Adom was fighting to keep a straight face as a butterfly drifted past them, its wings catching the sunlight.
"You know," Artun said, rubbing his nose, "I don't normally sneeze much either, unless I'm around certain types of pollen. Redleaf flowers especially make me—"
"ACHOO!"
"By the beard of—"
"Stop," Bob hissed. "You better not, dwarf."
Thorgen scoffed as the butterfly landed lightly on his forearm. The dwarf barely glanced at it, continuing the conversation with Artun.
"Aye, some folk are sensitive that way. My cousin Bormin can't go near mushroomcaps without his skin becoming red."
"Could be that," Artun said, gesturing at the butterfly while wiping his nose. "Might be transporting pollen that I'm allergic to—"
The dwarf looked down at it with grudging appreciation.
"Oooh. Pretty enough," he admitted. "Though I prefer creatures with more substance to 'em."
Adom was studying the butterfly more carefully now. Something about its wings... the patterns... they weren't runes at all, but—
His breath caught.
They were teeth. Hundreds of microscopic teeth arranged in a pattern that only appeared decorative from a distance.
"Thorgen, DON'T—"
Too late.
The butterfly's wings suddenly flattened against the dwarf's arm. The tiny teeth bit down simultaneously, piercing the skin.
Time seemed to slow.
Adom watched in horror as a dark discoloration spread from the point of contact. Not blood—something worse. The skin around the butterfly blackened instantly, veins turning purple then black as the corruption raced up Thorgen's arm.
No one else had even processed what was happening yet. Zara's mouth was opening to ask a question. Bob was half-turned, sensing Adom's alarm. Artun was mid-sneeze.
But Thorgen knew.
Without hesitation, without even a grunt of warning, the dwarf drew his axe with his free hand. In one fluid motion—terrifying in its precision—he brought the blade down on his own arm just below the elbow.
The axe severed flesh and bone.
Blood sprayed across the golden grass. The corrupted forearm, butterfly still attached, dropped to the ground. The infection had reached just inches from the point of amputation.
Thorgen staggered but didn't fall. His face went white, but he didn't scream. He simply stared at the stump of his arm as if surprised to find it missing.
"That," he said with unnerving calm, "was unpleasant."
Then his knees buckled.
Zara moved first, catching him before he hit the ground. Adom was already weaving a fire spell, the white energy flowing from his hands to the wound, cauterizing blood vessels and numbing pain receptors.
"What the fuck?" Artun breathed, staring at the severed arm on the ground. The corruption continued to spread through the detached limb, the flesh turning black and then crumbling into dust. The butterfly remained, feeding.
"Like I was saying," Bob said grimly, drawing a dagger and impaling the butterfly through its center, "the witch's most dangerous creations often have the fairest appearances."
The butterfly made no sound as it died, but its wings fluttered once more, releasing a small puff of glittering dust that Bob was careful to avoid.
"Is he...?" Zuni asked, his tiny voice trembling slightly.
"He'll live," Adom said, maintaining the spell. "He reacted fast enough."
"Dwarven reflexes," Thorgen muttered through gritted teeth. "And experience."
They sat in silence, listening to the butterflies outside. Occasionally one would find the entrance to their shelter, only to be quickly dispatched by Bob's dagger.
After what felt like an hour but might have been minutes, Adom stood. "I think I can get us out of here. The whispers say we need to head northwest."
"How do we do that without being swarmed again?" Zara asked.
Adom considered. "I can create a sustained shield this time. Something that moves with us. It won't last forever, but it should get us to the edge of their territory."
Bob nodded. "Worth a try. It's not like we have better options."
They prepared to move, Bob fashioning a crude stretcher for Thorgen from their cloaks and two straight branches he found in the cave. The dwarf stirred but didn't wake.
"Ready?" Adom asked, gathering the white energy around him.
Zara nodded, looking grim. "Let's go."
Adom focused his will, creating a dome around them. It shimmered like a soap bubble, translucent but solid.
"Stay close to me," he said. "The shield will only extend about five feet in any direction."
They emerged from the cave into chaos. The butterflies immediately swarmed the shield, thousands of tiny teeth trying to penetrate the barrier. From inside, it looked like a storm of colorful confetti battering against glass.
"This way," Adom said, starting northwest. The shield moved with him, forcing the others to stay close.
