Page 81 of Queen of Whispers and Mist

She was still berating herself when she came upon the battle site from the night before. The nightdrake was no less terrifying in the sunlight. Its corpse was still impaled, but the blood that had dripped free had burned away most of the spikes holding it as well as the earth below, meaning that it had slid down until it was suspended just above an acid-made pit.

“Lovely.”

She turned as Ronan drew up beside her. “We should probably burn it or bury it.”

He grunted. “Why bother? It seems halfway through burying itself.”

She shook her head, unable to dispute the logic, and allowed her gaze to drift to the houses beyond.

The obviously empty houses.

“They aren’t here.”

“Bast? Caly?” he shouted, frowning when no answer came back.

“Didn’t believe me?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to check. Maybe they didn’t want to take a chance Blind Willie over here would wake up and continue his reign of terror.”

She snickered even as her gut told her it wasn’t that innocent. With Erebos’s warning still fresh in her mind, she couldn’t mistake their disappearance as anything other than foul play. They wouldn’t have moved on without leaving word of where they’d gone or sending Buttercup to collect them, at the very least.

Reyna crept closer to the abandoned cabins, her eyes constantly scanning for any sort of clue, the tension crawling through her growing more urgent with every passing second.

“Something doesn’t feel right.”

He jerked his thumb toward the corpse. “Besides him?”

She bit down on her lip and nodded. “The others should be here. Or at least nearby. Where would they have gone? And why did they leave without us?”

Ronan’s expression was grim. “Maybe they didn’t get a choice.”

That’s what she was afraid of.

She’d known this was a possibility, obviously. It was the entire reason she’d insisted Ronan leave their private oasis and come back with her. But part of her had hoped the instinctive urge prompting her had been a false alarm. That it was just her subconscious being overcautious after the last few days.

Reaching the end of the little village, she knelt down, her fingers skimming the packed dirt.

“What are you thinking?” Ronan asked, joining her.

“There should be a trail, right? It rained almost nonstop for a full day. The earth is still damp, perfect for prints. But look, no boot prints. Not in either direction, except for ours.”

Ronan’s brows dropped low as he looked back the way they’d just come, his eyes following the fresh marks they’d left. “Our tracks from last night should be here too.”

She nodded.

But the tracks, just like the rest of the party, were missing.

“Do you think someone went through and cleared them?”

“Like who?”

“Maybe those riders came back for Bast, found the others, and nabbed them as well?” Ronan suggested.

“Hmm... maybe. It’s certainly possible.”

“But you don’t think that’s what happened?” he guessed.

She couldn’t put her finger on it, but Reyna had the feeling they were missing something crucial.

---