Chapter 44 The Hunt Resumes

Chapter 44 The Hunt Resumes

The road east was a muddy mess.

Kaelen's boots sank into the soft ground with every step, and the wet clay pulled at his feet like it wanted to swallow him. The sky was grey and low, and a cold drizzle fell from the clouds, not quite rain, not quite snow. It soaked through his coat and chilled his bones.

They had been walking since midnight.

Dorn led the way, moving slower than he used to. His bandaged arm hung stiff at his side, and he favored his right leg. The wounds from the Tower had not healed properly. He had been on the road for days before reaching the farm, pushing himself through the cold and the wet and the pain.

"You should have stayed," Kaelen said, walking up beside him. "Rested. Healed."

Dorn did not look at him. "Elara is dead because I wasn't there. I was out scouting, looking for survivors, bringing people to the Tower. And while I was gone, Veyra came." His voice was flat, empty. "I should have been there."

"You would have died with her."

"Maybe. But at least I would have died fighting."

Kaelen had no answer for that. He walked in silence, his eyes on the road ahead.

\-

Sera caught up to them an hour later. Mira walked behind her, her bow strung, her eyes scanning the trees on either side of the road.

"We're being followed," Sera said quietly.

Kaelen stopped. "How many?"

"One. Maybe two. They're keeping their distance. Staying in the trees."

"Since when?"

"Since dawn. Mira saw them first."

Kaelen looked at Mira. She nodded, her face cold.

"Could be travelers," he said. "People heading east, same as us."

"Travelers don't hide in the trees," Sera said. "Travelers don't keep their distance. Travelers don't follow."

Kaelen thought about it. The road was empty ahead and behind. The fields on either side were brown and wet, still waiting for spring. The trees were bare, their branches like bones against the grey sky.

"We keep walking," he said. "We don't let them know we've seen them. If they're still there at nightfall, we deal with them then."

Sera did not look happy, but she nodded. They kept walking.

\-

The drizzle stopped at midday, but the clouds did not break. The light was grey and flat, and the world seemed drained of color. Kaelen's legs ached. His shoulders ached. The warmth in his chest was still there, small and steady, but it did nothing to ease the pain in his body.

They stopped to rest at an old stone bridge. The river below was high and fast, carrying the last of the winter melt toward the sea. Kaelen sat on the bridge wall and pulled out a piece of dried meat from his pack. He chewed it slowly, saving his strength.

Dorn sat a few feet away, his back against the stone, his eyes closed. Sera stood at the edge of the bridge, watching the road behind them. Mira crouched by the river, filling her water skin.

"They're still there," Sera said. "I saw movement in the trees. Just for a second. Then nothing."

Kaelen stood up and walked to the edge of the bridge. He looked at the trees on the far side of the field. They were bare and brown, the undergrowth thick with thorns and dead grass.

"Could be animals," he said.

"Could be." Sera did not sound convinced.

"Then we keep walking. If they wanted to hurt us, they would have done it already. We're tired. We're outnumbered. We're easy prey." He turned back to the road. "Whoever they are, they're waiting for something."

"The question is what."

Kaelen did not have an answer. He started walking.

\-

They reached a village at sunset.

It was small—smaller than Hearthglen, smaller than Broken Cove. A dozen buildings huddled around a crossroads, their windows dark, their doors closed. The sign at the entrance said Grey Mill, but the mill itself was gone, burned to the ground years ago.

"There's no one here," Mira said, her voice low. "It's empty."

Kaelen walked to the nearest building and tried the door. It opened. The room inside was dark and cold, the furniture gone, the hearth cold. Dust covered everything.

"They left a long time ago," he said. "Before the winter, maybe. Before the Cabal fell."

Sera stepped into the room behind him. "We can stay here tonight. Four walls. A roof. Better than the open road."

Kaelen nodded. "We'll take turns keeping watch. Mira, you take first. Wake Dorn at midnight. I'll take the last."

Mira nodded and walked back outside. Kaelen watched her go, then turned to Sera.

"The ones following us. Do you think they'll come tonight?"

