The horns came again at dawn, nearer this time, raw and ragged, tearing through the forest’s damp silence.
Kaelen froze mid-step, his breath fogging before him. The company halted as one, eyes wide and hollow. The mist seemed to shudder with the sound, carrying it from every direction.
“Too close,” Roran muttered. He drew his sword, wincing at the motion. “They’ve got hounds.”
The baying started then, distant but relentless. A low, thunderous rhythm beneath the trees, echoing off trunks and stones.
Kaelen felt it in his bones. They weren’t far.
“Run,” he said.
The word tore through the company like a spark through dry grass. They broke into motion, stumbling, cursing, breath ragged. Armor clattered, boots slipped in the mud, wounded cried out but did not stop. The forest closed aroun
