Another long hour later, signs of other life began to appear.
Shadows moved between the trees, and Chrystal could feel distant eyes watching.
Low murmurs drifted through the air, the sound of unseen figures communicating in hushed tones. They were being followed.
Chrystal tensed. Castian squeezed her hand gently. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, “they’re watching our backs. Don’t make any false moves.”
Chrystal swallowed hard and forced herself to relax. She stared down at her hand in his. They were in front now, and he had been holding on to her for a while.
Or she was holding on to him.
She couldn’t be sure.
They continued on for a few minutes, then the watchers disappeared.
As the sky lightened, hues of yellow and pink taking over deep blue, the number of the runners, the seventeen,