Sera was quiet for a moment. "If they wanted to hurt us, they would have done it already. Like you said. So maybe they're not here to hurt us." She paused. "Maybe they're here to watch."

"Watch for what?"

"I don't know. But I don't like it."

Kaelen walked to the window and looked out at the darkening road. The trees were black against the grey sky, and the wind was picking up, rattling the bare branches.

"We'll be ready," he said. "Whatever happens."

\-

The night was quiet.

Too quiet.

Kaelen lay on the floor of the empty building, his coat pulled up to his chin, his knife in his hand. He did not sleep. He listened. The wind died down around midnight, and the silence that followed was heavy, pressing against his ears like water.

Mira woke Dorn at midnight, and Dorn took his post by the window. Kaelen watched him from the corner of his eye, the way he held his sword with his good hand, the way his eyes scanned the darkness, the way his shoulders tensed at every small sound.

Something was out there. Kaelen could feel it. The warmth in his chest flickered, not a warning, but a recognition. Something old. Something hungry.

At the third hour of the night, Dorn tensed.

"Someone's coming," he whispered.

Kaelen was on his feet in an instant. Sera woke beside him, her knife already in her hand. Mira stood by the door, her bow drawn.

They waited.

A figure appeared in the doorway. Small and bent, wrapped in a dark cloak. The hood was pulled up, hiding the face.

"I'm not here to fight," the figure said. The voice was rough, familiar.

The figure pushed back the hood.

It was Halden.

\-

His face was thinner than Kaelen remembered. His hair was grey now, completely grey, and the lines on his face were deeper. But his eyes were the same—pale grey, cold, watching.

"You're supposed to be dead," Sera said. Her knife was pointed at his chest.

"I should be." Halden stepped into the room. He moved slowly, carefully, like a man who was still learning how to walk. "The wounds the Cabal gave me, they should have killed me. But I had help."

"From who?"

"From the people your friend Dorn brought to the Tower. The survivors. The ones who still believed that the world could be saved." He looked at Kaelen. "They saved my life. I don't know why. They should have let me die."

Kaelen lowered his knife. "Why are you here, Halden?"

"Because Veyra has the book. Because she's going to open the door. Because I'm the only one who knows where she's going."

Sera stepped forward. "And we're supposed to trust you? You, who hunted us across half of Telamon? You, who brought the things that used to be men to tear us apart?"

Halden looked at her. His eyes were tired.

"No," he said. "You're not supposed to trust me. You're supposed to use me. I know Veyra. I know how she thinks. I know where she's going to strike next. I can help you stop her."

"And what do you want in return?"

Halden was quiet for a moment. "A chance. The same chance you gave Veyra. A chance to be something other than what I was."

Kaelen looked at him. The warmth in his chest was still, waiting.

"Where is she going?" he asked.

"To the barrow. The one where you met the First. She thinks the First can help her open the door. She thinks they can give her the power she needs."

Kaelen felt the warmth flicker. The barrow. The place where the dead had sat up in their niches. The thing on the table with the bronze mask.

"She's wrong," Kaelen said. "The First won't help her. They'll use her. The same way they tried to use me."

"Maybe. But she doesn't know that. And by the time she finds out, it will be too late."

Kaelen turned to the others. Sera's face was hard, unreadable. Mira stood by the door, her bow still drawn. Dorn leaned against the wall, his eyes on Halden.

"We go to the barrow," Kaelen said. "We stop her. We get the book back."

Sera nodded slowly. Mira lowered her bow.

Dorn pushed off from the wall. "And him?" He nodded toward Halden.

Kaelen looked at the old hunter. His grey eyes were steady, waiting.

"He comes with us. He walks in front, where we can see him. And if he tries anything—"

"I won't," Halden said. "I've done enough running. It's time to stop."

Kaelen walked to the door and looked out at the dark road. The wind had picked up again, and the trees were swaying, their bare branches creaking.

"Then let's move. We have a long way to go."

They walked out into the night.

Behind them, the empty village sat dark and silent.

Ahead of them, the barrow waited.

And somewhere in the dark, Veyra was getting closer to the First.