Tsuta was mesmerized by a hummingbird flitting among the blossoms of a large trumpet vine growing below the overlook when Usha burst around the corner, out of breath.

  “Raven! What are you doing here? What’s the matter?”

  Raven was the nickname Tsuta had given Usha due to her black glossy hair – unusual for a dwarf.

  “Abbey attacked...fire…many dead,” she spat out between deep gulps of air, her hands braced against her knees as she doubled over from exertion. In only her fourth week, Usha and the other initiates hadn’t yet completed the rigorous physical training that was the cornerstone of Sifu’s curriculum.

  Tsuta handed her his waterskin, and she drank greedily, catching him up on the attack, the situation at the abbey, and her instructions to retrieve those on watch at the Beacons in between swallows. Her hands shook as she spoke.

  The poor girl is panicking. Not surprising, given what she just experienced. He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s okay… Breathe… We’ll be all right. Sounds like the immediate danger has passed. To master your Ki, you’ve got to stay in control. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

  His calm tone and reminder of their core teaching helped Usha regain composure. She drew a deep breath, cheeks ballooning in a long audible exhale. Tsuta slung his pack over his shoulder and grabbed his staff but paused before turning the corner to the descending stairs.

  Realizing he had stopped, Usha turned to see him drop his things and move across the yard to the Beacon. Reaching down, he picked up two logs and a blue sphere and tossed them into the fire. Holding her gaze, he said:

  “We can’t forget our duty. Dangerous creatures have breached the pass, everyone needs to know.”

  Her eyes followed as he gazed skyward. A thick ribbon of blue smoke began to ascend almost immediately from the chimney. Though she knew how the beacons operated, this was the first time Usha had seen one of the flares in action. The column of dark blue rose rapidly, straight as an arrow, unaffected by the breeze. Wrapped in a faint glow, it gave off more luminescence than she expected against the late afternoon overcast. They watched silently for several seconds before Tsuta’s voice brought her back to the moment.

  “I always wondered how the flares could be seen at night,” he muttered idly, almost to himself. “There must be a light spell included in the incantation – see how the smoke glows?” He retrieved his pack and staff. “Let’s go get the others.”

  Quickly descending from the beacon’s plateau, dwarf and elf pushed southeast toward their first destination – the central outpost. Tsuta knew the terrain well and took the lead, threading them three miles through the foothills of the Glimmerstones. Constantly visible in the distance on their left, the stone structure of the Luminarium sighed a continuous thin trail of black smoke. The bald elf probed the initiate for more information as they walked.

  “Tell me about the creatures that attacked us. How many? Did anyone recognize what they were?”

  “No one could name them.” Her voice wavered, barely audible. Her gaze stayed fixed on his heels. “There were two, and they must have been close to seven feet tall or more, slim build, almost like they were starving- skin stretched over bone, it didn’t look natural… and they had a big hook sticking out of the tops of their heads.” Her voice broke. “With wicked-looking claws on their hands and feet, and a long tail with a spike at the end.”

  “You’re doing great,” Tsuta reassured her. “I know reliving the moment is the last thing you want to do, but it’s important. Did they use weapons or magic?”

  “I didn’t see any weapons, so I guess magic since they also set the whole abbey on fire.”

  Tsuta nodded almost imperceptibly in agreement before adding:

  “There had to be more than two if no one was left alive to tell us about it. That means there are others still out there somewhere. So, the question is – what were they after and where did they go?”

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  By the time they reached the base of the stairs at the central outpost, the late afternoon sun had broken through the cloud cover. Tsuta paused to wipe the light sweat off his bald head. Usha, however, was not in the same physical shape as the elf. Plopping herself unceremoniously on the bottom stair, she lowered her head between her knees and sucked in several long breaths.

  “Tell you what, Raven,” he said. “We don’t both need to go up there. You stay here and catch your breath; I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  The dwarf raised her head momentarily to meet his gaze with a look of unspoken gratitude. Wordlessly nodding and closing her eyes, she propped herself against the plateau’s cool stone face as he moved past her and headed up the stairs to the outpost.