They made slow progress. Bob and Zara struggled with Thorgen's makeshift stretcher, and Adom had to moderate his pace to keep the shield encompassing them all. Outside their bubble, the meadow had transformed into a nightmare landscape. Every flower seemed to be releasing more butterflies, the air so thick with them that the sun was partially blocked.
"How much farther?" Zara asked, her voice strained.
"I'm not sure," Adom admitted. "The whispers just say to keep going this way."
They pushed forward, step by labored step.
After twenty minutes of walking, the shield began to flicker.
"We need to hurry," Adom said, his voice tight with effort. "I can't hold this much longer."
They increased their pace, practically jogging now despite Thorgen's weight. The butterflies seemed to sense the shield's weakening, their attacks growing more frenzied.
"There!" Bob suddenly called. "I see trees ahead!"
Sure enough, the edge of another forest loomed about a hundred yards away. The butterflies seemed less dense there, perhaps unable to survive in the shade.
"Almost there," Adom encouraged, though his vision was starting to blur from the sustained effort.
Fifty yards.
Thirty.
Ten.
They reached the first trees just as Adom's shield collapsed completely. The butterflies surged forward, but something strange happened. As they hit the shadow line beneath the forest canopy, they veered away, unwilling or unable to follow.
"They can't enter the forest," Bob said, amazed. "We made it."
They stumbled deeper into the woods, putting distance between themselves and the meadow until the sound of wings faded entirely. Finally, in a small clearing, they set Thorgen down and collapsed beside him.
"We need to check his wound," Zara said, already unwrapping the makeshift bandages.
The stump looked bad—angry red streaks extended up from the cauterized end, suggesting infection—but there was no sign of the black corruption from the butterfly's bite.
"I can help," Adom said, summoning his strength to weave a more thorough healing spell.
As he worked, he noticed the white energy had dimmed considerably. Using it for so long, especially for the shield, had drained him more than he'd realized.
Once Thorgen was stabilized, Adom stood. "We should keep moving. These woods seem safer than the meadow, but we're still in her territory."
He started forward, following the increasingly urgent whispers.
Together they lifted the dwarf and continued through the forest. The trees here were different from the twisted monstrosities they'd encountered earlier—straighter, healthier, with normal-looking leaves. It was almost peaceful.
Too peaceful, Adom realized suddenly. Where were the sounds of birds or insects? Why wasn't Zara saying anything? And wasn't Bob just behind them?
He turned to check on the others and froze.
No one was there.
"Zara?" he called. "Bob?"
No answer.
"I was just speaking to them," he muttered. "They were right here."
Fear crept up his spine. Had something taken them silently? Had he somehow gotten separated in the woods?
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
"Law," Zuni's voice came from his shoulder, breaking through his confusion. "Law, stop."
Adom halted, suddenly uncertain. "Z-" he corrected himself. "Librarian? Where are the others?"
"I say, Law, you're not quite in a normal state at present," Zuni said. "I believe you've fallen victim to some manner of illusion."
"Illusion?" Adom looked around at the forest, then back at his companion. "What do you mean?"
"Chirp—pardon me," Zuni composed himself. "I believe it began shortly after our encounter with that first butterfly. Whatever made Artun sneeze—likely some form of spore or pollen—has affected your perception."
"But the others..." Adom gestured to where he could clearly see Zara helping Thorgen, Artun clutching his blackened arm, Bob scanning the trees.
Wait... that wasn't right...
"That's just it," Zuni said. "They aren't actually there. We became separated during the commotion with the butterflies. Everyone scattered in different directions, and you ran straight ahead. I've been attempting to inform you of this fact for some time now."
"This is an illusion spell," Adom muttered. "A complex one."
"Quite so," Zuni agreed. "And what's more, we're not even in a forest. I've been trying to guide you out of whatever fantasy your mind has constructed, but you've been rather stubbornly committed to it."
"If we're not in a forest, where are we?"
"Somewhere significantly less pleasant, I'm afraid," Zuni said. "I can see the actual surroundings, and they're decidedly swamp-like in nature."
Adom felt sick. "So the whispers..."
"I suspect they've been manipulated as well."
Adom frowned, focusing his mind on the problem. "Illusion spells work best when the target is agitated or distracted. The more emotional the state, the stronger the hold."
"A sound assessment," Zuni nodded.
"I need to calm myself," Adom decided, closing his eyes. "Break the spell's grip on my perception."
He took a deep breath, then another.
"That's it," Zuni encouraged.
Adom continued his measured breathing, focusing inward.
