“Ban, it’s so dark,” Tomn whispered, his voice edged with panic. He’d never been out in the woods at night before, not without a lantern or a torch.
“We’ll be all right,” Thealos assured him, maneuvering around a slanted boulder. Tomn stumbled, but Thealos caught him and helped him gain his feet. The maple trees were huge and twisted, their branches interlocking and blotting out the sky and stars. The blue glow of Eroth peeked through the gaps of leaves and branches providing just enough light for Thealos.
“Do you…do you think the Sinew dragon is dead?” Tomn asked worriedly.
“Yes,” Thealos replied with confidence in his voice. “Stop here a moment. I need to get another bearing.” He lowered his cowl and heard the wind rustling the leaves, Tomn’s ragged breathing, the shrill call of an owl. No sounds of pursuit. Thealos was grateful for every moment, though he was not truly concerned about their ability to find him in the dark. He just didn’t want to hurry.
Kneeling in the damp earth, Thealos closed his eyes and plunged his hands into the gritty mud. Tomn huffed from the journey. Thealos listened patiently, feeling through the inky swirls of Forbidden magic staining the mud, a magic that had scarred the land and destroyed the trees and life within the small forest. If the Sinew dragon was dead, the land would finally begin drinking from the Earth magic again. Then it would regain its health. His fingers went quickly numb from the cold mud, but he probed deeper, trying to feel the right pulse. He wasn’t searching for Earth magic or Forbidden magic. He looked for something else. He heard it then, faintly, beckoning him nearer to the river. Silvan magic – the kind that the Crimson Wolfsmen had. It was a chord of purity in the darkness. He smiled and opened his eyes.
“Did you find it? Is it…singing to you, Thealos?”
Thealos wiped his hands on his pants and nodded. “We’re close, Tomn.”
As they started into the trees once more, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. It was barely a shadow, something blacker than the woods. Whirling, he slipped out his small hunting bow, an arrow at the ready. A feeling prickled on the back of his neck, going straight down his spine. He didn’t see anything. But he knew something was there – watching him.
“What is it?” Tomn gasped, drawing a dagger from his belt.
“I saw something,” Thealos said, certain of it. He studied the darkness, scanning the stretch of gnarled maple trees to his left and right. He saw Tomn as clearly as a camp fire in the middle of a field. Breathing slowly, he let his vision drift, trying to catch another glimpse of that puzzling movement. Where was it? He knew something was in the forest with them. Fear bloomed in his stomach.
“Maybe it’s Cropper,” Tomn whispered. “He’s good at sneaking around.”
Thealos remembered this feeling. It had happened in the streets of Dos-Aralon. It was happening again.
“I don’t think so. Follow me, quickly.”
Thealos pressed deeper into the maze of gullies and washes. His bow was ready. In the distance, he could hear the gentle rush of the river. Risking a backward glance, he tried to see what was stalking them. Had it followed him all the way from the human city? Or was it just now finding him again? Thealos didn’t know what it was. But he felt it, a presence in the darkness. Something living but that couldn’t be seen by a Shae. It terrified him that something like that could exist.
“Ban it,” Tomn cursed, stumbling in a rut and landing on his arms. He massaged his elbows and righted himself. They crossed a thin grove, hopping over a small ravine to the other side. Each step brought them closer to the churning murmur of the river.
Then Thealos heard the noise in the distance. Tannon’s camp had been roused. A cry of alarm went up, followed by shouts and curses. Thealos squeezed his eyes shut and nearly swore in frustration. They were so close he could feel the Silvan magic beneath his boots. Without his money, without his dagger, he needed the weapon that the Crimson Wolfsman had trusted to save him from the Sinew dragon. The trust had failed, but he knew the magic was waiting, dormant. He could taste it in the air now, a coppery flavor of metal and fire.
“I told you! I warned you Tannon, but you wouldn’t listen to me!” It was Cropper’s voice, bitter and angry and distant.
“Find them,” the angry leader roared. “Find them both!”
Tomn’s voice was a frantic whisper. “Are we almost there? They’re as mad…”
“We’re close,” Thealos promised, scanning the trees ahead. Rising from the gully ahead of him, Thealos caught the glimmer of cool blue light. It was dim – so faint it could have been the moon reflecting in a pond. But the light caught his eyes and held them. He crushed the urge to dash forward and approached cautiously. The glow did not change.
“There! Do you see it, Tomn?” he asked, pointing towards the light.
Tomn squinted. “See what?”