The following morning arrived beneath a sky of pale silver.
Greyhaven was already awake.
Smoke drifted lazily from chimneys, merchants prepared their wagons, and farmers led oxen toward the fields. The village looked peaceful, yet beneath the routine lingered an uneasiness that had settled over everyone.
People still smiled.
But they glanced toward the northern hills far too often.
Uriel stood outside the inn, tightening the leather straps around his forearms.
The mask had remained quiet throughout the night.
No whispers.
No dreams.
Just silence.
He wasn't sure whether that comforted him.
Or worried him.
The inn's door creaked open.
Ellis stepped outside carrying half a loaf of bread.
"I've decided I like villages."
"You've been here one night."
"Exactly."
He tore off a piece.
"No monsters."
"No collapsing ruins."
"No cursed vaults."
Before Uriel could answer, Garron walked past and snatched the bread from Ellis's hand.
"You talk too much."
Ellis sighed.
"Everyone steals from me."
"No."
Garron took another bite.
"We're feeding you."
Even Uriel laughed.
Captain Darius emerged moments later.
His expression immediately silenced the group.
"We leave now."
"No unnecessary fighting."
"No heroics."
"We're investigating."
"Not starting a war."
Everyone nodded.
Rowan waited near the village gate with six wardens.
Unlike yesterday, they wore heavier armor beneath their forest cloaks.
Each carried a longbow and a curved hunting blade.
"We'll guide you as far as the old watchtower," Rowan said.
"Beyond that..."
"We don't know what you'll find."
The road north had once been well maintained.
Now it lay abandoned.
Grass pushed through broken stones.
Old wagon ruts had filled with rainwater.
Several wooden signposts leaned at awkward angles, weathered by years of neglect.
No birds sang.
Even the insects seemed strangely absent.
Maera noticed it first.
"Listen."
Everyone stopped.
Nothing.
Not silence born of peace.
Silence born of absence.
Captain Darius frowned.
"I don't like this."
"Neither do I," Rowan admitted.
They continued.
About an hour later, Merek crouched beside the roadside.
"There."
The others gathered around.
Boot prints.
Several.
Fresh.
"Four?" Veyra asked.
Merek nodded.
"The same number we found yesterday."
"They came this way."
"Did they leave?"
Merek searched the ground.
After a long pause, he slowly stood.
"No."
No one spoke.
The tracks simply...
Ended.
Not faded.
Ended.
As though the four travelers had vanished between one step and the next.
Ellis stared at the ground.
"That's impossible."
Nox stirred beneath Uriel's skin.
Nothing is impossible.
Rowan knelt beside the final footprint.
"I've seen this twice before."
"And every time..."
She brushed her fingers across the earth.
"...this is where the trail ends."
"No blood?" Darius asked.
She shook her head.
"No signs of struggle."
"No drag marks."
"No broken weapons."
"Just..."
"...nothing."
Maera carefully studied the surrounding trees.
"If someone wanted to hide evidence..."
"They'd leave something."
"They always do."
Uriel looked ahead.
The road disappeared into a narrow pass between two rocky cliffs.
A cold wind drifted from within.
"We keep moving."
The pass stretched for nearly half a mile.
Ancient stone walls rose on either side, blocking out most of the sunlight.
The air grew colder.
Every footstep echoed.
Ellis looked over his shoulder.
"I feel like someone's following us."
Lyra glanced back.
"So do I."
No one was there.
Halfway through the pass, Merek suddenly raised a fist.
Everyone froze.
He pointed toward the rocks.
A wagon.
Or what remained of one.
Its wheels had splintered apart.
Supplies lay scattered across the ground.
Several crates had been broken open by time and rain.
Captain Darius approached cautiously.
"No bodies."
Garron frowned.
"Again."
Maera knelt beside one of the crates.
"Trade goods."
"Cloth."
"Salt."
"They never reached Greyhaven."
Rowan quietly finished the thought.
"They were one of the missing caravans."
Uriel wandered a few steps farther.
Something caught his eye.
A child's wooden horse.
Half buried beneath the dirt.
He picked it up.
It had been carved by hand.
One wheel was missing.
The paint had long since faded.
Someone had loved this toy.
Someone had carried it onto this road.
Someone who never returned.
His grip tightened.
This wasn't just another mystery anymore.
Families were losing people.
Children were growing up without parents.
The disappearances had faces now.
Angry?
Nox's voice was calm.
"Yes."
Good.
"Why?"
Anger keeps you moving.
"It also blinds people."
The serpent chuckled softly.
You're learning.
A sharp whistle cut through the canyon.
Rowan immediately drew her bow.
"Warden signal."
Another whistle answered.
Then another.
Three short notes.
One long.
Rowan's expression changed.
"Contact."
"Where?"
She pointed toward the cliffs above.
"North ridge."
Without another word, she sprinted toward a narrow trail climbing the rocks.
Captain Darius looked back at his company.
"Move."
The climb was steep.
Loose stones rolled beneath their boots.
By the time they reached the ridge, Rowan's wardens had already formed a defensive line.
One of them pointed silently toward the valley below.
Everyone followed his gaze.
A lone wagon sat abandoned beside the road.
Its horse grazed calmly nearby.
The cargo remained untouched.
Its driver...
Was nowhere to be seen.
Captain Darius narrowed his eyes.
"How long?"
The warden answered without looking away.
"Less than an hour."
Uriel felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
The horse hadn't fled.
The wagon hadn't been looted.
Whoever—or whatever—had taken the driver...
Had done it without disturbing anything else.
Then the horse lifted its head.
It stared into the nearby forest.
Its ears flattened.
And without warning...
It bolted.
Not away from the trees.
Away from something inside them.
The entire forest fell silent once again.
Nox spoke only three words.
We're being watched.