As his mind cleared, his other senses began reporting discrepancies. The ground beneath his feet wasn't forest loam but something softer, wetter. The air wasn't fresh and cool but heavy, humid, carrying the smell of rot and stagnant water.
"I can feel water," he said, eyes still closed. "Around my ankles."
"Yes, precisely," Zuni confirmed. "Rather murky stuff."
Adom focused harder. Illusion spells were powerful but ultimately superficial—they could only overlay reality, not replace it entirely. With enough concentration, he could push through the deception.
[Indomitable Will]
The message flashed across his vision. The forest around him flickered, like reality itself was stuttering. For a moment, he saw both—the pleasant woodland and, beneath it, glimpses of a dismal swamp with twisted black trees rising from dark water.
"It's working," he said, opening his eyes. "I can see through it now."
The illusion was disintegrating in patches. Where once he saw Zara helping Thorgen, now there was only a gnarled stump rising from murky water. Artun's form melted away to reveal a cluster of sickly, phosphorescent fungi. Bob's vigilant figure became nothing more than a twisted tree with hanging moss.
The last vestiges of the false forest fell away completely.
Adom now stood ankle-deep in dark, viscous swamp water. All around them stretched a nightmarish landscape—blackened, twisted trees rising from the murk, their branches draped with pale, moving tendrils that might have been moss or something worse. The sky overhead wasn't blue but a sickly yellowish-green.
"The witch?" Adom said, turning slowly to take in their surroundings.
"Quite possible," Zuni agreed.
In the distance, something large moved beneath the water's surface, creating ripples that spread outward. Somewhere beyond that, a sound like a muffled scream echoed across the swamp.
"We need to find the others," Adom said, gathering his wits. "They could be trapped in similar illusions, or worse."
"A sound plan," Zuni said. "Though I suggest we find some drier ground first. This water makes me exceedingly nervous—chirp!"
The quillick's sudden alarm made Adom look down. Just beneath the surface, something pale and hand-like had brushed against his boot before darting away.
"Agreed," Adom said, spotting a raised area about fifty yards away. "That way. And Zuni... thank you for helping me see through the deception."
"Think nothing of it," the quillick replied. "Though I must say, you did most of the work yourself. I merely pointed out the rather obvious fact that you were talking to thin air."
WAM!
The gauntlet connected with the thing's face, stunning it. Adom followed with a [Pressure Spike] directly to its head, causing it to rupture.
Sludge splattered across his back, and Zuni made a disgusted sound. "Revolting!"
More creatures were rising from the swamp. What had been twelve was now approaching twenty.
"We're drawing a crowd," Adom observed, maintaining his altitude as he assessed the new threats. "Time to be more efficient."
He closed his eyes for half a second, concentrating.
Then, a realization.
I'm already double weaving with my spells while maintaining the [Flight] spell without any problem, could I...
When his eyes opened, he'd formulated a new approach.
[Multiple Target: Compression]
Five compression spells fired simultaneously, each seeking out a creature's head. Five pops followed, five bodies dissolved.
Yes!
The remaining creatures seemed to hesitate, as if suddenly aware they were dealing with something beyond their usual prey.
Adom didn't give them time to reconsider. He wove a complex pattern with both hands, combining multiple spell structures into a single devastating attack.
[Area Effect: Pressure Wave]
An invisible force radiated outward, catching eight more creatures in its grip. Instead of a general compression, this spell specifically targeted their heads, crushing them with precision. Eight more dissolved into sludge.
Three creatures remained, hovering just out of range. They seemed to be communicating somehow, coordinating.
"I believe they're adapting to your strategy," Zuni noted.
"Then we'll give them something new to adapt to."
Adom shot upward another fifty feet, then spread his arms wide.
[Gravity Well]
Below him, the air seemed to distort. The remaining creatures were suddenly yanked toward a central point, pulled by an irresistible force. As they collided, Adom closed his fist.
[Implosion]
The compressed mass of creatures collapsed inward, their heads crushing against each other. The spell released, and what remained was nothing but falling sludge.
Adom hovered, scanning the swamp below. A few ripples disturbed the surface, but nothing else emerged.
"Twenty-eight," he said, counting the puddles of dissolving goo. "I think that's all of them."
He floated higher, catching his breath. The barrage of spells had taken more out of him than he'd expected. His mana reserves were still substantial—far more than they'd been before his transformation—but not limitless.
"Are you all right?" he asked Zuni, glancing at his shoulder.
