The eerie silence presses against my ears as we approach the farm, a sense of wrongness permeating the air. Broken fences and trampled grass tell a story of intrusion and violence. I exchange a glance with Misty, her fur standing on end, a low growl rumbling in her throat.

  "Stay alert," I murmur, nocking an arrow. "Something's not right."

  Misty slinks ahead, her lithe form melting into the shadows. I strain my senses, searching for any hint of movement or sound. The weight of my bow is reassuring in my hands, a familiar anchor in this sea of uncertainty.

  Suddenly, Misty's voice echoes in my mind. ‘Movement near the farmhouse. Four, maybe five men.’

  My heart clenches. ‘Naomi, Joel... please be safe.’

  A faint, desperate barking reaches my ears, and I turn to see a thin trail of smoke rising from the direction of the barn. Another wisp curls up from the crossroads, an ominous beacon.

  "Wren," I breathe, recognising the dog's distress. "Elara, this isn’t good. Misty reports four or five unknowns around the farm."

  I fight the urge to rush in, knowing that caution is our ally. Yet the thought of Joel’s family at the mercy of these brigands... Let alone what Naomi might be going through.

  "Del, look." Elara’s voice is sharp, urgent.

  I follow her gaze to see a lone figure emerging from the treeline, heading towards the farm. The glint of a blade at their hip sends a chill down my spine.

  "A lookout," I realise, my mind racing. "If we take them out quietly, we might be able to get closer without being spotted."

  Misty's voice snarls with predatory intent. ‘Leave that to me.’

  As she vanishes into the undergrowth, I draw a steadying breath, forcing down the rising tide of panic. We've faced worse odds before, I remind myself. But the stakes have never felt so high.

  ‘Hang on, guys. We're coming.’

  I crouch beside Elara, our bodies pressed against the rough bark of an ancient oak. The elf's brow furrows in concentration as she extends her senses, seeking that ethereal thread that binds her to Naomi.

  "Anything?" I whisper, my voice tight with urgency.

  Elara's eyes snap open, a flicker of fear dancing within those emerald depths. "I... I can't feel her, Del. It's like she's been swallowed by the void."

  A leaden weight settles in my gut. Naomi's dream-walking has always been a beacon, a shimmering lifeline connecting her to Elara. For it to be severed so completely...

  "Could she be unconscious? Or—" I choke on the word, unwilling to give voice to the darker possibilities clawing at my mind.

  Elara's hand finds mine, her slender fingers intertwining with my calloused ones. "We mustn't assume the worst. Naomi is strong, and the Goddess watches over her."

  I cling to that hope, to the faith that has carried us through so many trials. Yet the silence that echoes through our bond is a yawning chasm, a void that threatens to swallow me whole.

  A rustle of leaves draws our attention, and Misty materialises from the shadows, her tail flicking angrily side to side.

  ‘The lookout's been dealt with. But move fast. More movement near the farmhouse.’

  I nod, steeling myself against the fear gnawing at my insides. "Let's get a closer look. Stay low and stay sharp."

  We creep forward, the tall grass whispering against our legs as we approach the weathered structure. Even from a distance, the signs of struggle are evident. Shattered windows gape like wounds, jagged shards glinting in the fading light. The once-neat rows of crops lay trampled, the earth churned and stained with a substance I desperately hope isn't blood.

  ‘They put up a fight,’ Misty murmurs, her keen eyes scanning the scene. ‘Barricaded the doors and windows, but it won't hold for much longer.’

  I swallow hard, picturing Joel and his family desperately fending off the attackers. They're farmers, not fighters, and the thought of them facing such violence alone...

  "We'll make them pay," I growl, the rage simmering beneath my skin. "Every last one of them."

  Elara's hand on my arm is a gentle reminder, a tether to the light amidst the gathering darkness. "Justice, Del. Not vengeance. We must be better than those who would prey upon the innocent."

  I exhale slowly, the fury ebbing to a dull throb.

  ‘Stay calm and think, Del. You aren’t helping anyone if you lose control.’

  ‘Fine then,’ I reluctantly agree. ‘But if they’ve hurt any of them, the gloves come off.’

  ‘Seems fair, Del. Seems fair.’

  I turn to the elf.

  "Alright. We need a plan. Elara, we'll circle around the back—"

  But my words are cut short by a sudden scream, high and sharp and filled with terror. It rips through the air like a blade, and I feel it echoed in the depths of my own soul.

  Naomi?

  A plume of smoke rises from the nearby barn, the acrid scent of burning hay and wood assaulting my nostrils. The brigands, it seems, have grown impatient with their waiting game.

  "They're trying to force them out," Elara murmurs, her ire rising. "Raise the stakes to make them abandon their shelter."

  I grit my teeth, the urge to charge in and confront the bastards nearly overwhelming. But I force myself to think, to strategise. Rushing in blindly will only get us all killed.

  "Misty, scout the perimeter," I command, my voice low and urgent. "See if you can spot any tracks leading away from the farm. We need to know their numbers, their positions."

  She nods, a terse dip of her head, and vanishes into the lengthening shadows with a swish of her tail. I turn to Elara, my heart hammering against my ribs.

  "Can you sense her? Naomi? Anything at all?"

  Elara closes her eyes, her brow furrowing in concentration. For a long, agonising moment, there's only silence. Then, a shuddering breath.

  "She's alive," Elara whispers, relief and worry warring in her tone. "But her presence is... muted. As if she's far away, or..."

  She doesn't finish the thought, but I can see the implications in the tightness around her eyes, the quiver of her lip. Naomi is hurt, or worse. And we're running out of time.

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  A soft rustling announces Misty's return, her green eyes glinting in the gathering dusk. ‘Found their camp,’ she reports, with a low growl. ‘About a dozen of them, hidden in the woods near the crossroads. Laughing and counting their spoils like the filthy scavengers they are.’

