The northern path was unlike anything Luna had seen before.
The big trees here were taller than spires, brittle with frost, and their trunks carved with symbols that glowed faintly even in daylight. The further they hiked, the more twisted the landscape became—rocks rising in spirals, rivers that flowed silently over ice.
It didn’t feel abandoned.
It felt… watched.
“Anyone else feel like we’re being stalked by the concept of anxiety?” Saffy muttered as she tiptoed over a suspiciously steaming patch of snow.
Knox’s eyes scanned the forest. “There are no footprints. But there’s movement.” He drew his dagger and added grimly, “Too much silence means something’s hunting.”
“Great,” Saffy whispered. “I was just saying last week how I’d love to be hunted in a frozen forest while carrying a
