They broke camp early, leaving the ruined watchtower before the sun rose.
Mist clung low to the ground, winding around the horses' legs like curious fingers. The path narrowed further, and the trees grew stranger, tall and thin, with pale bark that felt too smooth to be natural.
The forest was too quiet. Only the sound of hooves on soft, wet dirt and the occasional creak of saddle leather.
Lyra rode beside Kaal, tense.
The guards were nervous.
The birds were gone.
And Lyra kept one hand near her blade the entire morning.
"I don't like this," she said, riding beside Kaal.
"Because the air tastes like copper?" he asked, his voice flat.
"Because nothing's try to kill us yet. That never lasts long."
Kaal looked at her. "You have a very specific sense of normal."
"I'm a very specific kind of person and... I probably just jinxed it."
The trail dipped, narrowing into a fog-heavy gorge. One guard moved ahead to scout, disappearing around a bend in the path.
He didn't return.
Lyra swung off her horse before Kaal could speak. "Get off. Now."
She steadied him without ceremony, her hand brushing his wrist.
His skin startled her.
Cool. Silky-soft. Lighter than it had any right to be for someone who looked like death.
She let go quickly. "You're glowing again."
He glanced down. A faint silver shimmer traced the veins of his hands. He clenched his fists. It faded.
"Fantastic," she muttered. "You light up when stressed. Very stealthy."
She crouched low, scanning the mist. The silence was sharp...too complete. Even the wind had stopped.
A scream tore through the mist.
Not human.
"Wait here," the second guard muttered, drawing his sword. "Could be wolves."
"Wolves don't sound like that," Lyra said, already pulling Kaal back toward the wall. "Stay behind me. Stay down."
The mist writhed and something emerged from it.
Tall. Thin. Wrong.
Its joints bent too far. Its mouth opened sidewise. No sound as it moved just the slither of limbs over stone.
Lyra didn't speak.
The creature yanked the guard and tore him in half.
She drew her blades.
The first strike was fast, almost too fast. She ducked, rolled, slashed. Steel met flesh, or something like it. A spray of black blood hissed into the air.
Another one rose from the fog.
She moved on instinct now, silent, efficient. One blade arced up through a twisted arm. The creature shrieked.
A third appeared.
She pivoted, using one corpse as a shield. The second came too fast. Claws raked her arm. Pain bloomed hot.
She didn't stop.
Two of them came at once. Her shoulder burned. Her vision blurred. She stabbed low, fast, precise.
One collapsed.
Only one left.
It lunged at Kaal.
She let it.
Then drove her dagger straight into its throat.
The silence that followed was louder than the fight.
She stood panting, dripping blood and whatever passed for it in the creatures.
The creatures hissed into vapor. Dissolving. No bodies. Just rot-slick stone, her torn sleeve and the heavy weight in her limbs.
She turned.
Kaal was against the wall where she'd left him, eyes unreadable. He didn't move. Didn't speak.
She staggered past him, sat down hard against the rock, and began cleaning her blade.
"Are you hurt?" he asked finally, tone neutral.
She wiped at the blood on her neck. "I'll live."
He looked at the fading mist. "What were they?"
"Not local," she said, voice flat.
"But then again I'm not a beast tamer"
She stared out into the mist, her breath still ragged.
The mountains were changing.
And so was everything else.