Nicco didn’t ask why. He just adjusted his stride with mine. The snow ahead dipped slightly, not enough to notice unless you were looking for it.
I crouched, brushing my glove just above the surface. The same ripple. That wrong, melted-then-frozen feel.
“Don’t step there,” I ordered.
A soldier behind me shifted instinctively, too close, and his boot brushed the edge of it.
Everything stopped. Not just us, but it felt like the world itself. The air tightened sharply, the way it did when you sucked in a huge breath.
The soldier froze. “Did I—” he whispered.
“Don’t move,” I whispered.
Too late. The snow beneath his boot… sank. It didn’t collapse or break. It just gave way, almost as if it had never been solid at all.
He yanked his foot back.
And the ripple spread. Slowly and deliberately, it expanded outward in a thin, glassy sheen across the snow.
I stood. “Move now.”
No one hesitated. We shifted away as one, pulling back from the disturbance. And the ripple stopped just as suddenly as it had begun.
Silence returned quickly, thick, heavy, watchful. “What the fuck was that?” Captain Marson asked.
I didn’t answer because it was obvious what it was, and I was starting to understand just enough about the kind of creature it was.
“It doesn’t need to see us,” I said softly.
Nicco’s head tilted slightly as he turned to look at me. “Why do you say that?”
I shook my head. “I think it can feel us.”
I could sense their eyes on my back — interest, disbelief — none of it mattered. As long as they were listening, it didn’t matter if they believed me.
We moved faster after that. We weren’t running, but we were quicker. Nicco and I checked the snow ahead, following the trail to make sure there were no more ripples in the snow.
A building loomed ahead, larger than the others, stone, reinforced with double iron-bound doors.
“Storehouse,” I said. “This is where we want to be.”
“If it’s not already empty,” Baxley muttered.
“Everything here is empty,” Larana replied flatly.
That reminder wasn’t comforting.
Nicco stepped ahead of me this time, testing the door with the edge of his blade. It didn’t move. Locked. Because why wouldn’t it be?
“Stand back,” he told me.
I didn’t argue; I did as told. He stepped in, shoulder hitting the wood once, twice, and then the lock gave with a sharp crack. I held my breath as I scanned the area behind us, worried he’d alerted anyone left in this town to our location.
The door creaked inward. Darkness lingered within. Cold. Still. Unsettling. No one rushed in. Not even him. We all hesitated on the threshold.
“Quick,” the captain said to his men, breaking the uneasy silence. “In and out.”
I let them pass me, and when I stepped inside, that same hollow pull tightened in my chest again.
