Memory of my mom’s last gift to me overpowers my thoughts. “Do you think we should open the tin my mother gave me now?”
“Your tin came with a hefty price. If we open it too soon, your mother said we would stray from the path of Light.”
“She’s said a lot of things—”
“Regardless of how cryptic she has been, she has always done what is in your best interest. Maybe mine, too.” Arland presses his lips to my forehead. “There will be a time when you know the tin needs to be opened, but now is not that time. You need to rest. Tomorrow will be a full day of scouting and fighting—assuming we find anything to fight.”
Arland turns onto his back, and I snuggle my head into the crook of his arm and chest.
“Do not give in so soon, Kate. We have a long way to go. And we know we will win.”
“But at what cost?”
“Sleep now. Worry later.” He drags his fingers through my hair.
I sigh and force the negative thoughts out of my head. We will get through this. We will win. No matter the cost. No matter how ha—
A twig snaps in the distance, making my skin jolt with awareness.
We’re not alone.
Chapter Nine
“Shouldn’t we wake everyone?” I ask, sneaking away from the sleeping soldiers. Arland and I are searching for whatever caused the noise, but I don’t like the idea of leaving the others here without them at least being aware.
He puts a finger to his lips.
“Magic?” My word is so quiet, I’m not sure if I even heard myself speak.
Arland shakes his head, drawing his sword from its sheath. He leans forward, weapon raised, gaze flitting around the dark woods. He’s a skilled hunter; I remember that from my dreams. And the way he moves, so slow, methodical—Arland’s like a tiger stalking his prey.
“Animal?”
The glare he casts over his shoulder is enough of an answer.
I stop following. I’m not the most agile of creatures in the thicket. I’m almost always tripping over fallen logs. If Arland is about to kill an animal, I’ll be a distraction.
Taking three graceful steps, Arland rushes for cover behind a tree. He places his back along the chipped bark then meets my eyes, wearing a smile saying he knows exactly what he’s doing. Arland turns, then thrusts his sword into the neck of a deer, and the animal falls.
I’m certain I’m not a hunter. Taking a life is hard, but I never even saw the deer until Arland struck it with his sword.
Kneeling, he stares at his kill.
“Get back to the others.” Arland’s tone is urgent but quiet.
I lean forward, afraid to take a step in either direction. I won’t leave Arland alone, but I don’t want to be too far away from the soldiers either. “What is it?”
“Shifter.” He gets to his feet and is by my side in an instant, worry marking his forehead. “Move quickly.”
We run through the underbrush that snags our leather pants every opportunity the prickly plants get, holding hands all the way. If that deer was a shifter, it knew where we are, which means the others know where we are.
“Why are they hiding?” I jump over a small tree trunk and snag my boot on a nub, but manage to keep my balance.
“I am not positive.” Arland looks over his shoulder, somehow maintaining his fast pace without falling. “But we are not being followed.”
“If daemons only do as instructed”—I duck to avoid a low-hanging branch—”and aren’t attacking us, then they aren’t supposed to. What do you think Dughbal is up to?”
Reaching the edge of the campsite, we stop. A faint, red glow emanates from the burning embers on the fire. If we weren’t on the run from evil, stumbling upon this scene might make me think a group of friends went camping and are resting for the night. Albeit oddly dressed friends. Most people don’t go hiking in armor.
Arland gives my hand a squeeze, drops it, then stalks toward a sleeping Cadman. “I intend to find out.”
“Kate?” Brit sits up and wraps her arms around her shins. “What’s
“Your tin came with a hefty price. If we open it too soon, your mother said we would stray from the path of Light.”
“She’s said a lot of things—”
“Regardless of how cryptic she has been, she has always done what is in your best interest. Maybe mine, too.” Arland presses his lips to my forehead. “There will be a time when you know the tin needs to be opened, but now is not that time. You need to rest. Tomorrow will be a full day of scouting and fighting—assuming we find anything to fight.”
Arland turns onto his back, and I snuggle my head into the crook of his arm and chest.
“Do not give in so soon, Kate. We have a long way to go. And we know we will win.”
“But at what cost?”
“Sleep now. Worry later.” He drags his fingers through my hair.
I sigh and force the negative thoughts out of my head. We will get through this. We will win. No matter the cost. No matter how ha—
A twig snaps in the distance, making my skin jolt with awareness.
We’re not alone.
Chapter Nine
“Shouldn’t we wake everyone?” I ask, sneaking away from the sleeping soldiers. Arland and I are searching for whatever caused the noise, but I don’t like the idea of leaving the others here without them at least being aware.
He puts a finger to his lips.
“Magic?” My word is so quiet, I’m not sure if I even heard myself speak.
Arland shakes his head, drawing his sword from its sheath. He leans forward, weapon raised, gaze flitting around the dark woods. He’s a skilled hunter; I remember that from my dreams. And the way he moves, so slow, methodical—Arland’s like a tiger stalking his prey.
“Animal?”
The glare he casts over his shoulder is enough of an answer.
I stop following. I’m not the most agile of creatures in the thicket. I’m almost always tripping over fallen logs. If Arland is about to kill an animal, I’ll be a distraction.
Taking three graceful steps, Arland rushes for cover behind a tree. He places his back along the chipped bark then meets my eyes, wearing a smile saying he knows exactly what he’s doing. Arland turns, then thrusts his sword into the neck of a deer, and the animal falls.
I’m certain I’m not a hunter. Taking a life is hard, but I never even saw the deer until Arland struck it with his sword.
Kneeling, he stares at his kill.
“Get back to the others.” Arland’s tone is urgent but quiet.
I lean forward, afraid to take a step in either direction. I won’t leave Arland alone, but I don’t want to be too far away from the soldiers either. “What is it?”
“Shifter.” He gets to his feet and is by my side in an instant, worry marking his forehead. “Move quickly.”
We run through the underbrush that snags our leather pants every opportunity the prickly plants get, holding hands all the way. If that deer was a shifter, it knew where we are, which means the others know where we are.
“Why are they hiding?” I jump over a small tree trunk and snag my boot on a nub, but manage to keep my balance.
“I am not positive.” Arland looks over his shoulder, somehow maintaining his fast pace without falling. “But we are not being followed.”
“If daemons only do as instructed”—I duck to avoid a low-hanging branch—”and aren’t attacking us, then they aren’t supposed to. What do you think Dughbal is up to?”
Reaching the edge of the campsite, we stop. A faint, red glow emanates from the burning embers on the fire. If we weren’t on the run from evil, stumbling upon this scene might make me think a group of friends went camping and are resting for the night. Albeit oddly dressed friends. Most people don’t go hiking in armor.
Arland gives my hand a squeeze, drops it, then stalks toward a sleeping Cadman. “I intend to find out.”
“Kate?” Brit sits up and wraps her arms around her shins. “What’s
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