CHAPTER 32:
The second night after the messenger left settled heavy and still over the camp. The air hung thick and unmoving, no wind to stir the branches or carry the scent of pine, so quiet the crackle of the fires seemed too loud, every voice dropped to a whisper. I walked the perimeter with Kael, our steps matching, our senses stretched thin, searching for something wrong, something out of place. The sentries stood at every post, alert and watchful, but even they shifted restlessly, glancing over their shoulders, their eyes darting to the dark spaces between the trees.
“It is too quiet,” Kael said, his voice low, barely more than breath. “Too still. Like the whole world is holding its breath.”
“They want us unsettled,” I said, running a hand along the rough bark of an old oak. “They
