The Map Beneath the Moon

EPISODE 2

THE GIRL WITH THE SILVER BLADE



Aren ran through the rain without looking back.

The village path was dark and muddy, and his boots slipped with every step. Behind him, something crashed through the walls of his grandmother’s house. A cold wind rushed past him, carrying a sound like a hundred voices whispering his name.

He tightened his grip on the silver map.

The symbols on its surface glowed beneath his fingers. One bright line stretched away from the village and into the forest. Aren had no idea where it led, but staying near the house was impossible.

A flash of lightning revealed the trees ahead.

The forest waited like a wall of black thorns.

Aren slowed at the edge. His grandmother had f*******n him from entering the forest after sunset. She had never explained why, but she always locked the back door before darkness fell.

Behind him, another crash echoed through the village.

Aren stepped beneath the trees.

The rain became quieter almost immediately. Thick branches covered the sky, and the darkness around him felt strangely alive. Roots curled across the path like sleeping snakes. Every few steps, Aren looked down at the map.

The glowing line continued forward.

Then the forest fell silent.

Aren stopped.

No rain. No insects. No wind.

Something moved among the trees.

He reached into the leather pouch and pulled out the silver dagger his grandmother had given him. Its blade shone faintly, though there was no light to reflect.

A low growl came from behind him.

Aren turned.

Two pale eyes stared from the darkness.

The creature from the house stepped between the trees. Its body was made of black smoke, but its long fingers were solid enough to bend the branches as it walked. Its face had no mouth, only two burning eyes.

Aren raised the dagger.

The creature tilted its head.

“You are not meant to carry the map,” it whispered.

Aren backed away. “Stay away from me.”

“You belong to the gate.”

The creature lunged.

A silver blade flashed through the darkness.

The creature shrieked as a girl dropped from a tree and struck its shoulder. She landed between Aren and the monster, one knee pressed into the wet earth.

She was about his age, perhaps seventeen, with dark hair tied behind her head. A narrow silver sword rested in her hand. A blue cloak hung from her shoulders, soaked by rain.

“Run,” she ordered.

Aren stared at her. “Who are you?”

The creature attacked again.

The girl twisted aside and swung her sword. Silver light burst from the blade, slicing through the creature’s smoky arm. It recoiled, screeching as black vapors spilled from the wound.

The girl glanced at Aren. “I said run.”

Aren turned and ran.

He heard the clash of steel behind him, followed by furious whispers. The glowing line on the map curved sharply to the left, leading him between two enormous trees.

Aren pushed through a curtain of hanging vines and nearly fell down a steep slope. He grabbed a branch and stopped himself. Below him was a narrow stream rushing over pale stones.

The girl landed beside him a moment later.

“You are terrible at following instructions,” she said.

Aren looked back. The creature was gone.

“Did you kill it?”

“No. Creatures like that do not die easily.”

“Then what was it?”

The girl wiped rain from her face. “A shadow hunter.”

“Why was it chasing me?”

Her eyes moved to the map in his hand.

“Because you have something it wants.”

Aren pulled the map close to his chest. “You know what this is?”

“I know enough.”

“Who sent you?”

“No one.”

“Why did you save me?”

The girl sheathed her sword. “Because if the shadow hunter finds you, the gate will open.”

Aren stared at her. “What gate?”

She looked toward the dark forest.

“The one beneath the moon.”

Aren felt the mark on his wrist burning again.

The girl noticed his expression. “Show me your arm.”

He stepped back. “Why?”

“Because I need to know whether I was right.”

Aren hesitated, then rolled up his sleeve.

The silver mark glowed brightly in the darkness.

The girl’s face changed.

For the first time, fear appeared in her eyes.

“You are him,” she whispered.

“Who am I?”

Before she could answer, a deep bell rang somewhere beneath the earth.

The ground shook.

Across the map, a new line appeared, leading toward the mountains.

The girl looked at Aren and tightened her grip on her sword.

“We have to move,” she said.

“Where?”

“To the hidden kingdom.”

Far behind them, the shadow hunter began to howl.

The girl started down the slope.

Aren followed, carrying the map, the dagger, and a question that frightened him more than the creature.

If she knew who he was, why did she look afraid?