Disoriented, Lilia sat up, jolted out of a heavy, exhausted sleep.
Torn awake two nights in a row. Her heart would give out if she continued to be woken like this.
However, the sight of Saul and Ryana’s faces made any other thought flee her startled mind. Their expressions were taut, their eyes huge.
“They’ve broken through the perimeter,” Ryana hissed, reaching for her staff with one hand, while she lit a branch from the fire with the other. “Grab what you can—we’re going to have to run.”
Lilia did as she was told, shucking on her cloak and shouldering her pack.
The horses squealed once more—the fear in that sound causing Lilia’s blood to chill. Grunts followed the screaming, then the thunder of hoof-beats.
The intruders were coming for them.
“We’re trapped in here,” Saul growled, drawing two knives in one smooth movement. “It’ll be too easy for them.”
“Only if we let it.” Dain crouched next to Lilia, cloak and pack on, axe at the ready.
Saul’s gaze gleamed and he nodded.
Dain glanced at Lilia. “Draw your knife—and remember what I said, hold it low and only strike when your attacker is close.
Clumsily, Lilia obeyed. She remembered his instructions, and was grateful for them. However, she was shaking so much right now she doubted she’d be able to use the knife.
A heartbeat later, she spied dark shapes looming beyond the walls of the tent.
Terror caused her breathing to choke.
The obscene sound of ripping hide cut through the night.
Saul had sliced open the side of their shelter. The hole gaped wide. Damp, cold air rushed in, causing the fire behind them to gutter.
Ryana thrust her flaming torch forward and leaped out into the darkness. Saul followed at her heels. Lilia felt Dain’s hand fasten around hers before he towed her out after him.
They had barely taken a step outside when Lilia saw what hunted them.
Thick woodland pressed in; the trees dark shapes against the deeper black of night. The horses were gone, and the flaming torches had been knocked to the ground.
Three slender figures clad in mist crept toward the ruined tent.
The Hiriel—for Lilia had heard enough folktales about them to know who they were—glowed like starlight in the darkness.
Lilia stared, momentarily stunned.
The Hiriel were otherworldly. Willowy with elongated hands and feet, they moved with lithe grace. Although bipedal, the sprites crept forward using their hands to guide them. Their forms appeared to be made of milk, bleeding into the air around them as if it was water, curling and drifting behind them like ghostly veils. Atop their heads, each Hiriel bore a pair of slender antlers. Their eyes were twin pinpricks of white light on blank, featureless faces.
Lilia’s limbs trembled, and she cowered against Dain.
Saul and Ryana stepped up, providing a barrier between the Hiriel and Lilia. With a start, she realized they were protecting her, as they’d promised.
“Stay back!” Ryana’s voice cut through the night. She thrust out her guttering torch toward them.
The Hiriel ignored her command, silently stealing closer. All the while the milky substance that bled from their bodies snapped and billowed around them.
The odor of hot iron—unnatural in the midst of woodland—wafted toward Lilia.
Hissing a curse, Ryana threw aside the flaming torch. Lilia caught a flash of pale flesh as the enchanter swept her hand wide about her, gathering the Dark.
The Hiriel saw her action and drew themselves up tall. Then they charged toward her—their long arms stretched out and elongated fingers curved in claws.
A tide of writhing blackness—Ryana’s allies—collided with the Hiriel.
Chilling wails, the rage of beings not used to being challenged, rent the misty air.
“Run!” Ryana ordered. “Up the hill—now!”
Dain hesitated. “What about you?”
“I’ll be right behind you—run!”
All three of them obeyed her.
They turned and sprinted across the clearing, diving through the outer perimeter of torches and into the cloak of darkness beyond. Lilia clung to Dain’s hand; he was her lifeline, her only hope of survival.
Her breath rasped in her throat, her heart pounded in her ears, and fear gave her feet wings. Likewise, Dain ran as if The Shadow King himself pursued them, just two paces behind Saul who led them up the thickly wooded hillside.
Lilia heard cracking branches and the sound of running feet behind her. True to her word, Ryana was following.
Branches snagged at them, raking against their exposed faces and clawing at their cloaks and packs, intent on slowing their pace up the hill. The way grew stepper, studded with rocks that jutted out of the damp soil and slammed into their toes and shins.
Fear made Lilia oblivious to the pain. The darkness pressed close; the low cloud blocking out the moon and the stars. They fled, blind in the dark, working their way by feel up the steepening slope.
They reached the top of the hill, and the trees drew back. A dank breeze feathered their faces as they stumbled around. The dark shapes of boulders, deeper black than the surrounding night, loomed through the murk.
“There’s space under this one,” Saul panted. “Quick—inside.”
Lilia and Dain followed him under the lip of a great boulder at the crest of the hill. Moments later, Ryana dove under it, squeezing in tight next to them.