The quillick was flattened against his collar, amber eyes wide. "I believe I preferred the illusion forest," he said weakly.
Adom hovered above the swamp, scanning the murky expanse below. Grayish sludge still rained down, the remains of his attackers dissolving into the water.
"The others," he said suddenly. "They're still out there somewhere."
"If they escaped the butterflies," Zuni reminded him.
"I need to find them." Adom started to turn, mentally plotting search patterns. "We came here for the egg, but not at the cost of their lives."
They live, came a voice like wind through branches. Your companions survive. All of them.
Adom froze mid-air. "Finally, you're clear again."
The whispers returned, no longer muffled or distant, but clear as spoken words.
"Pardon?" Zuni asked, peering around nervously.
The dwarf fights on one arm, said a second voice, dry as autumn leaves. The ranger leads him through shadow paths. The rogue tracks your trail, though poorly. And the leprechaun is closest to you.
"So they're okay," Adom said with relief. "Where are they now?"
Zuni gave him a concerned look. "Are you conversing with the air?"
We see all paths in her domain, the whispers replied in unison. We will guide them to safety, as we guide you.
But you must not search by air, warned a brook-voice. Her eyes watch the skies. Her sentinels patrol the upper winds.
Northeast, urged a leaf-voice. You must hurry northeast.
"To the cave and the egg, I know," Adom said. "But my friends—"
The egg stirs, whispered the branch-voice. The witch has sensed it. She knows intruders have entered her territory.
"Why do you want me to have this egg?" Adom asked. "You've shown it to me in dreams for weeks, but never explained why."
When you reach the cave, you will understand, the whispers replied. But you must hurry. She must not claim it first.
A girl waits by still waters, the brook-voice added. She will help, if you reach her in time.
"A girl? What girl?"
The witch sends her agents to search the swamp, interrupted the leaf-voice. Her spies will find you if you remain exposed.
Adom looked down at Zuni. "The whispers say our friends are alive. They'll guide them to safety, but we need to go northeast now. To the cave with the egg."
"I see," Zuni said, clearly not seeing at all. "And these... whispers... are trustworthy, are they?"
"They've kept us alive so far." Adom glanced at the horizon. "The witch knows we're in her territory. She'll be sending search parties."
Descend, the whispers urged. Walk hidden paths. Follow our guidance.
Adom lowered himself toward a patch of relatively solid ground on the edge of the swamp. As his feet touched down, he felt a tremor run through the earth—something large moving beneath the surface, heading their way.
"No time to debate," he said, canceling his flight spell. "We go northeast. Fast."
He took off at a run, staying low, ducking under twisted branches and leaping over fetid pools. Behind them, something massive breached the swamp's surface where they had been hovering moments before—a writhing mass of tentacles and eyes.
"What precisely is the plan?" Zuni asked, clinging to Adom's collar as they fled. "Beyond 'northeast' and 'find a girl'?"
"Get to the cave, get the egg before the witch does," Adom replied, vaulting over a fallen tree. "That's what we came for."
Her sentinels will be watching the main paths, the whispers warned. You must take the hidden ways.
Adom pushed harder, weaving through the treacherous landscape as the whispers guided him.
Left here. Now right. Beneath the arch of bones. Through the mist, not around.
"She knows we're here," Adom muttered as he ducked under a low-hanging branch dripping with some foul-smelling substance. "The witch. She'll be organizing search parties by now."
"Marvelous," Zuni replied dryly. "Just what we needed to make this excursion more perilous."
They crested a small rise, and Adom paused briefly to get his bearings. In the distance, dark shapes moved across the sky—winged things with elongated bodies.
"Her sentinels," he whispered.
They seek movement, heat, magic, the branch-voice explained. Your white aura draws their attention like a beacon.
You must conceal it, the brook-voice urged. Hide the light within.
"How?" Adom asked. "I can't just turn it off."
Listen, the whispers commanded in unison. Repeat these words in your mind only.
The leaf-voice began to murmur words in a language Adom had never heard before—ancient-sounding syllables that seemed to resonate with something deep inside him.
"Me-lám-mu ma-da-ĝál..."
Adom mentally repeated the phrase, feeling a strange vibration in his chest. And, to his surprise, he understood it.
My power, obey me.
"Šà-mu-šè nu-nu..."
With each phrase, the white glow surrounding him dimmed slightly, drawing inward. Into my heart, withdraw.
"Bar-ta nu-è bar-ta nu-è..."
Outward do not escape, outward do not escape.
