But who didn’t enjoy looking at pretty things, like the landscape or an elf? Maybe it was all the walking that was making his heart beat a little too fast, the novelty of it all drawing his gaze.
The evening was the same. When the sun began to set, they found a suitable place to rest. Korik had enough energy left to spy on Enriel and the poacher orcs one last time; from the vantage point of an owl high above, he could see that they too were making camp about five miles north. Enriel looked the same, though it was hard to tell from this height—but there were no obvious signs of injury or blood.
“You’re sure?” Varen pressed when he reported what he saw.
“I’m sure,” he replied. “I don’t think they intend to harm her. And the others, I only caught glimpses, but... they seemed mostly unharmed as well.”
Varen sighed, but said no more on the matter. He sat looking down at the ground with his forehead propped on one hand for a while; then eventually he forced down a piece of bread with cheese, drank from his waterskin, and laid down on his bedroll.
The next day was more of the same, though the landscape was more rocky fields than forest now. It was mostly desolate, and so open that the orcs with their mounts managed to gain some distance on them today. Most of the creatures Korik found were small animals that lived in the ground or amongst the rocks: mice and shrews and small birds. He was only able to catch sight of the poachers three times that day, and each time was through the eyes of a hawk—twice the same hawk, which was quite disturbed by the repeated intrusion. He was less sure of what he could see, but still reported it was all much the same.
Halfway through the third day, Korik was spying on the poachers through another, very annoyed hawk. He was high above them, barely able to make out enough details to discern if Enriel was still alright. From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something in the distance. He urged the hawk to turn toward it; the creature circled a few times, which allowed Korik to catch a glimpse of what looked like tents to the north.
It was only a handful, too far and too unfocused for Korik to count. He always felt guilty trying to force an animal to do something it so clearly did not want to do, so he tried only once to urge it in that direction again; when it resisted, he didn’t push it any further. From the memories he had gleaned from the horses, there was a camp much larger than this—though it was hard to judge if it might have been somewhere unrelated from long ago, or if this was yet another offshoot of a larger force.
“They’re almost at a camp,” Korik said when he dropped out of the hawk, stumbling back into his own awareness. “It doesn’t seem very big, though. I couldn’t get a good look, but I doubt it’s more than ten tents.”
Varen frowned, considering for a long moment before responding. “We’ll need to be careful approaching, regardless. Once we can get a better look at what we’re dealing with, we can make a plan. Did it look like they’ll reach it today?”
“Before nightfall, yes,” Korik replied.
“Hopefully there’ll still be light out so we can see better,” Varen sighed. “Come on, then. We need to keep an eye out for scouts.”
By sunset, Enriel and her captors had joined the larger camp of orcs; Korik and Varen observed from about a mile away. The smoke of their campfires streaked the darkening sky, which gave Korik a better estimation of how many they truly numbered. He was sure it was no more than twenty orcs, and definitely not the greater encampment he had seen in the horse’s memories. It made him wonder again what was going on, whether this was part of some grander scheme—but he had little time for speculation.
Now that they were this close, Varen was insufferable in his worry and frustration. He could only go off of what Korik told him, which was clearly driving him mad.
“Do you think we’ll be able to approach from this direction?” Varen pressed, after Korik had described the camp as well as he could. “Should we be trying to get around from another side?”
Korik closed his eyes to better visualize what he’d seen again. It wasn’t like he’d been able to observe it well from a single viewpoint; it was hard to judge direction as a bird high above, swooping and spiraling in the wind.
“I think the prisoners were being kept more to the north,” he finally said, but he could hear the uncertainty in his own voice. Varen seemed to deflate, looking away.
“I need to get a look at this camp before we decide on anything,” he sighed. “We have to get closer.”
Korik’s heart leapt up into his throat at the suggestion. “I don’t think it’s safe to get any closer.”
To his surprise—and frustration—Varen laughed. All the worry and stress that had been obvious on his face seemed to vanish for just a brief moment as he smirked up at Korik.
“I suppose you haven’t seen me in action,” he said, a familiar swagger temporarily returning to his voice. Korik felt heat rising in his own face. “Don’t worry. I won’t be seen. If you’re worried, stay here. But I need to scout this out.”
He paused, expression sobering again when Korik appeared unconvinced. “Or you could always just keep an eye on me from the sky. Or wherever.”
Korik’s brow furrowed. The thought of Varen scouting ahead alone made his heart pound with anxiety; but if he sent his consciousness into an animal to monitor him, then his own body would remain out in the open, alone and unguarded. A few brief moments of it, he would probably be safe enough, but however long it would take for Varen to scout was another matter entirely.
Plus, he had no idea if Varen was truly so stealthy that he could approach without attracting any attention. He had seen Varen briefly use his magic to silence himself, but had witnessed little of the elf’s abilities beyond those panicked moments.
“I will wait here,” Korik said. The words felt heavy and acrid on his tongue, but he had no better offer. “I will try and keep an eye on you as much as I can. But I don’t want to linger too long unprotected.”
Something in Varen’s eyes seemed to shift, soften somehow. It was hard to place, and Korik was half-sure that he imagined it.
“I understand,” the elf sighed, turning away. “I don’t want you to get caught unawares, either. Take care of yourself first. I’ll be fine. These orcs are sloppy for kidnappers, all things considered. They’ll never notice me.”
“Sloppy?” Korik echoed, unsure. But Varen didn’t clarify. Instead, that arrogant smirk returned as he looked back up at Korik once more.
“In fact, I’ll bet on it,” he chuckled. “Wager you twenty gold I can get there and back without them,oryou, noticing me.”
“No,” Korik replied flatly, and Varen laughed again.