  More questions swirled around his brain as he began the climb. Questions he kept to himself given the fragile state of his traveling companion. Something didn’t add up. If they came from the east, why had there been no warning? Had Shan already fallen? He turned the problem over in his mind as he ascended. But if they came from Siremiria, surely one of the outposts would have already sent a flare. Someone, somewhere, must have seen them coming. His thoughts turned to the creatures themselves. Easily the most traveled among the abbey’s monks, he’d never encountered or even heard of something matching Usha’s description. Hooks on their heads?

  Although the outposts were identical in layout and construction, the contrast with the one he had just left was obvious as he reached the plateau. The smell of wood smoke hung heavily in the air, its haze shrouding the plateau. Tsuta froze as his gaze fell upon the charred cabin’s remains. His grip on the staff tightened. To his left, the beacon was a pile of smoldering bricks and rubble. A familiar tingle of apprehension raced up his spine. He called out tentatively to the monks supposedly on duty. No reply. Holding his breath, he silently stepped around the front of the shelter’s remains to the overlook, staff at the ready. Scanning the interior, expecting corpses, his focus moved quickly through the discernable shapes - a blackened oil lamp, the remains of the meditation mat. Empty. Where are they?

  Looping around the blackened hull, he cautiously inspected the beacon yard. Probing with the butt of his staff through the rubble of bricks, mortar, and smoldering coals he found no sign of the occupants. The woodpile had been toppled; logs splayed across the ground. What’s this? The rear of the clearing behind the beacon was teeming with ladybugs. Hundreds of them, writhing and climbing over each other in reckless abandon, blanketed the ground and the lower limbs of the trees framing the yard. That’s odd. The cry of a lone hawk from the next ridge startled him back into the moment. Overall, consistency with Usha’s account of the abbey attack suggested the hook-headed creatures had also been here, but where were his brothers?

  Puzzled, Tsuta returned to the overlook. Automatically falling into the watch routine – scan the pass, the mountainside, the peaks – he was desperate for any clue to understand how the outpost had been breached. Oh no. His head swam. A wave of nausea swept over him as he braced himself against the railing. Directly below the overlook, two bodies in the white robes of the Luminarium lay twisted into unnatural positions, blood splattered across the rocky precipice that became their final resting place. He touched his Ki to regain focus as he took in the scene more rationally. It was what he didn’t see that the elf found most curious. Turning to the shelter’s footprint, he carefully picked through the rubble until he found them- the charred remains of two staves he knew to be the standard oaken issue of the Luminarium. How were they set upon so quickly that they didn’t even have time to grab their weapons?

  Pivoting once again to the overlook, Tsuta studied its stone construction for any sign of a fight. Not a fresh gouge or even a scratch to suggest a struggle. Whatever happened here took the monks entirely by surprise. Something had thrown them from the overlook. No chance they jumped. Either way, he and Usha needed to get to the southern outpost immediately, before darkness fell. Bundling the two blackened staves with his own, Tsuta raced down the stairs back toward the resting dwarf below.

  Usha felt the vibrations of his return as she caught her breath, her dwarven senses finely attuned to stone and all its characteristics. Only one person and moving quickly - that can’t be good. She rose and turned to face the stairs just as Tsuta came around the corner into view.

  “We gotta go, Raven!” he shouted as he closed the distance between them.

  “Why? Where are the others?” She asked, somewhat confused.

  “Dead. We’ve got to get to the southern Beacon before we lose daylight. We’ll need to run.” He had come to a halt beside her.

  Usha began to protest. “But I don’t think I can…”

  Before she could finish the sentence, Tsuta muttered some words she didn’t understand, and his left hand began to glow and crackle. He had anticipated her exhaustion. Placing his hand on her shoulder, the dwarf drew in a sharp breath as the healing magic coursed through her. The cold rush was pure exhilaration. Instantly, the ache in her legs and the burning in her lungs vanished. An unconscious laugh escaped her lips from the unexpected euphoria. She felt fresh from a full night’s rest. Incredible! She had never been the recipient of magic before.

  “Better?” He asked, holding her gaze.

  “Wow. Yeah, I’m good!” she nodded, still grinning.

  With that, the two hurried into the lengthening shadows towards the southern outpost, the dwarf quietly giggling, buoyed by the cascading warmth of his spell.