His aura contracted further, pulling beneath his skin.
"What is this?" he whispered.
Do not speak. Focus. Command your essence.
Adom closed his eyes briefly. This wasn't mere meditation—his mana was directly responding to the words, as if they held inherent power. Some form of magic he'd never encountered before.
Verbal.
"Níĝ-šu-mu-šè ĝál..."
Into my grasp, remain.
The final command clicked something into place. The white aura collapsed inward, disappearing beneath his skin. It didn't vanish—he could still feel it coursing through him—but it was contained now, hidden from outside observers.
"...How?," Adom murmured, examining his now normal-looking hands. "The words themselves have power. My mana responded directly to them."
"Did you say something?" Zuni asked, peering at him curiously.
Adom adjusted his pace, careful now about how much mana he expelled. Every spell would be like a signal flare to their pursuers.
"How much farther to this cave?" he asked.
Three leagues, if the path holds, replied the brook-voice. Less if you dare the shadow road.
"What's the shadow road?"
Dangerous, came the immediate reply. But faster. Her hunters rarely patrol it.
The girl knows the way through, added the leaf-voice. She waits where the water meets the stone.
Adom weighed his options. The longer they stayed in the open, the greater the chance of being spotted. But these "shadow roads" sounded risky in their own way.
"Show me this shadow road," he decided.
There, directed the leaf-voice. Where light bends wrong around that withered tree.
Adom spotted it—a patch of darkness that seemed deeper than it should be, swirling slightly around the base of a gnarled, dead tree.
"I hope you're right about this," he told the whispers, then glanced at Zuni. "Hold tight, Librarian. We're taking a shortcut."
"I sincerely hope this 'shortcut' is less perilous than what we've encountered thus far," Zuni replied, gripping Adom's collar with renewed determination.
Adom took a deep breath and plunged.
through the darkness, feeling it wrap around him. For three heartbeats, there was nothing—no sound, no light, no sensation beyond the chill against his skin. Then reality snapped back into focus.
He emerged into what seemed like the same swamp, but fundamentally wrong—as if someone had taken the original landscape and twisted it. The trees were taller, more gnarled. The water was blacker. The sky above was a deep purple, without sun or stars.
Move quickly now, the whispers urged. Run northeast. Do not stop.
Adom didn't need to be told twice. He took off at a sprint, his feet barely touching the ground. Since the transformation, his body moved differently—faster, more precisely, with a grace that felt almost supernatural.
"Are we quite certain this is the correct path?" Zuni asked, clinging to Adom's collar.
"No time for debate," Adom replied. He reached up, gently plucking Zuni from his shoulder. "Pocket. Safer."
Zuni made an indignant chirping sound as Adom tucked him into his breast pocket. "I protest this undignified—"
"Shh!"
Behind them, something crashed through the underbrush. Something big.
Left here, the whispers directed. Through the hollow tree.
Adom veered sharply, spotting the massive fallen trunk. He dove through the hollow center without breaking stride, tucking into a roll and coming up running on the other side.
The sounds of pursuit grew louder—heavy footfalls, rhythmic and powerful. Not like the squelching creatures from before. This was different.
More deliberate.
More intelligent.
Right! Now duck!
Adom dropped into a slide just as something whistled overhead—an arrow or spear. It thudded into a tree ahead of him. He rolled behind a boulder, pressing his back against it as he caught his breath.
"I believe we are being hunted," Zuni observed from the pocket, his voice muffled. "Rather enthusiastically, I might add."
Adom peered around the edge of the boulder. What he saw made his blood freeze.
Three massive figures galloped through the swamp about fifty yards back, moving with rapidly through terrain that should have slowed anything larger than a rabbit. Their lower bodies were equine—powerful, muscled, with six legs instead of four. But where a horse's neck should begin, they bore humanoid torsos, twice as tall as a normal man's. Their heads were elongated, with too many eyes arranged in clusters, and their arms—four per creature—carried barbed spears and serrated bows.
"What the hell are those?" Adom whispered.
Her hunters, the whispers replied. The witch's favored trackers. They will not tire. They will not stop.
One of the creatures raised its head, sniffing the air. Multiple eyes swiveled independently, scanning the terrain. It made a sound—a high, keening whistle that set Adom's teeth on edge.
The others responded, spreading out to flank his position.
"They're surrounding us," Adom muttered.
Hurry, the whispers instructed. When the lead hunter passes the dead tree with three branches, run for the stone arch ahead. Do not use magic unless absolutely necessary.
