Without Yshnim and Trystan their patrols had been reduced. Igbol set up a shift were two of them would patrol alone for an hour, then one would rest while Igbol took their post, and like this they shifted through every night, walking the same quiet streets.

  By the third day the ck of proper rest left Aien exhausted, his body waiting for a sleep that never came. He had been the first one to finish his shifts that night, yet he felt as if he had only blinked and morning came, sunlight shining through the inn’s windows and voices reaching up to his room.

  He crawled out of bed, seeing that Igbol was still sleeping, his back to the wall. Igbol had taken Trystan’s bed while he was away, leaving his own bed empty in the middle. Aien watched the Second Bde for a moment. An Acolyte of High God Mountain, but whatever magic the god had granted him, the acolyte kept mostly to himself.

  The subject had come in conversations, but it was always brief. Apparently, the only magic he could wield was to feel things and people through the ground, the more rock the better, but Aien didn’t believe that. Aside from those chosen by Irina, Acolytes were few and far between, there was no way that was all he could do. Igbol seemed like any other man.

  Aien squinted, still staring at Igbol. The man’s breathing as he slept was calm like a child’s. He seemed to be in good rest.

  Irritated, Aien put on his boots, picked up his sword and left for the backyard. No matter how tired he was, he wouldn’t skip on practicing.

  Ren was already there, legs wrapped around a tree branch and dangling down. She stared at Aien as he approached, but didn’t move.

  “I’m thinking for myself,” she said before Aien could ask anything.

  This feels less like what I expected with each day.

  He’d take it seriously. Do what he was supposed to do. It had to pay off eventually. Unsheathing his sword, Aien started on his usual routine.

  Every time he felt the sword’s hilt in his hand, Aien remembered Yshnim’s words. He managed to make some sense of her warning about the sparring matches, but still thought he didn’t deserve the punishment. As for the grinning, that he simply didn’t believe.

  “Aien.”

  He was almost done with his practice when Ren called for him.

  Aien turned and looked up to see Ren sitting in the same branch she had been dangling from earlier. She searched around with her eyes, looking at the windows and the inn’s backdoor before jumping down.

  “It’s fast, but we need to talk.”

  “Li?” he asked as he approached, “what happened?”

  “Li and Urno, but nothing happened…” in Ren’s brief pause as she gnced around, Aien had enough time to wonder who Urno was before remembering the name.

  It struck him that he might be losing it. Doubly so that three days without proper rest were enough for his mind to feel it. He’d gone through worse in Sarak.

  Aien spoke before Ren could, “You don’t have to tell me. I understand it.”

  “I know you did; I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. If something happens, we take it to Igbol or Yshnim, but if nothing does then we keep quiet about it. No reason to put each other in trouble. And I don’t mean only about this, but for other things that might happen in the future.”

  There was a flutter to Ren’s eyes that Aien had never seen. You’ve been thinking about this nonstop, haven’t you?

  “We’re on the same page,” Aien said, nodding.

  She stared into his eyes for a moment longer, almost as if expecting something more. Reassurance? Aien wasn’t the right person for that. He could rarely push himself to offer it.

  Ren left with a curt nod of her own, making for the inn.

  Turning, Aien resumed his practice.

  Pleasantly tired, Aien sheathed his sword and walked back into the inn. A couple of other residents were having breakfast and he asked for the same, then sat alone in a corner to eat his meal of bck bread, white cheese and dried sausage.

  He ate alone trying not to think about all the times he hadn’t. Several of them hadn’t been pleasant meals. Chewy meats and fvorless soups showed up sometimes on the road. There was only so much that hunters could provide.

  Aien gnced up at noticing a figure appearing on the front door. The guard, Sniffer, searched around the inn with his eyes until they found Aien.

  With a nod and a raised hand of greetings to the innkeeper, Sniffer approached his table.

  “Sorry to interrupt your meal. Are the others out?”

  Something happened with Yshnim and Trystan, was the first thing that came up in Aien’s mind.

  “They’re upstairs. Is this urgent?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Not Yshnim and Trystan, then. Having a moment to think about it, Aien realized it was unlikely in the first pce. There had not been enough time for them to reach the keep, so if anything had happened it would have been on the road. If the tax collectors had tried something, news of it would only reach Shallow Pit if they failed, and Yshnim would not bother with telling the mayor before coming for them.

  Behind Sniffer, the innkeeper and three others were pretending not to be listening in.

  Unless you don’t want to say anything about that while others are listening.

  Not exactly urgent.

  Aien stood up, gesturing for the backdoor. As Sniffer nodded and made for the backyard, Aien went up the stairs to call for Ren and Igbol.

  The three of them met Sniffer by the wall that separated the inn from another building.

  Without preamble, the guard started, “A man came into town by foot earlier today and called for the guards. Not a dangerous man, we don’t think. Just a traveler. He told us that two days ago while looking for shelter in one of the trails down south he found a dead body by the roadside. Said he got scared and didn’t look closer.”

