“You're there, aren't you?" Hundyr calls. “You followed me."
“What do we do?" Byrin hisses.
“Shh," Selmas says.
“Come out!" Hundyr yells, and his eyes move, so Selmas knows that he's not sure about where they are, not completely, anyway. He spins in a slow circle, gazing intently, as if that's enough to let him see through the dark. “Gwynfor! You and your freaks can reveal yourselves. I know you're there."
“We're not going to, right?" Byrin whispers.
“Of course not," Selmas gripes, but then, from across the circle, the corn shifts, as though rustling in the breeze.
Hundyr locks onto the movement. “Gwynfor."
Selmas hopes, wildly, that it isn't Gwynfor, that the motion is really just the wind, or an animal. Even that stupid dog from their village would be welcome at this point, but h