Adom tensed, ready to move. The largest hunter approached the marker tree, its six hooves barely disturbing the muck beneath them.
Five, four, three... Adom counted.
"I do hope you have a plan beyond 'run faster,'" Zuni said.
Two, one, NOW!
Adom exploded from cover, pushing his body to its limit. The world slowed around him as his perception sharpened. He could see each droplet of fetid water splashing as his feet hit the ground, could count the individual teeth in the hunter's mouth as it whipped its head toward him.
The creature howled. Its spear came up, arm drawing back to throw.
Adom didn't break stride. His body twisted in mid-run, corkscrewing around the projectile as it hurtled past. Back on his feet in the same fluid motion, he kept running.
The stone arch loomed ahead—a natural formation of two leaning rocks. Beyond it, the terrain dipped into a ravine choked with mist.
"They're gaining!" Zuni warned, peering from the pocket.
Adom risked a glance back. The hunters were closing, their six-legged gallop eating up the distance with terrifying efficiency. Fifty yards. Forty. The lead hunter's spear arm was drawing back again.
Do not look back. Go through the arch.
Adom dove through the stone arch just as another spear whistled through the air where his head had been. He tucked and rolled down the steep embankment beyond, letting momentum carry him into the mist-filled ravine.
The mist swallowed him whole, thick as soup and cold as ice. For three breaths, he tumbled blindly down the slope, unable to see or orient himself. Then his feet hit solid ground, and he was running again, the whispers guiding his path through the opaque whiteness.
Left. Right. Jump the crevice. Duck under the fallen log.
The hunters crashed into the ravine behind him, their whistling calls distorted by the mist. They were still following, but blind now—tracking by sound and scent rather than sight.
"I say, this fog is rather convenient," Zuni observed, poking his head fully out of the pocket now. "Though I'd prefer if we weren't being pursued by those abominations."
Twenty yards ahead, the whispers directed. There's a passage through the rock face. Too narrow for them to follow.
Adom spotted it—a dark vertical slash in the stone wall of the ravine. He sprinted toward it, hearing the hunters closing in behind him. The lead creature was so close he could hear its breathing—wet and ragged, like a bellows pumping mud.
Five yards from the crevice, his foot caught on a hidden root. He stumbled.
The hunter behind him roared in triumph, multiple arms extending. Clawed fingers grazed Adom's back as he pitched forward.
Instinct took over. Adom tucked into a shoulder roll, converting his fall into controlled momentum. He came up smoothly and threw himself sideways into the narrow gap in the rock wall.
Stone scraped his shoulders as he squeezed through. Behind him, the hunter slammed into the opening, too large to follow. It howled in rage, one arm thrusting into the gap, claws scraping at the air inches from Adom's face.
He scrambled backward, deeper into the passage, until the arm could no longer reach him.
"That was uncomfortably close," Zuni said, his tiny body trembling against Adom's chest.
Adom sucked in a deep breath. "We made it."
Keep moving, the whispers urged. They will find another way around.
The passage was narrow but passable, winding through the rock like a natural tunnel. Adom moved forward at a steady pace, alert for any signs of danger ahead.
After what felt like hours but might have been minutes, the tunnel began to lighten. The whispers grew more insistent.
Hurry. They circle around to the other side.
Adom broke into a jog, then a run as the tunnel widened. Ahead, daylight beckoned—real daylight, not the sickly purple glow of the shadow road.
He burst from the tunnel into blinding sunshine. The transition was jarring—from cold stone to warm, sweet air. For a moment, he stood blinking, adjusting to the light.
A vast prairie stretched before him, tall grasses swaying in a gentle breeze. To his right, a clear river cut through the landscape, its waters sparkling in the sunlight.
It was beautiful. And completely at odds with the nightmarish swamp he'd left behind.
"My word," Zuni said, climbing back onto Adom's shoulder for a better view. "What a remarkable change in scenery."
Adom didn't have time to appreciate it. The ground trembled beneath his feet—the hunters, approaching from another direction.
The river, the whispers said. Get to the river. Water slows them.
Adom took off across the prairie, grass whipping around his legs as he ran. The river was perhaps two hundred yards away—an easy sprint under normal circumstances.
But the ground was shaking more violently now. Looking back, he saw them—the hunters, emerging from a hidden ravine to his left. They'd circled around, just as the whispers predicted.
And in daylight, they were even more terrifying.