“They’ll find us here,” Lilia gasped. “There’s no way to block the entrance.”
“There is,” Ryana grunted. Her back was pressed against Lilia as she turned to face the darkness, her right hand sweeping before her. Guttural words echoed through the night.
Peering over Ryana’s shoulder, Lilia’s bowels cramped at the sight of three shadowy forms flitting toward them, their misty cloaks billowing around them like tattered lace. Their pale gazes speared her and Lilia knew a moment of absolute terror.
It’s me they want.
The sound of stone grating against stone drew her gaze from the approaching Hiriel. The shadow creatures were just a few yards away when another boulder—much smaller than the one they were hiding under—rolled in front of the entrance to their hiding place.
The boulder came to rest, a wall of impenetrable black, with a dull thud, sealing them inside.
Time passed.
Their hiding place was dark and airless. After a while, Lilia started to feel as if the surrounding rock was closing in on her. Squeezed in between Dain and Ryana, there was no room to move, or to stretch out her limbs. She was also acutely aware of the feel of Dain’s body against her back, as they were spooned together in the cramped space.
Beyond their prison of stone, there was silence; no sign the Hiriel were lurking outside, or had gathered more of their number. She strained her ears, listening for them, but could hear nothing but the rasping of her own and her companions’ breathing, and the steady thump of her own heart.
“The air in here,” Saul finally broke the smothering silence. “It grows thin … I can’t breathe.”
He was right, each breath was becoming an effort. If they remained trapped in here much longer they would suffocate.
With a grunt, Ryana muttered a few words in the enchanter’s tongue, shifting against Lilia as she moved her hands. Heavy scraping sounded and the rock door shifted slightly, letting in a draft of damp, cold air.
Lilia inhaled deeply, gasping great breaths of it. Now that there was a tiny gap above them, sounds of the night beyond intruded. Howls, cackles and far off screams echoed through the darkness.
Lilia shuddered. As confining as their hiding place was, she had no wish to leave it until daylight bathed the world once more.
Stiff, bleary-eyed and chilled, the four figures crawled out from under the boulder shortly after dawn.
Lilia straightened up, her gaze taking in the top of the hill she had clambered up in the dark. A maze of boulders of varying sizes studded the top and behind them rose the ruins of an ancient stone watch tower. Mossy and made of crumbling damp stone, it resembled a giant crown. In the dark, none of them had even realized it was there.
A few yards down the hill, the trees began—a dense thicket of conifers that covered the ground in a thick, bristling mattress. The scent of pine resin filled the wet dawn air, and a thin mist snaked through the trees.
Lilia ran a hand over her face and blinked her stinging eyes. She was starting to feel seriously sleep-deprived and wondered how she’d manage the day’s journey. Not that any of the others looked fresh either. In the light of the grey dawn, their faces were all haggard and drawn.
Wordlessly, for none of them were in the mood to converse, they made their way down the hill to last night’s campsite.
Devastation greeted them.
The horses were gone, no doubt after breaking free of their tethers they’d bolted in terror. With a sinking heart, Lilia realized that they’d be completing the rest of the journey on foot.
The hide tent—their only means of portable shelter—had been ripped to shreds. It looked like the Hiriel, furious that their quarry had escaped them, had returned here and vented their rage.
Standing in the midst of it all, Lilia looked around her. “So we know now that fire won’t stop them.”
“Evidently,” Ryana replied, her voice raspy from fatigue. “I suggest we avoid lighting a fire tonight.”
“It just drew them to us,” Dain confirmed with a pained look. He unstoppered a bladder of water and drank deeply. “Better we blend in at night from now on.”
“Which means we’re going to have to stop well before dark and look for a suitable hiding place,” Saul said, kicking at the smoking embers of last night’s fire. He glanced over at Ryana. “Can you estimate how long will it take us to reach the Royal City on foot?”
“I’d say it’s still another four days, possibly five,” she said with a heavy sigh. “We’re going to have to travel off the road. That’ll slow us down.”
This news made Lilia’s already low mood darken.
At least four more nights out here in the wilderness, running from the shadows.
We’ll never make it.
To distract herself from her gloomy thoughts, she dug into her pack for a piece of bread. Washing it down with a gulp of water, she met Dain’s eye.
“Don’t worry, Lily.” He gave her a tired smile. “We’ll look out for you.”
She attempted to return the smile but failed. “I know you will,” she murmured. “Only there’s little three of you can do if we’re cornered by Hiriel again with nowhere to hide.”
His expression tightened. “Then we’ll have to make sure it never comes to that.”
Behind him, Saul snorted. “Careful not to make promises you can’t keep, Dain.”
Dain glanced over his shoulder, his gaze narrowing as it settled upon Saul.
“Come on,” Ryana interrupted, shattering the tension between the two men. “We need to move.”