  Rage flares anew in my chest, white-hot and searing. But I tamp it down, focusing on the task at hand. "Right. Here's what we're going to do..."

  As I lay out the plan, I can't shake the feeling that we're balanced on a knife's edge, the fates of Joel’s family hanging in the balance. Naomi possibly hurt or worse. Whatever awaits us in the fight ahead, we'll handle it. And may the gods have mercy on anyone who stands in our way.

  I crouch low in the underbrush, the rough bark of a tree pressing against my back as I survey the scene before me. The brigand lookout is a scrawny, ill-kempt man, more focused on picking his teeth with a dagger than keeping watch. Beside me, Elara's breathing is slow and steady, her bow held at the ready.

  "On three," I whisper, my hand tightening around the hilt of my sword. "One... two..."

  Before I can finish the count, a twig snaps beneath Elara's foot. The lookout's head jerks up, his eyes widening as they lock onto our position. "Intruders!" he shouts, scrambling for his weapon.

  Cursing under my breath, I surge forward, my blade flashing in the dappled sunlight. The brigand manages to draw his sword just in time to parry my first strike, the clang of metal on metal shattering the forest's stillness.

  We trade blows in a deadly dance, my sword seeking gaps in his defence as he fights with the desperate fury of a cornered animal. I can hear Elara's bowstring thrumming behind me, her arrows whizzing past to keep the brigand off balance.

  "Yield," I grunt, my blade locked against his. "You can't win this."

  The brigand spits in my face, his eyes blazing with hate. "Go to hell," he snarls, shoving me back and lunging forward.

  But his anger makes him reckless. I easily sidestep his charge, my sword darting out to slash across his thigh. He stumbles, crying out in pain, and I press my advantage, slamming the pommel of my sword into his temple.

  The brigand crumples to the ground, his weapon falling from limp fingers.

  Barely even breathing hard, I kick his sword away and kneel to check his pulse. He's alive, but out cold.

  ‘Well, that could have gone smoother,’ I mutter, wiping sweat from my brow.

  ‘Always the damn critic, would it hurt you to approve now and then?’ I ask myself irately.

  ‘Any harder and you would have broken his skull open like an egg, Del,’ I point out. ‘Maybe use a little less power next time.’

  Elara joins me, her face grim as she studies our captive. "We need to wake him up, find out what he knows."

  I nod, my jaw clenching. "Time to get some answers."

  We bind the brigand's hands and feet, and then Elara waves a pungent herb beneath his nose. He comes to with a groan, blinking groggily against the sunlight filtering through the trees.

  "Rise and shine, sweetheart," I drawl, hauling him into a sitting position. "We've got some questions for you."

  The brigand glares at me, his split lip curling into a sneer. "I ain't telling you nothing."

  Elara steps forward, her eyes glinting dangerously. "Oh, I think you will," she says softly, her fingers crackling with arcane energy. "One way or another."

  "How many of you are there?” I demand. “What's your leader planning?"

  The brigand remains stubbornly silent. But as Elara's vines begin to coil around him, his resolve starts to crumble.

  "Look... there's about a dozen of us, alright?" he whimpers. "We were just supposed to raid the farm, grab whatever valuables we could find. But Karth, he's got bigger plans..."

  "What plans?" I demand, my heart hammering against my ribs.

  The brigand licks his lips nervously. "He wants to use the farm as a base, see? Bleed the traffic dry on the crossroads. And that girl..." A shudder runs through him. "He's got 'special' plans for her."

  The bottom drops out of my stomach.

  The thought of her at the mercy of these animals...

  "Where is she?" The words tear from my throat, raw and ragged. "What have you done to her?"

  The brigand cringes away from the fury in my voice. "I don't know, I swear! Karth's got her stashed somewhere, but he didn't tell the rest of us!"

  I snatch a fistful of his shirt, dragging him nose-to-nose with me. "And Joel and Mara? The couple who owns this farm? Their boy?"

  "Barricaded in the farmhouse still, far as I know. Karth wants them alive, in case he needs leverage."

  I shove him away in disgust, my mind racing. We have to get Joel’s family out of this. But a dozen brigands, plus their leader... The odds aren't in their favour.

  I smile malevolently.

  ‘Sounds like it's time to put all these levels to use, Del.’

  I glance at Elara, seeing my own determination reflected in her eyes. But there's worry there too, I can understand. She had seen what Misty can do but so far, around her, I had held back enough so she didn’t really know just how fast and strong I was now.

  ‘Guess you have to see it sometime, lass.’ I acknowledge.

  ‘Menolly, I damn well know you are watching. Once this is over. You and me. We need to talk.’

  "We'll need to be smart about this," she says softly, laying a hand on my shoulder. "Scope out their camp, look for weaknesses. Maybe cause a distraction, divide their forces..."

  I shake my head.

  “No, we split up.” She looks at me puzzled. “You go to the back of the farmhouse. If you can, snipe the few down there.”

  I look at my cat. “Misty, go with her, keep her safe.” Misty mewls a quiet agreement and transforms into her hellcat body.

  ‘No harm will come to her,’ she assures me.

  Elara’s acknowledgement is reluctantly given, but her concern is obvious.

  “Are you sure?” she asks.

  I nod, my face grim. With that, she turns and follows Misty to a good shooting position on the other side of the farm.

  ‘Time to hunt,’ I growl, adopting Misty’s favourite phrase. ‘These fuckers crossed the line.’

  Looking down at the dirty face on the floor below me, I raise my boot and bring it down on his head. Turning my back on the pitiful lifeless form, I let the shadows of the forest swallow me whole; but the fire in my veins burns brighter than ever.

  ‘I’m coming, Naomi. Just hold on...’