  “How does he know they were dead then?” Ren asked.

  “Because of the smell. He also called for them. He said he didn’t get close enough to see if it was a man or a woman, but thought it was a man.”

  “Which direction was he coming from?” Igbol asked.

  “From here. After seeing the body, he turned back up the road.”

  “I heard there are some vilges not far south,” Aien said.

  “There are,” said Sniffer. “Could be someone from there, or someone coming from there. Those really are just vilges. They don’t have a town guard like us. The thing is, if something happened, then it was recent enough that we haven’t heard of it. It’s not just that either. We get some travelers by this time every year. A couple traders. A couple bards.”

  “And they’re te,” Igbol said.

  Sniffer nodded.

  “I’m not saying something has happened, but it might have. I hope not. This couldn’t have been any of the caravans, not if there was only one person, but if something happened farther down the road then they might not be able to come.”

  “You think the Viscounts are up to something?” Ren asked, her voice low.

  Sniffer raised his hands in a shrug. “They are always up to something, but on this. Wrong direction. The mayor would like to ask if you could help us with this. We will tell everyone before rumors start going around, but it would be helpful if we could also them that we have Armsmasters looking into it.”

  Igbol shot a quick gnce towards Ren and Aien.

  “We’re not separating,” Ren said curtly.

  “I understand if you want to wait for the other two to come back, but—” Sniffer cut himself short at a raised hand from Igbol.

  “Come here, you two,” Igbol said.

  One hand on Aien’s shoulder and the other on Ren’s, Igbol gently pulled them aside.

  “We’re not separating,” Ren repeated, her voice lower.

  “Let’s discuss this, Ren. Yshnim put me in charge of you two.”

  “She did and she said you should take us to safety if something happened.”

  “And what if I think it’s safer leaving you two in Shallow Pit?” Igbol asked.

  “Yshnim keeps telling me to think for myself, doesn’t she? I’m thinking for myself, and I think you’re wrong.”

  “You know that’s not what she means by that.”

  Ren shook her head in frustration. “We don’t even know what happened. If something happened.”

  “Still, we know more about what is happening in Shallow Pit than whatever happened on that trail. It could be nothing, I understand that, but did you hear what he said? Two days south and he came into town by foot. With a horse I can get there in a day and you know that nothing is surprising me on the road.”

  “You being an Acolyte doesn’t solve everything, Igbol.”

  There was a pause before Igbol answered, “It solves enough.”

  Ren gasped, turning her gaze at Aien, a question in her eyes. Aren’t you going to say anything? She almost looked accusatory.

  “I don’t think we should separate,” Aien said, “but should we even go? Without Yshnim and Trystan?”

  Igbol answered, “I’m going no matter what. That is what Yshnim would have done. The question is if I go alone or if we go together.”

  “Then there isn’t a question. If we’re together it’s safer for all of us, even if there is danger there,” Ren said, gncing at Aien a second time.

  “I’m with Ren.”

  Igbol’s eyes went from Aien to Ren twice before he nodded.

  “We’re going,” Igbol spoke, louder so that Sniffer could hear.

  They rode hard for a while after leaving Shallow Pit, but Igbol soon reminded them to pull the horses into a pace. If there was any danger to be found, doing so on top of tired mounts would only increase their chances of dying.

  The guards had lent them a crude map that showed the trails and roads south and west before expining everything they managed to get out of the traveler. Aien had been watching and he noticed how uneasy the guards were. Igbol reassured them that they were only going to see what they could find and would warn the town if there was any eminent danger. Though they barely knew each other, the authority of the white cloak and the iron insignia seemed to ease their worries, if only a little.

  “I think we’re getting close,” Igbol said after hours of riding. It was the te afternoon and they had not seen anyone on the trail.

  Igbol unmounted. Aien and Ren did the same. Without a word, the Second Bde guided them straight into a clearing where they tied the horses to trees. Almost as if he knew what that the clearing would be there before looking. His god’s magic at work, then. That’s why you’ve been so quiet.

  Spear in hand, he left for the road again.

  The woods around them were sparser than Aien had expected. In any spot they could see well outside the trail, even where it wound around mounts. The treetops weren’t stacked enough to provide shelter from the rain. Even without an Acolyte that could feel things before he saw them, nothing would creep up on them there.

  They walked for the best part of an hour before Igbol stopped again, pulled out the map and checked something. He turned and stretched the map in Aien’s direction.

  Unsure, Aien reached for it.

  “You should keep this, just in case we get separated,” Igbol said.

  Folding the parchment Aien stored it into a pocket.

  “Something ahead? What are you feeling?” Ren asked, her voice almost squeaky.

  “No, nothing.”

  Igbol resumed walking, this time much slower. Ren shot Aien a gnce. He shrugged and the both of them started following.

