“I don’t hear anything,” she whispered. “That’s not natural, and I fear…”
“That whatever’s out there isn’t natural either.”
She nodded, and he said nothing. She expected to see that recoil of disbelief, of not wanting to insult her but thinking she was indeed being foolish. Instead, she saw him peering into the shadowy forest, his dark eyes bright, his lips slightly pursed. Looking and thinking, equally hard.
“Not thunder hawks or death worms,” he mused. “Wrong landscape for either. Not shadow stalkers either.”
She could have laughed as he voiced exactly what she’d been thinking.
“It could be someone with a tracking hound,” she said.
“A very quiet hound. Having spent time in Tova’s company, I’m not sure that’s possible. A hunting cat, perhaps.”
Daigo harrumphed, looking pleased.
Tyrus continued. “But if it was a hunting cat, I would hope Daigo would know. In fact, I should hope he’d know what it was regardless.”
The wildcat’s eyes narrowed.
“Daigo,” he said. “Why don’t you go see what’s out there?”
The wildcat backed up, bumping into Moria’s legs and sitting on his haunches at her feet. He stretched out a giant paw, claws extending.
“No, you don’t need to watch over Moria. I can do that.”
Daigo motioned with his nose to the forest, as if to say, I’ll stand guard. You go investigate.
“He listens about as well as you do,” Tyrus said to Moria. “And argues as much, too.”
“Which is why I don’t try to give him orders.”
She lowered her hand to Daigo’s head, rubbing behind his neck. He let out a rumbling purr, looked at Tyrus, and sniffed.
“We don’t see anything and neither does he,” Moria said. “I’d suggest, instead of standing here debating our next step, we simply move. This way?”
She motioned, and Tyrus nodded. “The forest thins after a while. I was able to ride partway in, and I brought a horse for you. They’re camped over there.”
“Good. If there is something in this forest, we’ll do better escaping it on horseback.”
As they set out, the moon passed behind cloud cover, stealing the little bit of light that guided them. Tyrus pulled a torch from his cloak and handed it to Moria, leaving both his hands free for his sword. The torch was small, barely enough to light their way. Larger, though, and it would have been a beacon for anyone who came after them.
Daigo’s head swiveled as they walked. With every few steps, he’d pause, gaze whipping in one direction or the other. He’d peer into the pitch-black forest, then chuff, telling Moria he could see or hear nothing, and they’d continue on.
Something was out there. But perhaps it wasn’t a threat. Not every fantastical creature was inherently dangerous.
“It can’t be dragons either,” Tyrus said as they walked. “They’d be larger. Noisier.”
He was smiling wryly, as if he knew she was doing the same thing, running through the list of possibilities.
“Definitely not dragons,” she agreed. “Nor—”
She caught a glimpse of red in the forest and stopped short. Red eyes. She’d seen red eyes.
“Did you…?” she whispered.
Daigo grunted, and Tyrus shook his head. Neither had noticed. She resumed walking.
“Not water horses either,” she said, “given the complete lack of water.”
Tyrus chuckled. “I’ve seen a stream or two. Perhaps they are much smaller than in the stories.”
“Sadly, so far, nothing is smaller than in the stories. But I would be quite happy with tiny water horses or dragons the size of dragonflies or…”
She trailed off.
“Moria?”
I think I know what it is. That’s what she wanted to say, but she stopped herself. There was an entire bestiary of magical and lost creatures that Alvar Kitsune could have resurrected, and while they were joking about narrowing the possibilities, the truth was that it would be nearly impossible to guess. If she thought she knew, that was only because her mind was leaping to the worst possible conclusion.
Or the most likely conclusion?
If something fantastical lived in these woods, it was because Alvar Kitsune put it there to keep out those who slipped past the guards at the forest’s edge. And if one had to resurrect a creature to quietly guard a forest, it would not be a death worm or a thunder hawk or even a dragon, but a monstrous spirit of myth, like shadow stalkers… only worse.
She peered into the forest again and caught another flash of crimson.
“I saw that,” Tyrus whispered. “Red eyes.”
She nodded.
“That’s all I saw. No shape.”
That’s all you will see, if I’m correct.
“How much farther?” she asked.
“We’re almost there.”
“Can we go faster?”
He nodded.
“Just don’t run,” she said. “Whatever you do, don’t run.”
“You think it’s —” He cut himself off with a curse. “Of course.”
“I could be wrong.” I hope to the ancestors I am. “Just keep moving. Don’t try to see them.”
“Believe me, I don’t want to see them.”
She made a noise of agreement under her breath. Daigo had fallen back beside her now, guarding her on one side, Tyrus at the other.