I was happy the fog didn’t lift until I was far from the city, but it wasn’t enough to quell my growing anxiety. It was hard to say what bothered me more. Were inquisitors already whispering my name in dark halls? Or was the greater danger still ahead, hidden in the tangled depths of the mountains?

  I walked without stopping, the ndscape shifting from open fields to dense, towering pines. By evening, my legs burned, and I stumbled into a quiet gde. The ground was soft with fallen leaves, the scent of damp earth thick in the air. I sat, eating in silence, ears straining for sounds beyond the rustling branches. There was no sign of anyone on the old trail all day, but I still couldn’t be certain I wasn’t followed.

  The old schor could have betrayed me, or the foreman could have forced Amelia to give me away. So I didn’t set up a camp or fire. I didn’t even really unpack in case I needed to make a quick getaway.

  As I fell asleep on a bed of dry leaves the sounds of critters in the brush grew louder. I gripped my shortsword and considered starting a fire but exhaustion took me and I drifted off to sleep.

  Just before dawn I was jolted awake by a sharp pain in my leg. A low growl, hot breath—then teeth, sinking deep into my calf.

  I kicked out instinctively, but the jackal only cmped down harder. Snarling, I drove the butt of my sword into its skull. It yelped and sprang back, but the fight wasn’t over.

  I was given no relief as a sharp bark assaulted my right ear followed by a snap a mere inch from my face.

  I lurched upright. Six jackals cloaked in the essence of the night growled and snapped at me from all sides. Their features were difficult to discern in the shifting shadows save their eyes, which burned sharp and red.

  I dropped the short sword to free both hands for the quarterstaff. I wasted no time and jabbed the nearest creature before smming another to the ground with a wide swing. I spun ‘round and took another swing, narrowly missing the noses of three. I yelled and roared, scaring a few back.

  Teeth grazed my heel—I spun, striking fast. The jackal yelped and darted off. Instinct drove me after it. I had never encountered shadow beasts but I knew from stories that they only yielded to strength. If I wanted them gone, I couldn’t just fight. I had to make them believe they were prey.

  At first, they didn’t scatter. I chased one, but the others closed in. Then I turned, teeth bared, roaring as I swung. One went down hard—and stayed down. I pnted my feet over the body, meeting their eyes, daring them. One by one, they slunk back into the mist, whining like beaten curs.

  I looked at the jackal at my feet. I felt a sense of shame as the shadows slipped into the soil, revealing the furry dog-like creature. I didn’t really want to kill it, but I guess I had no choice. I pced ft stones over its eyes and prayed that it might find peace beyond death.

  I was right to keep my pack close for everything was left untouched. I did my best to clean and bind my wound with my extra shirt. Fortunately I could walk with only minor pain, but I’d need to get to a mediciner soon. Would a vilge as remote as Itán even have one?

  I trekked up higher and higher into the mountains. The cool autumn air revitalized me with every breath. I came to a vista to the west, looking over my previous journey. The trees burned with red and yellow leaves in the afternoon light.

  It took me a moment to find Castletún in the ndscape below. I spotted it quite near the horizon. Not much more than a grey splotch on the tawny fields. I always thought the castle to be one of the greatest monuments of both man and nature but from up here it seemed nothing more than a pebble on the side of the road.

  The underbrush rustled—something big. I should have ignored it, but curiosity won out. I followed the noise to an embankment, where a massive wolf, wreathed in shifting shadows, stalked a trembling tabby.

  The cat hissed, fur bristling, but the wolf just circled, waiting for its moment. I reached for my sword, but my leg throbbed in protest. The wolf had not yet noticed me. I’d do best if I made my way and left these creatures to their wild fate.

  That would be best but it was no use, for I had seen the cat’s eyes, wide and pleading. I would not permit him any harm. I drew my shortsword and drove it into the shifting bck mass. The beast’s body wasn’t as rge as the shadows made it appear, but my bde found its flesh.

  The beast shrieked as I pressed the bde in deep, shadows writhing around it as I drove it deeper. Then they surged up my arm—cold, clinging. I ripped free, but too te. The beast twisted, knocking me to the ground.

  Teeth bared, breath hot on my throat—then light. A blinding violet fsh. The wolf reeled. I struck out, kicking it off me, scrambling to my feet.

  The beast circled, unfazed. The sword hilt barely peeked from its shifting darkness. I lunged, quarterstaff swinging for its head. It caught the wood in its jaws, shaking violently.

  I twisted, yanked it free, then struck hard—once to the skull, then again to the hilt like a hammer to a nail.

  The wolf howled and bolted.

  “These beasts just don’t know when to give up,” I said looking around. Of course the tabby was nowhere to be seen. It likely made the wise decision of running at its first opportunity.

  I walked aimlessly into the wood, the thrill of battle still coursing through my veins. It didn’t really take long at all for my heart to settle and for the horrible truth to set in. I made it through the fight more or less unscathed, but I had lost all sense of where the trail was.

  I whipped my gaze from side to side, sprinting one way, then the other. My heart pounded, the rhythm of battle surging back—but this time, my enemy wasn’t something I could cut down with a sword. It was my own failing memory and the spirit of this endless wood.

  I tried to retrace my steps to the embankment. From there I could follow the freshly broken path the wolf made as it chased the tabby, but it was no use. I found neither the embankment, nor the trail. I was truly and thoroughly lost.

  As night fell I id myself down in the crook of a tree. I checked my wounded leg. Fortunately there was no stench of rot, but unfortunately the bleeding had not stopped. It would only be a matter of time.

  What a sad way to go. Wandering in the wilderness because an old schor told me I might find some magic. I guess it was a longshot to begin with. Was there even ever such a thing? And why would the inquisition want to do away with it anyway? It seemed like such a wonderful thing.

  A pale, purple light appeared before me much like the one during the fight with the wolf, but much less bright. It floated in front of me as though a star had drifted down between the branches of the trees to meet me at eye level. I was a little frightened, but mostly unsure. Was I really seeing this light or was I already fading into the delirium that so often takes those about to lose their life.

  The light drifted away from me a few yards then stopped. It shook and chimed like a bell. I had the sense it was beckoning me. Since I was probably doomed anyway, I decided to follow it. At least I wouldn’t die with an unsatisfied curiosity.

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