He climbed down the log pile and, hiding in the shadows, stalked from tree to tree, keeping an eye out for the monster in case it reappeared. He made his way back to the campsite. The fire had thankfully burned out, cloaking his friends in darkness.
“Val,” he whispered, shaking her shoulder. “Wake up, Val.”
Swatting at his hand, she rolled over. “Is it morning?”
“Keep your voice down. Marac’s gone.”
“I am?” Marac asked.
Turning around, Laedron said, “Where were you?”
“Scouting the perimeter of the campsite. What else would I do?”
“What side?”
Marac pointed over his shoulder in the opposite direction Laedron had gone. “I found some tracks that way, followed them for a bit, then came back. They look like footprints, but I couldn’t tell for sure.”
“Did you see it?” Laedron tried to hide his fear, but he didn’t think he did a very good job of it.
“See what?”
“The monster.”
“Oh, I knew it. I just knew it.” Brice, seated on his bedroll, rocked forward with his arms wrapped around his knees, and his voice took on a higher pitch. “What are we going to do? Creatures of the night!”
“Keep your damned voice low if you want to survive this.”
“What did you see, Lae? What exactly?” Valyrie asked.
“A creature made of crystal, like huge emeralds fused together.” He turned to Brice. “It killed that pack of wolves you were worried about. Well, it murdered one and chased the rest into the forest.”
Brice quivered with fear. “We’ve got to get out of these woods. I knew we were wrong to come here.”
“Not until we find the answers we seek.” Laedron sighed. “We’ve come too far to turn back now.”
“And risk our lives? We should cut our losses and go, if you ask me.”
“Well, nobody did!” Laedron, afraid that raising his voice had drawn the attention of someone… or something, ducked and scanned the trees. “It didn’t see me while I watched it. We should be fine as long as we keep quiet and hidden. We keep low, move under cover of shadow, and speak no louder than a whisper.”
Clenching his eyes shut, Brice breathed and exhaled slowly. “Right. Yes.”
Valyrie stood and took her bow in hand. She slung the quiver across her back and stared at Marac. “Did the tracks you found lead anywhere in particular?”
“No. Unless they make a sudden turn, they go to the west of the ruins.”
Brice peered into the darkness. “I’ll need to get a look of those tracks.”
Laedron crossed his arms. “For what? What could you possibly do about them?”
“To see what I can figure out and to see where they go.”
“So you’re a tracker now? When did this happen?”
Brice glared at Laedron. “The instructors in Westmarch thought we’d need to know a little more than sword fighting and how to wear armor. On top of that, Caleb taught me a number of things about being a sneakthief, Lae. A little about picking pockets, a bit of picking locks, and even a few things of traps and tracks. While you spent your time in the militia, I spent my time honing my skills.”
“Just do it,” Valyrie said, pressing her hand against Laedron’s shoulder. “Now’s not the time to argue. Maybe he can find something of use.”
Nodding, Marac led them to the spot where he’d found the tracks.
Brice crept along parallel to the marks. After studying the grass and brush for a while, he picked up something small. “A thread of string.”
“Did you go this far, Marac?” Laedron asked, moving closer to see.
“No, I stopped back there, near the horses.” Marac crouched next to Brice. “I doubt it’s one of ours.”
“Impossible to tell, but it’s out of place here in the middle of a field.” Brice eyed the brush leading away from the camp. “We’d better pack up our belongings before going any farther. We can’t afford to get lost without our supplies or our horses.”
They returned to the camp, bundled up their sleeping packs and possessions, then put their gear back on their horses. Afterward, Laedron followed Brice back to the suspicious patch of grass.
“You see how the weeds lay like this?” Brice gestured with the palm of his hand, motioning toward the trees. “It tends to be pressed in the direction someone walks. Follow them in that direction, and you should be able to find more tracks.” Crouching, Brice waddled toward the tree line. “Like this one.”
“You think that it was a someone and not a something?” Marac asked.
“Difficult to tell by these. I’ll have to see a few more; these don’t have the best definition.”
Laedron looked at the track, then turned to see the presumed path. “Down that way?”
Brice nodded. “Should be easy to follow. Weeds and pine straw are easily displaced when you walk through them, so we can go for a while to see where this path leads. It looks like whoever made them didn’t care if he-or she, or it-disturbed the ground.”
Bending down beside Brice, Marac squinted at the ground. “Any ideas yet as to what made them?”
“I’m leaning toward a human.”
“And you’re sure they’re human tracks? Animals couldn’t make tracks like these?”
“They’re fresh, and we haven’t seen anything big enough to make prints this size pass through here. A man, on the other hand… plenty big enough.”
“What about recent enough? We have no proof that anyone other than the four of us are out here.” The image of the crystal beast flashing through his mind, Laedron asked, “Could it be anything other than a man? Something bigger maybe?”
“Possibly, but few tracks in nature could be mistaken for a human, especially when you have a print with this distinct shape.” Brice drew the outline of the track with his finger.
“We have nothing else to go on, Lae.” Valyrie nocked an arrow. “We must, for now, assume that it’s a man and follow.”
“Keep the horses back a ways so they don’t destroy any tracks we may yet need.” Laedron took his rod in hand and hoped that it would work if needed. “Lead the way, Brice. And keep an eye out for… well, anything.”
* * *
“We’ve been walking for nearly an hour,” Laedron whispered, stopping when Brice crouched again.
“I never said it’d be a quick process,” Brice said, sorting through some pine straw. “Besides, what better things have you to do? At least we’re making progress. Here, he made a turn.” Looking up, Brice pointed. “Between those two… Creator! Those trees are huge.”
“The forest has many of them, it would seem. Ancient trees shooting up into the heavens.” The haze of the dawn filtered through the pines. Laedron followed the tree’s trunk with his eyes, but the canopy above made it impossible to see the top. “They’ve been here since before the city was built, if I had to guess.”
Brice jogged ahead, and every once in a while, he glanced at the ground. Reaching the two trees, he put his hand on one of them. “He-she, whoever-walked through here and stopped just past them.”
“Just say ‘he’ for now, Thimble; your stuttering is getting on my nerves. We’ll know for sure if we ever find him,” Marac said.
Stepping between the mighty trunks, both as thick as the one he’d seen near their camp, Laedron figured that the trees were significant because they stood at the entrance of what seemed to have been a huge structure. The ruins of a temple, perhaps? The High King’s palace? It was clearly a spectacle to behold, whatever it was. “Where from here, Brice?”
Brice searched the ground. “Wait.” Squinting, he crouched and pointed at several disturbed patches of brush.
“What is it?”
“Two sets… and drag marks.” He gestured to their right. “Someone dragged something that way. These tracks are much bigger, though. A bear?”
Laedron took a deep breath. “It could be that monster. Any blood?”
“No. Wait. Yes, here.” Holding up some pine needles, Brice twisted them between his fingertips. “A few drops. Look.”