Their hides weren't dark as he'd thought in the shadow road, but a mottled gray-green that shifted color as they moved, blending with their surroundings. Their multiple eyes gleamed like polished onyx, and their arms—each ending in three-fingered claws—moved with unsettling coordination.
The largest one spotted him and let out a sound like a hunting horn. The three split up, moving to surround him.
Adom calculated angles quickly. He couldn't outrun them to the river—they'd cut him off before he made it halfway.
"I need to slow them down," he muttered.
"Might I suggest using their size against them?" Zuni offered. "The terrain here seems considerably less stable than their homeland."
Adom glanced at the ground beneath his feet. The prairie wasn't solid earth but rather a floating mat of vegetation over what might be deeper water or mud.
An idea formed.
He changed direction, running parallel to the approaching hunters rather than away from them. The sudden shift seemed to confuse them momentarily.
"What precisely is the plan?" Zuni asked, clinging to Adom's collar as he accelerated.
"Making a trap."
Adom's hands moved in a subtle pattern at his side, weaving the simplest spell he could manage—just enough to weaken the ground without creating a visible energy signature.
[Loosen Earth]
The spell spread outward from his feet, affecting a circular area about twenty yards across. To the eye, nothing changed, but Adom could feel the difference—the mat of vegetation was now barely supported, floating on mud rather than anchored to anything solid.
The lead hunter charged straight toward him, six hooves pounding the earth, arms outstretched. It hit the weakened ground at full gallop.
The effect was immediate and spectacular. The surface gave way like wet paper, and the massive creature crashed through. Its forward momentum carried it several yards before it bogged down, sinking rapidly into the mud beneath. It thrashed, howling in surprise and rage, but each movement only pulled it deeper.
The other two hunters veered away from the collapsing ground, circling to approach from different angles.
"One down, two to go," Adom said, already running again, angling toward the river.
The hunters were more cautious now, testing the ground before committing their weight. It slowed them, but not enough. They were still faster than him, still gaining.
"They're rather persistent," Zuni observed.
Adom reached the riverbank with the hunters less than thirty yards behind. The water flowed swift and clear—about twenty feet across and of unknown depth.
Use it, the whispers urged. The water is yours to command.
Adom turned to face his pursuers, his back to the river. The hunters slowed their approach, spreading out to flank him. They recognized a cornered prey when they saw one.
The closest hunter raised its spear, a cruel smile spreading across its elongated face.
Adom smiled back.
The roles, it seemed, had switched.
His hands rose in a fluid motion.
[Water Manipulation]
Behind him, the river responded. A column of water rose, twisting like a living thing. It hovered for a moment, then shot forward at Adom's silent command.
The first hunter had no time to react. The water engulfed it completely, forming a churning sphere that lifted the creature off its feet. Inside the watery prison, the hunter thrashed and twisted, but couldn't break free.
Adom clenched his fist.
[Freeze]
The water prison instantly crystallized, trapping the hunter in a perfect sculpture of ice. For a heartbeat, it hung suspended in the air, a massive frozen statue. Then Adom released his hold, and it crashed to the ground, shattering into thousands of pieces.
The second hunter hesitated, multiple eyes blinking in what might have been surprise. Then, with a howl of rage, it charged.
Adom's hands were already moving again, drawing more water from the river. This time, he shaped it into dozens of spears, each as sharp as the finest steel.
[Ice Lances]
The hunter tried to dodge, its six legs moving with incredible agility. It avoided the first volley, the second, even part of the third. But there were too many. Ice spears impaled it through the chest, the neck, the hindquarters.
It stumbled, still trying to advance despite its wounds. Three more spears pierced its torso. It collapsed, ten yards from where Adom stood.
"Hah! Take this, you puny creatures, how dare you challenge a hunter as primal as a mage?" Zuni commented.
Adom lowered his hands, breathing hard. "Two down. Where's the—"
A shadow fell across him.
The third hunter—the largest—had circled during the fight. It loomed over him now, having approached silently from behind while he was distracted.
Adom spun, hands rising to weave another spell.
Too slow.
The hunter's arm swung down, not with a weapon but open-handed. The blow caught Adom across the chest, sending him flying backward.
He hit the ground hard, rolling to a stop several yards away. The spell he'd been forming dissipated, incomplete.
The hunter advanced, drawing a curved blade from its side. It made that keening whistle again—a sound of triumph.
Adom struggled to his feet, gathering his power for another spell. The white energy flowed more sluggishly now, his concentration broken by the impact. Or was it fatigue?
