Hadjar gritted his teeth.
“Why should I trust you?”
“Because you have no other choice, Wind of the Northern Valleys,” the figure said without moving. “And don’t worry about my servants.”
The figure waved their hand, and the creatures that had been skulking along the edge of the clearing a moment ago vanished. It was as if they had never been there in the first place. Only the trampled grass and the melted areas where poison had dripped from their spikes indicated that what had just happened hadn’t been a figment of his imagination.
“Leave them out here,” the figure added in that same, almost mechanical tone. “The night is kind tonight. Let them breathe in the fresh, crisp air. These could be their last breaths.”
With that, the figure disappeared through the door of the small house. Ha
