Dawn arrived reluctantly.
A cold gray light seeped through the towering pines, washing the Whispering Woods in pale mist. The night's silence had given way to birdsong, but Darian found little comfort in it. Every rustle among the trees reminded him of the Shadow Hounds and the way they had stared at him before disappearing into the darkness.
He still couldn't understand it.
They should have killed him.
Instead...
They had simply walked away.
Ahead of him, Serenya walked with steady purpose, her hood pulled low over her face. She hadn't spoken since they left the river, but Darian noticed how often she glanced over her shoulder. She wasn't looking at him.
She was watching the forest.
As if expecting something to emerge from it.
Finally, she stopped.
"Tell me the truth."
Darian blinked.
"About what?"
"The Shadow Hounds."
He frowned.
"What about them?"
"They surrounded us."
"They almost attacked."
"They did more than that," Serenya replied quietly. "They stopped."
The memory sent a chill through him.
"I know."
She folded her arms across her chest.
"They don't retreat."
"I've been wondering the same thing."
His hand drifted unconsciously toward the sealed letter beneath his tunic.
"They looked at me..."
He hesitated.
"...like they knew me."
Serenya studied him for a long moment.
"They weren't looking at you."
"Then what?"
"They were searching for something."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally Serenya spoke again.
"Whatever Rowan entrusted to you... people are already dying for it."
Her voice was calm, but the weight behind her words settled heavily upon Darian's shoulders.
"Until we know what that letter truly contains, we cannot afford to make mistakes."
Darian nodded slowly.
For the first time since leaving Ironholt, he realized this journey had never been about him.
It had always been about the letter.
By midmorning the forest began to thin.
The trees gave way to rolling hills covered in wildflowers and tall grass dancing beneath the breeze.
Nestled between two low ridges stood a small village.
Stone cottages lined a winding dirt road, their chimneys sending ribbons of smoke into the morning sky. Farmers tended small gardens while children chased one another through muddy lanes.
The smell of fresh bread drifted through the air.
Darian almost smiled.
"It looks peaceful."
"It looks vulnerable," Serenya corrected.
She scanned the village carefully before lowering her voice.
"We stop only long enough to gather supplies."
"And then?"
"We leave."
"No breakfast?"
She gave him a sideways glance.
"If you're captured, you can ask the soldiers for breakfast."
Darian sighed.
"I liked you better when you weren't making jokes."
"I wasn't."
They entered the village with their heads lowered.
No one paid them much attention.
Travelers passed through Ashbrook often, and two road-weary strangers attracted little interest.
For the first time in days, Darian allowed himself to breathe.
Then he saw it.
At the center of the square stood an old wooden notice board.
Several fresh parchments had been nailed to it.
His feet stopped moving.
The largest notice bore the likeness of Sir Rowan.
Across the top, written in bold black ink, were the words:
SIR ROWAN VANCE
WANTED FOR TREASON AGAINST THE CROWN
Below it hung another sketch.
Cruder.
Less detailed.
But unmistakably meant to resemble him.
The description beneath read:
UNKNOWN MALE
WANTED FOR QUESTIONING
A reward had already been offered.
Darian felt his stomach tighten.
"They found me."
Serenya followed his gaze.
"They found Rowan."
She lowered her voice.
"And now they're looking for whoever escaped with him."
She gently pulled him away from the notice board before anyone noticed them staring.
"Keep walking."
They stopped outside a small apothecary.
Bundles of herbs hung from the doorway, filling the air with the scent of mint and lavender.
An elderly woman looked up from her counter.
"Travelers?"
Serenya offered a polite nod.
"We need dried meat, water, bandages, and herbs for the road."
The old woman smiled kindly.
"Long journey?"
"Long enough."
She disappeared into the back room.
Darian finally released the breath he'd been holding.
Then the shop door opened.
Two soldiers stepped inside.
Their black tabards bore the wolf emblem of Valebright's garrison.
"Morning," one of them said.
"We're searching for two fugitives."
Darian's heartbeat quickened.
The second soldier unfolded a wanted notice.
"Young man."
"Cloaked woman."
"Have you seen anyone matching these descriptions?"
The shopkeeper glanced toward Darian and Serenya.
For one terrifying heartbeat...
No one spoke.
Then the old woman laughed.
"Those two?"
She waved dismissively.
"They're merchants from the southern road."
Her eyes settled on Darian.
"The boy looks like he'd drop his basket if someone handed him a sword."
The soldiers chuckled.
One slapped Darian lightly on the shoulder.
"Count yourself lucky."
"I'd rather carry grain than chase traitors."
Darian forced an awkward smile.
"I couldn't agree more."
Apparently satisfied, the soldiers nodded politely and left the shop.
Only after the sound of their boots disappeared did Darian realize his palms were soaked with sweat.
The old woman returned with a bundle of supplies.
"You should leave before the next patrol arrives."
Serenya gave a respectful nod.
"Our thanks."
They crossed the village square without speaking.
Almost beyond the last cottage...
Darian felt it.
Someone was watching.
He turned.
A lone hooded traveler stood beneath the awning of a deserted blacksmith's shop.
Unlike the villagers, he wasn't pretending to be busy.
He simply watched.
His face remained hidden beneath his hood.
When Darian's eyes met his...
The stranger smiled.
Not warmly.
Knowingly.
Then he stepped into the crowd.
Within seconds...
He was gone.
Darian stopped walking.
"Serenya."
She looked back immediately.
"What is it?"
"I think someone was following us."
Her expression became serious.
"Where?"
"There."
He pointed toward the marketplace.
Only villagers remained.
The stranger had vanished.
Serenya searched the crowd for several moments before speaking.
"We're no longer being hunted by soldiers."
She adjusted the strap of her pack and turned toward the eastern road.
"Someone else has taken up the trail."
Darian looked back one final time.
The square appeared perfectly ordinary.
Children laughed.
Merchants shouted.
Life continued as though nothing had happened.
Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that unseen eyes still followed every step he took.
Without another word, he hurried after Serenya.
Neither of them noticed the black raven perched atop the village bell tower.
Watching them leave.
Waiting.