Page 35 of Aryn

He nods slowly, eyes drifting around the trees. “I think I get that. It’s like going to visit the home you grew up in. The bones might be the same, but everything else has moved on.”

“That’s awfully poetic for a mercenary.”

“Ah,” he drawls as he throws me a wink. “I’m more than just a handsome face.”

“I never doubted that,” I toss back.

He smiles at the ground, tracking another patch of blood orchids. “The flowers are pretty, even if they look like they’d bite if you got too close.”

“They might. Everything here has teeth, one way or another.”

He hums low in his throat. “Guess we’ll have to grow some teeth of our own, then.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “I suppose we will.”

Cato

We scour the forest, moving carefully and listening for any sign of predators. Every snapped twig and shifting branch makes us pause, but we find nothing. Only after we’re certain the area is clear do we finally move forward. We comb through the forest, checking every trunk and cluster of trees, and the tediousness of it all makes me restless. By the time we stumble upon the homestead, we’ve been out here for hours.

It’s laid out exactly as Nyx described—a long single-story home built nearly into the side of the hill. Grass and flowers would’ve grown along the natural roof, but now there are only remnants of stubborn weeds sticking up through the inches of snow. Old garden fences have fallen over, and a few trees lay across rows of plants that were once well-tended.

Ronan’s face is grim as he scans our surroundings. The snow muffles the ambient sounds, and so far, it’s been quiet. Aside from the occasional shifting of tree branches, we’ve only heard a few lightweight footsteps padding in the distance. They belong to small creatures, but it’s unnerving. The mood isn’t helped when the wind picks up, cutting across our skin and howling among the trees. They’re denser here, limiting our range of sight.

Aryn glances up at the sky, nodding toward the smallest, brightest moon that’s half-hidden by the horizon. “We’ll lose the light soon,” he says.

Ronan looks around before latching onto the way Cameron shivers. I fight to hold my own chills back, but my body isn’t exactly obeying me right now. The cold is worse than I could’ve imagined. Back home, the worst I dealt with was a chilly night or a bad rain.

This is different.

It’s a new kind of enemy, one that can’t be beaten with knives or fists. It sinks into your bones like it’s trying to carve you open from the inside. Every breath burns, and my fingers are stiff and clumsy inside my gloves.

Still, I keep my face neutral. No one needs to see me struggling.

“Let’s take a look inside,” Ronan finally says. “This place looks abandoned, but we need to be sure. We can talk more when we’re out of the weather.”

He leads the way, forcing the rusted hinges open. Wind hurls the door back and snow flutters into the dark room as Aryn and I bring up the rear. We scout to make sure there are no signs of being watched before we push the door closed once more and give our ears a moment to adjust to the sudden stillness.

Inside, the light from the moons barely reaches through the windows, but it’s clear no one has been here in years. While the larger furniture remains, it’s covered in a thick layer of dust and draped in sheets of cobwebs.

“It doesn’t look like there was a struggle,” Aryn says as he opens a few cabinets. “There’s no damage to the property, and it looks like they cleared out all the personal items.”

“Wonder why they left, then?” Lillith muses.

“Could be any number of reasons,” Taryn answers. “Maybe resources dried up. Nyx is a vegetarian, so I imagine his family may be as well. It’s possible the cold could’ve killed off their crops and forced them to relocate.”

“Or maybe there was trouble in the area,” Cameron says with a grimace, “and they had to get away from it. I can’t imagine them fighting.”

“There’s no way to know,” Aryn says. “Lets search the house. I doubt there’s anything of use left behind, but it can’t hurt to check.”

We scan the home, digging through all five of the modest bedrooms before reconvening in the living area. Ronan gnaws at his lip, glancing out the window to where that small moon has turned into a mere sliver on the horizon.

“Traveling in the darkest part of night is asking for trouble. Nocturnal creatures are a risk, as is mis-navigating the terrain with all this snow and ice. We could end up in a ravine or falling into a lake.” His eyes move to mine, then over to Aryn. “There are at least five hours left until sunrise, and being out in the cold has already taken a toll on mobility.”

“Yeah, my fingers feel like they might just snap in half,” Lillith says, flexing them under her gloves.

“What if we camp here for the night?” Ronan asks. “It’s only been a few hours since we arrived, but…”

“It makes sense,” Aryn insists. “The weather is getting worse and it’ll be fully dark soon. It’s approaching night on the other side anyway, and none of us slept well last night. Being tired will only get us into trouble.”