Page 22
The horses twitched, ears flicking toward the trees. Somewhere in the mist, a sound like broken glass rolled and was gone. The night had just begun to settle when a howl split the air. Quiet, but high, shrill and unnatural.
Rhelas went still. “Do you hear that?”
Julen swallowed. “Probably foxes.”
Caelith had already risen, but he’d not yet drawn a blade. He stepped just beyond the circle of light and looked into the dark.
For a long moment, there was nothing.
Then Maia saw them.
Eyes. Pale, low to the ground. And far too many. Shapes shifted between the scrub at the edge of the hollow. Lean, canine forms, their hides catching starlight in fractured glints.
Deyar stood slowly. “Surely not…”
“Glasshounds,” Caelith confirmed.
“They don’t range this far inland,” Deyar muttered.
“They can follow tremor lines,” Caelith replied. “Where the stone weakens.”
Maia looked on in horror. The stories had never mentioned these. The creatures paced at the edge of the dark, silent except for the faint grinding sound of their movement. One stepped briefly into vision, its body shimmered like cracked mirrors, light bending all wrong across its flanks. As far as she could see, its eyes were hollow, colourless.
Maia’s breath caught, her feet about to pick up in response.
“Do not run.” Caelith’s voice was low, meant only for her, though the whole camp could likely hear it. He stepped just enough to place himself between her and the dark, close enough that she could feel the cold radiating off him even through her cloak. “They test for fear.”
She made herself go still, though her heart hadn’t got the message yet.
The hounds circled once more. Then, as though satisfied, they retreated into the mist.
The hollow felt colder after they vanished.
Deyar exhaled slowly. “Too far,” he muttered again. “This isn’t natural.”
Caelith said nothing. He had not once reached for his weapon.
Julen let out a shaky breath. “They were watching us.”
“Yes,” Caelith said.
Maia turned toward him.
“For what?”
His gaze remained on the hills. “For weakness. Any break in power.”
Deyar straightened. “Guardian. You take first watch. I’ll relieve you at second bell.”
Caelith nodded, finally moving from his guarded position in front of Maia. She breathed out, and wasn’t sure if it was relief.
The fire burned lower. One by one, they settled into an uneasy rest.
Maia lay down and turned onto her side, facing the fire. She told herself it was the cold keeping her awake, or the memory of pale eyes in the dark. But her gaze kept finding him anyway, the calm of his silhouette, the way the chains caught starlight as though even iron and steel couldn’t quite contain him.
Beyond the thinning flames, he stood at the edge of the hollow, still as the stones themselves. But to her surprise, he was not looking at the place where the glasshounds had been.
He was looking farther along the road. Towards Meridon.
