret? Is this danger you speak of real, Father?" His manner was reassuring one moment and caused her to tremble in the next. She had not thought she would be in any real danger and wondered at the harshness of the world she had not yet seen. She loathed to see her father burdened by this turn of events, hating even more that she was causing him strain.

Tobas stopped in front of his daughter then, maintaining his severe countenance the better to make her understand. "You do not know this world as I do, Arenna. You are a noble child of summer and peacetime; you know not what men are capable. You do not understand what one man will do to hold power over another. If one was to gain control of you, you could be used as so many things. A thief, a spy, a carrier, an assassin. You could gain entry into any stronghold, find anyone, escape anywhere."

Arenna Rowan was no fool. She understood that it was not just she who was in danger, but anyone she cared for. The best way to control someone was to promise punishment to the one's they loved, this was common knowledge and used constantly throughout history. The knowledge of her ability would put her father, her sister and both of her brothers at risk. Unconsciously, Ren grabbed for the necklace her elder brother Dontin and given her before he had left for the Red Mountains. The necklace was her favorite, made up of a long gold chain and pendant. The pendant was a gold circle with the Rowan House sigil within and threaded through the tree branches were small colorful stones Dontin and Ren had found near the river. Stone-hunting Dontin called it. This is what they did together when one needed the willing ear of the other.

Tobas was glad to see his words finally taking root. He did not wish to scare his child, but she needed to fully understand the importance of secrecy. He needed to ensure her silence to save her life and those of her siblings. His youngest son came in then with a servant close on his heels bearing morning ale and toasted bread for butter.

As his father ordered their morning meal, Ren thought how it was unfair that her father call her a child of summer, dismissing the two winters she had endured. Though those who had experienced the Long Night always described these winters as a mere "snowflake to the blizzards of before", Ren thought it unjust to imply she had never known hardship. The grounds had frozen over several times, halting the growth of crops for months at a time, as well as any travel. Ren had eaten bread and salted fish for days and had not been able to leave the house for two months straight. At seven, she remembered thinking it was the end of the world. After that, Tobas had the stores spelled to keep fresh anything within. Her second winter had been much different than the first.

Ren brought her wandering mind back to the solar at Sandstone Manner, so named for the type of stone Tobas had the builders use when erecting the manor house. This was before the Dornish rebellion when trade between the two kingdoms had been easy and inexpensive. Now, Ren heard her father and brother speaking about an ancient battle Decran and learned of the day before. Her brother Decran was a boy of fifteen and a scholar instead of a fighter. Where Ser Dontin Rowan had received the brawn and bravery, Decran, 7 years his junior, had received a love for knowledge and a thin body. Only slightly taller than Ren, Decran was also skinny and physically awkward. Though he had a confident air about him and loved a battle of wits, he could become excited and knock over a mug or trip over nothing at all. Though she did not want to, Ren resented Dontin his malehood. He could be a soldier if he wished it; he could hunt and fight without remark, yet did neither. Her jealousy made it difficult for Ren to love him as completely as she did Dontin, her sister Kiyanna and their father.

Noticing her silence, Decran sat across from Ren and asked her, "Have you gone mute, dear sister? No lively remarks this morning on my love for history? Do not you wish to offer some quip about my scholastic endeavors?"

Ren ignored this remarks, except for the part about scholastic endeavors. It was true that Decran knew more than anyone in the Manor house, apart from the Maester Cenare. "Would you tell me what you know of cranes, Deck? I saw some this morning and thought it odd they should be this far from the main part of the river." She glanced at her father quickly to see his reaction to her inquiry, but he only looked interested in the answer.

Taking some bread and buttering it, Decran told his sister, "Cranes are attracted to wetlands, and the streams and rivulets in the area could be attractive enough to them. Let us hope they do not try to walk the clay lake, that would end badly for them." Decran referred to a small lake at the base of the hills that had mostly dried up of water yet had left enough in the ground to create clay. At least a quarter of their fortune came from the pottery Sandstone produced.

Taking the time to eat and swallow a bit of his bread, Decran continued, "You will find them both in pairs and with a flock, depending on the season. They will eat anything from berries and roots to small animals. They are quite graceful, I think."

This description of cranes helped Ren not at all, and she wondered why she thought his knowledge of birds could help. What she needed to know was how to control the shift, how to fly, how to live as a shape-changer and not get caught. She knew Decran did not have these answers, and she wondered who could give them to her if she could not seek out the Magicians Guild. She realized then that the only ones she could seek out without raising remark were her mother's family. Perhaps some family records would have this information, or one of the relatives would know a story turned legend that no one else had knowledge of.

Unknowingly interrupting her brother who had been talking while she contemplated, Ren turned to her father and blurted, "I think I should visit Mother's family."