They left the narrow mountain paths for dense forest trails. Fin glanced at Lina, his brow furrowed. Sofia studied her openly, while Galdreth looked away whenever she caught his eye.
Lina hunched her shoulders. The elevation or the company—she couldn't tell—but each breath felt shallow and tight. The farther they pushed into the woods, the fewer travelers they saw.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the trails were empty.
"Time to make camp," Fin said.
They dismounted. Fin helped Lina down while Galdreth took Chewy's reins. She pressed her fingers against her splinted arm, biting her lip as she waited.
Nothing. No pain.
She blinked rapidly. The absence left her disoriented, as though she'd reached for something familiar and found only empty space. A memory flickered just beyond her grasp.
Something had changed. She was sure of it.
This should hurt. I should hurt.
"No!" Sofia cried.
Galdreth turned, Chewy's saddle in his hands. "What?"
"Put that back. We can't camp here."
"What's wrong, Sofia?" Fin asked.
She pointed toward a barren patch of woods. Trees had burned down to stumps, and the soil was black as obsidian.
"Sofia…"
"Look closer."
Fin stepped toward the scorched ground, but she caught his arm and shook her head.
Uneven mounds dotted the clearing. Shallow graves. The soil hadn't been dug open, only disturbed, as though something beneath it had tried to move and stopped.
Lina's breath caught. For a moment, she remembered blood filling her mouth, the desperate effort to draw air. Her chest tightened, and her eyes stung.
Then the memory slipped away.
The others recoiled. Lina stood still, waiting for the feeling to return.
"This wasn't here before." Sofia released Fin's arm and went back to her horse.
Galdreth replaced Chewy's saddle, then helped Lina mount.
"We won't get far tonight," Fin said.
"Far enough." Sofia nudged her horse into a trot.
"We can't avoid it forever. Not where we're headed."
Lina watched the graves disappear between the trees.
"Sofia, it's war," Fin continued. "Things will get worse before they get better."
"Yes, Fin. But I'll feel safer when we reach our destination."
"Why is she so uneasy?" Lina asked.
Galdreth opened his mouth, then closed it. He stared at her.
"You want to sleep beside graves when the enemy is a necromancer?" Sofia asked.
Enemy?
"What does the war have to do with us?"
"The undead were in your home, Lina."
"I see."
"Do you?"
"Leave her, Sofia," Fin said. "She hit her head hard."
Lina thought back to the charred ground. The memory of dying had frightened her, but the graves themselves meant little. She knew what lay beneath them. She knew what might climb out.
It still felt far away.
She flexed the fingers of her injured arm.
Why didn't it hurt?
"Neither kingdom is protecting its people," Sofia said. "They can't control this war, and civilians are paying for it."
For a while, only the horses' hooves broke the silence.
"This is far enough," Fin announced when they reached another clearing.
Sofia dismounted. "You know I'm right."
"I know."
Fin began untacking his horse. Lina slid down from Chewy and tried to loosen the girth one-handed. After watching her struggle, he came over to help.
"…your arm?"
She glanced back along the trail. The soil beside it looked churned, as though something had moved beneath the surface. She couldn't tell how much of it came from their horses.
"Lina?"
She turned to Fin. "What?"
"I asked how your arm was."
"It's fine."
Sofia scoffed.
Lina lowered her eyes to the splint. The war. The graves. Her injury. Each seemed to matter desperately to everyone around her. She understood the words, but they struck something inside her and went no farther.
It all should have mattered more.
None of it did.