  Not long after, as they traversed a rockier stretch of the path, Igbol guided them to the left of the trail. Spread out, the three of them searched. From what the traveler had said, it shouldn’t be far.

  It wasn’t, and Aien was the first to spot it. At first it seemed like a dark bundle that could be anything farther down and ahead, but there was the suggestion of a shape beneath the cloak, arms and legs.

  “Igbol. Ren. Found it!” Aien shouted.

  Igbol reached him first and made his way down. Aien stayed there to wait for Ren, then descended the incline.

  Aien had smelled dead bodies before, and though he didn’t flinch at the rotten stench and the buzzing flies, there was no getting used to it, not fully.

  With the butt of his spear, Igbol pushed the cloak around to reveal the corpse. Lying on its side with skin white and drying up was a woman, clutching her belly. Her face was pressed against the ground nose-first.

  “This doesn’t look like a fight,” Aien said.

  “No,” Igbol said before approaching to start moving the corpse.

  The woman’s hands were hiding a terrible wound, something that looked like both a gash and a bruise, one on top of the other. Several, to leave a mark of that size, but with the swelling then drying up of her skin, it was hard to tell. Aien wasn’t a doctor to know more.

  Igbol turned from the corpse to the left. Aien followed his eyes, but there was nothing there.

  “I think she bled to death,” Igbol said.

  “Looks like it,” Ren agreed. “You should check her pockets.”

  After Ren’s words, Igbol continued staring at the woods for a few moments. Aien was about to ask if he was listening when Igbol turned to the corpse once again.

  The woman had nothing on her.

  Before standing up, Igbol pulled the cloak to hide her face once again.

  “We continue until it darkens. Stay close to me.”

  As they resumed their walk, Aien whispered to Ren.

  “Have you ever seen him like this?”

  “Not quite. It’s not good to distract him when he’s searching ahead, but he’s worried. Knowing Igbol, he’s keeping quiet to not worry us.”

  Doesn’t seem like it’s working for you.

  Igbol continued guiding them as if he knew the y of the nd, farther and farther off the trail, seeing through whatever it was that his god had power enough. Rocks, Aien supposed, but mountains also had soil and trees and bush, and he knew that Igbol could also feel people in some way.

  “He would tell us if he felt anything, wouldn’t he?”

  “Of course he would,” Ren answered.

  Nothing. That was what Igbol had said earlier, and only then did Aien wonder about it.

  The ground was sloping upwards from some formation they were on the wrong side to see. Igbol climbed it without breaking a beat; Aien and Ren following some fifteen paces behind.

  When they reached the top, the sky was purple from the setting sun. Igbol was hunched down, a hand on the ground, looking at a valley thick in trees below them.

  Acolyte or not, they only had a little sunlight left before they had to turn back. Aien searched the ndscape with his eyes.

  He thought he saw something to the right — west —, far in the distance, but the trees were too thick there to be sure. Aien continued looking, then had the same feeling once again.

  Squinting, he focused his vision in that direction, trying to get used to the view, telling his mind to not py tricks with him.

  Movement. The trees itself were moving. Only a little, only the tops, but they were, couldn’t be wind, not when it only seemed to sway the trees in that one spot he was staring at.

  The thing left the trees, showing itself for mere moments as it walked through a hill on the other side. A writhing mass of flesh that dragged its own body.

  Too far away to see, but close in his memories.

  Something pulled hard on his arm and Aien turned with a grunt, his instincts suddenly kicking in and telling him to reach for his sword. His body didn’t respond well and he fell forward, tumbling.

  Igbol caught him. Igbol.

  Yes, Igbol. Igbol and Ren, and, and…

  “What the fuck was that?” Ren spat the words, shoving Aien towards a tree.

  He was momentarily confused, shocked between answering her question and lost in the mangled corpse of his parents.

  “I called for you four fucking times Aien. Are you even listening?”

  “Now is not the time,” Igbol said, his voice hard and commanding. “It’s too far to sense me but now is not the time. Walk and don’t talk.”

  With a hand he pulled Ren away from Aien, then nudged both of them forward. Momentum kept Aien walking.

  He had frozen just like that back then. Years of thinking he had gotten over it, of wanting to have the power to prevent it from happening ever again. He wasn’t stupid. There was no such thing as taking revenge on an Abyssal. He’d seen what they could do up close but it was impossible to not imagine himself facing one. He thought he could handle it.

  He should have been able to handle it. It was only a glimpse of the thing’s back, but it was so much more. He hadn’t even heard Ren calling him. The two must have hidden and he just stood up there, watching like a fool.

  Had it turned back, he would have been seen.

  Disgusted with himself, Aien shook his head in an attempt to shove those thoughts away. Focused on walking.

  It didn’t work, his legs were shaky and his upper body stiff, leaving him to drag his weight.

  Boy.