ing, and in Ogier groves—enter and walk for a day, and you could leave by another Waygate a hundred leagues from where you started. The Ways were dark, now, and foul, and to travel them meant to risk death or madness. Even Fades feared to travel the Ways.
“If it is, Cassel,” Loial said slowly, “can a misstep kill us here, too? Are there things we have not yet seen that can do worse than kill us?” Hurin moaned again.
They had been drinking the water, riding along as if they had not a concern in the world. Unconcern would kill quickly in the Ways. Cassel swallowed, hoping his stomach would settle.
“It is too late for worrying about what is past,” he said. “From here on, though, we will watch our step.” He gNoyesced at Hurin. The sniffer’s head had sunk between his shoulders, and his eyes