The hunter raised its blade.
And then it stopped. Its eyes widened, multiple pupils dilating in shock. A thin red line appeared across its neck.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the hunter's head slid from its shoulders, toppling forward to hit the ground with a dull thud. The body remained standing for three more heartbeats before collapsing in a heap.
Behind it stood a figure.
Tall—taller than Adom by at least a head—and wrapped in what looked like animal hides. A mask covered the upper half of the figure's face, crafted from what might have been a skull, white and gleaming in the sunlight. Dark hair spilled out from behind it, wild and uncut.
In the figure's hand was a curved blade, similar to the hunter's but more elegant, still dripping with dark blood.
It is her. The whispers said. The girl.
She pointed the blade directly at Adom's heart and shouted in a language he'd never heard before.
Adom raised his hands slowly. "I don't understand. I'm not your enemy."
The girl advanced, blade unwavering. She gestured at the fallen hunters, then back at Adom, clearly accusing him of bringing them here.
"I'm just trying to get away from them," Adom said, making calming gestures. "Same as you, I imagine."
The girl scoffed, saying something else in her strange language. She lunged forward suddenly, grabbing Adom by the front of his tunic and yanking him close. She was surprisingly strong for her lean frame, lifting him almost off his feet despite him being smaller than her.
Her eyes behind the wolf-skull mask were fierce and green, studying him with naked suspicion.
Do not resist her, the whispers warned suddenly. She is protected.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Adom said, keeping his hands visible and away from his body. "I just want to—"
The girl shook him violently, cutting him off. She said something else, her tone demanding. When Adom only looked confused, she shook him again, harder.
"I don't understand your language," Adom said, struggling to keep his balance as she gripped him.
"What does she want?" Zuni whispered from his pocket.
The girl spotted the movement, her eyes widening. She released Adom abruptly, jumping back and raising her blade defensively.
"It's just my friend," Adom said, carefully reaching into his pocket and lifting Zuni out. "See? He's harmless."
"I resent that characterization," Zuni muttered.
The girl stared at the quillick, momentarily distracted. Then her attention snapped back to Adom. She jabbed her blade toward him, saying something that sounded like a command.
"I think she wants us to leave," Zuni suggested.
Tell her the dryads sent you, the leaf-voice urged. Say 'meth'kal vor'as'
"Meth'kal vor'as," Adom repeated carefully.
The girl froze. The blade dipped slightly, her eyes widening behind the mask. She said something questioning, her voice softer now.
"Meth'kal vor'as," Adom repeated, gesturing to his ears. "The whispers. They guide me."
The girl's posture shifted, her head tilting as she studied him. She said something else, then gestured toward the mountains in the distance, then back at him, clearly asking a question.
"I'm trying to reach a cave," Adom said, mimicking a cave shape with his hands. "There's something there I need to find."
The girl shook her head, clearly frustrated by the language barrier. She stepped forward again, this time reaching for Adom's arm.
Let her touch you, the whispers said. She means no harm.
Adom held still as the girl grabbed his wrist. Her grip was firm but not painful. She turned his arm over, examining the white energy that still flickered beneath his skin.
"Mage," she said, one of the few words Adom could understand. She looked up at him, her expression unreadable behind the mask.
Then, with no warning, she shoved him hard.
Adom stumbled backward, surprised by the sudden aggression. "What—"
The girl was shouting now, advancing on him with her blade raised. Whatever understanding they'd briefly established was gone.
Do not resist! the whispers warned urgently. Her guardian comes!
Before Adom could process this, something massive slammed into him from behind. He felt it before he saw anything—a pressure in the air, a sense of enormous weight descending. Then he was airborne, struck by something he couldn't see but that felt like a battering ram.
He flew backward twenty feet, the world spinning around him. Somehow, his body reacted without conscious thought. He twisted mid-air, hands weaving a [Wind Cushion] spell. He landed in a crouch, one knee and one hand touching the ground to stabilize himself.
His head rang with the impact. Half-conscious, he looked up.
A distortion hovered in the air near the girl—or at least, partial form. It was enormous, at least fifteen feet tall, with a vaguely humanoid shape but no solid outline. Wind swirled around it, creating a visible boundary of dust and leaves. Where a face might be, two glowing points of blue light stared down at him with cold intensity.
The girl stood before it, tiny in comparison, one hand raised toward the spirit. She was speaking rapidly, her tone urgent.