The limbit let out a frustrated breath and sat up on the couch where he rested. His first thought was to check on Jahrra. She slept peacefully on her bed, her breathing deep and even. That was good. At least at the moment she was safe. Perhaps the thing that had him on the verge of panic was somewhere inside the cabin. Dervit stopped breathing for a moment and narrowed his eyes. The room was nearly dark, only the last embers in the fireplace burning like tiny, wicked eyes. He listened for several seconds, hearing nothing but his own heartbeat. The room was clear, yet the horrible, dark feeling with fangs and claws continued to tear at him. Suddenly, the spacious area was stifling, and Dervit felt an overwhelming need to escape.
Kicking his blanket to the side, the limbit sat up and glowered at the cabin door. The soft, slow breath of a dragon just outside informed him that Jaax was finally asleep. Dervit desperately needed some fresh air, but he could not escape through the door. Waking a sleeping dragon who was primed to flame anyone so much as blinking in his direction was a very bad idea.
Dervit glanced at the window set to the left of Jahrra’s bed. His pointed ears twitched, and he took another breath. As quietly as he could, he crept off the couch and climbed up onto the bedside table, all the while using his fox senses and agility to remain completely silent. He reached up and pulled open the window, breathing a sigh of relief when the hinges worked smoothly without so much as a tiny squeak. When he glanced out into the darkness, his breath caught in his throat. A massive shape blocked half the window. Jaax. The dragon’s habit of wrapping himself around the small building would be an inconvenient obstacle.
Clenching his teeth, the limbit was ready to admit defeat and return to his couch, though he was certain sleep would evade him for the rest of the night. As he made to leap off the table, however, a strong desire to get outside overwhelmed him, making him sway where he stood. For some reason or another, he had to leave the cabin. Turning back around, he contemplated his options. He could try to jump over Jaax’s tail, but he would have to leap up and out, and even then he might not clear the dragon. Waking Jaax could not happen. That would mean almost certain death. Fighting back his frustration, Dervit stuck his head out the window and swiveled it from side to side. It was very dark, but he could see well enough. The limbit placed his hand on the window frame, the cold, rough stone nipping at his fingertips.
With one last glance at Jahrra’s sleeping form, Dervit climbed onto the window sill. The outside ledge was just wide enough for him to stand on without teetering. With the utmost care, he pulled the window shut behind him, wincing when the latch clicked into place. With a great show of patience on his part, he moved sideways across the wall, feeling for foot and hand holds between the logs and freezing anytime the dragon below him took a deep breath. Finally, after what felt like hours, Dervit reached the point where he could jump free of Jaax’s tail.
He waited for several breaths before taking the leap, landing in a small patch of snow that helped slow his forward momentum. To his horror, the great dragon chose that moment to grumble in his sleep, and although his head was resting by the door around the curve of the wall, Dervit bolted. He did not want to be anywhere near the building if Jaax should wake up.
The limbit sprinted toward the snow-covered field and patch of trees at the end of the road, staying close to the other cabins so he’d remain hidden from spying eyes. It felt wonderful to be out in the frosty night air, and the exhilaration seemed to ease his worried thoughts. Perhaps this was all he needed. A nice jog in the fresh mountain air to banish his fears.
He’d forgotten his jacket in the cabin, but fortunately, Dervit’s thick fox fur kept him warm. Well, at least his lower half and his arms. He had no idea where he was headed, but as the road came to an end, he turned toward another copse of trees, their thick needles laden with days old snowfall. The limbit slowed his pace to a walk, his feet crunching lightly against the old snow. The dark trees spread out about a quarter mile ahead of him, creating a forest of deep shadows beneath the equally black night. To his left, more cabins and buildings huddled together, some of them leaking light. Clearly, he wasn’t the only soul in Cahrdyarein unable to sleep.
On his right, the land gently sloped downward, and he knew that a mile or so away sat the great wall, the black fence of stone keeping their enemies out. Dervit stopped and glared off into the distance. Or was it? He couldn’t see the wall from here, but he could feel its presence, almost as much as he could feel the evil intent pressing on his soul. Could a small handful of the Crimson King’s men sneak in if even a single traitor from within showed them the way? Surely Pendric’s highly trained soldiers would notice something.
Dervit pushed those thoughts away. He didn’t have the answers, and continually thinking about them would only make his head spin and his fear intensify. He was about to start walking again when a cold dread suddenly poured over his body, like a pocket of winter air descending upon a warm summer day. All the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and his tail swished back and forth in agitation. He didn’t have to look down at it to know it was as full as a bottle brush.
A shadow moved across the white snow several feet ahead, not making a sound. Whoever it was had come from the direction of the wall, and was headed straight for the houses and buildings on the other side of the woods.
The limbit dove behind the nearest tree and pressed himself against the rough, damp bark. This shadow could be just another restless soul out for a midnight stroll, but that icy dread forcing all his senses on high alert told him otherwise. It was the same feeling he’d experienced when trying to talk Jahrra out of meeting Keiron at the Round.
A slight noise, the soft crunch of boots in the deep snow, forced his ears to flick forward. The shadow was drawing nearer. A feral snarl began in the depths of Dervit’s throat, but he fought it back. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to himself. Instead, he risked a glance and relaxed when the cloaked stranger continued on his path toward the city’s edge.
Dervit let out a quiet sigh of relief, ready to head back to the cabin where he would be safe, but something stopped him. His eyes were still fastened on the nighttime traveler and something about the way he moved, his gait or how he held himself, sparked a hint of familiarity. Again, that dread pooled in his stomach, but instead of telling him to run, it encouraged him to follow.
Before he could talk himself out of it, and despite the heart-pounding fear flooding his veins, Dervit peeled away from the tree and using his animal senses, trailed after the hooded figure, staying as far behind him as possible.
The man stuck to the shadows, creeping along as if he, too, wished not to be seen. Dervit took this to heart and fell back even farther, staying low to the ground and keeping his steps light.
The cloaked stranger didn’t travel too far before he came upon a three story building crammed between a few shops and houses. Raucous laughter flowed from the place, as well as the pungent scent of ale and sweat. A tavern.
As Dervit watched from the edge of the woods behind the row of buildings, the man opened a door in the rear of the tavern. Before stepping inside, he whipped his head around, checking, Dervit assumed, for anyone who might have followed him. The limbit remained still, knowing he was entirely hidden in shadow.