My hands flew up to cover my nose. “Oh, gods. What is that?”
“We need to go.” His voice was tight and clipped with urgency while he yanked the damp tunic over himself.
Emberhollow had been consumed by twilight. The skeletal ruins and crooked chimneys lay in wait, shrouded in shadows.
The sound returned, closer this time. It was a deep, wet crunch of sinew tearing and bones breaking under something heavy. Then, silence so profound that it rang in my ears.
My stomach turned to stone. The air felt wrong. Dense. The forest itself had stopped breathing.
“What is that?” I whispered, my throat dry.
“We don’t have time to find out.” He grabbed my arm and pulled. His hands gripped my waist, lifting me onto the saddle as if I weighed nothing. Untying the reins with practiced speed, he swung up behind me. The heat of his chest pressed against my back, solid and grounding even through the damp fabric of his shirt.
“Hold on tight,” he warned.
He snapped the reins, and the horse lunged forward. The wind tore past my ears as we plunged into the woods, with branches and shadows blurring around us. My knuckles whitened against the saddle. I struggled to think or breathe over the thunder of hoofbeats and the pounding in my chest.What was that sound? What thing made a noise like that?
I turned my head to glance at him. “What was that?!”
His arms caged me with a tense posture. “You said you never left your home village,” he shouted. “Do they ever talk about other villages there?”
“I was too busy surviving to listen much. Why?” Another sickening crack echoed behind us, followed by a guttural growl. My muscles grew so taut that they ached.
Oberon leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Welcome to Emberhollow,” he growled. “Where the dead don’t always stay buried.”
11
Oberon
MYGRIPTIGHTENEDonthe reins while I guided Neryth along the dense, uneven path. The distant snap of twigs and low, guttural growls echoed through the forest behind us. The air was thick with an unnatural presence that made me wary.
Every noise tugged at my awareness. The slightest movement in the trees made me reach for my sword. Ashenmaws didn’t easily give up a chase. I didn’t know if they had followed us this far, but I didn’t assume we were safe. That mistake could have cost us our lives.
Quinn tensed before she spoke. “Sinclaire, what—”
“Quiet,” I muttered, knowing I couldn’t afford the distraction, especially when her voice might have attracted them. Thankfully, she listened, straightening her posture and facing ahead again.
Smart.
The breeze rustled the branches, causing a sudden surge of unease in my stomach. Silverfel was close, but the horrors of Emberhollow still consumed my thoughts. It unsettled me that Quinn had never even heard of it. She mentioned the Gods, which meant she believed in the Veilborn faith, a religion that remained mostly within small rural villages.What small, isolated village had she come from that no one spoke of it? Or did they discuss other villages’ pasts and superstitions, but she simply missed it?
Her words from earlier echoed in my mind:‘too busy surviving.’The matter-of-fact way she said it made it clear that whatever she had experienced was grave enough to make her ignore fear and legends in favor of survival. I didn’t like what that implied, especially after what I read in her journal.
As Silverfel came into view, I eased Neryth to a slower pace. Quinn shifted her weight until her back pressed against my chest. Her body was no longer tense, but my muscles became rigid in response.
“What are you doing?”
“Being a fool,” she sighed.
My head tilted as I waited for a proper explanation.
She hummed, then muttered, “I would be more than stubborn not to admit that was terrifying.” Throughout the night, she acted sharp-tongued and quick-witted, never revealing her shaken state. But now, with the worst of it behind us, she let herself lean into me. “You will survive,” she added.
I scoffed, but I didn’t push her away. The Ashenmaws continued to crackle and growl in my mind. If she needed a moment to catch her breath, so be it.Why didn’t I mind it as much as I should have?
Maybe it was the fatigue.
Quinn straightened abruptly, breaking the strange moment that had settled between us. She pointed to the dense thicket just off the path. “Do you think it’s safe to piss there?”