Chapter 8
Hooves thundered down the dirt path at the edge of the forest. A ripple passed over the druids: they would have news of the elders.
“They look frightened,” Fenrys said, sniffing the air.
“And none of the elders have returned with them,” Ingrid added. She swept back her long blonde hair, a nervous habit. Her eyebrows contracted as she stared at the rangers.
Genevieve bit her lower lip. It was time for her to meet Mariellen for training, but there would be too many distractions as the rangers delivered their news. They could take their daily trip into the forest after they’d left.
She walked away from her friends and searched for Mariellen’s hickory braids amid the huddles of whispering druids around the conclave. Her teacher was there, at the edge of their village, with Sheff
