THE FOREST'S SHADOWS grew long behind Adrian as he ran, branches reaching out to snag him, roots rising like hidden traps. He didn't dare look back, not even when he heard the distant barks of the hounds closing in, their senses now fixed on the fallen.
Thorne's blood would draw them in for now, keep them occupied, but Adrian knew the scent wouldn't hold them for long. They'd catch his trail again. And they'd hunt him down just the same.
Thorne's absence weighed heavily on his shoulders, though he now ran unencumbered, his grip tightening on the bag of gold slung across his back. Every ounce of it seemed to carry the memory of his friends, the weight of the sacrifices they'd made to get this far.
He would make it count.
With every thud of his boots, he forced the grief aside, made himself focus on the path ahead, on the faint promise of the cabin, barely a flicker in his mind but one he clung to like a lifeline.
His only hope was now Valtak's word. Safe, he'd said. If you can make it to the cabin, you'll be safe. Adrian's chest tightened with the absurdity of it, but he had nothing else left to believe in.
He was so caught up with running that he missed the branch curled on the ground beneath him, the snow hiding just how deep of a trap it was. It caught his feet, pulling him to a halting stop, the bag of gold an anchor that pulled him down like gravity.
He braced his fall with his palm, cutting it on a sharp thorn in the process, but his mind barely registered the pain. Thankfully, the bag was sealed shut and none of the precious loot spilled out.
He dusted off the snow from his jacket and continued running east, remembering Valtak's words again. "Run east from the keep, and you'll find the cabin."
Another mile, and the terrain changed, the trees grew twisted and dense, the moon hidden under clouds, the darkness thick and strange. Luckily for him, his eyes allowed him to see perfectly in the dark, or he would have been completely lost, and he would have missed it - the cabin.
Barely more than a silhouette in the dark, standing alone like something forgotten. Its wood was worn, with a sagging roof that looked ready to collapse. The sight filled him with a strange unease. Valtak hadn't mentioned how decrepit it was.
Adrian's instinct screamed at him to turn back. This place was nothing like he'd imagined. It didn't feel like safety. It felt like the end.
But the hounds were closer now, and he didn't have the luxury to hesitate. With a deep breath, he forced himself to the door, shoved it open, and stumbled inside, slamming it shut behind him.
The cabin looked... odd.
He blinked, taking in the dim, warm glow that seemed to pour from the walls themselves. The air was thick and stale, heavy with the scent of dust and something older, like damp earth.
The space was cluttered but strangely tidy, filled with rows of dusty books, items that could only be ancient artifacts, and cabinets crammed with glass jars that seemed to hold fragments of night sky, swirls of black and violet mist.
There was a small hearth in the corner, flames licking lazily at a log, casting an amber glow over a dark wooden table and a pair of chairs. In the corner, a small bed lay, layered with heavy blankets.
Everything seemed to be covered in a fine layer of dust, untouched for years, maybe even decades. If it wasn't for the books, artifacts and whatever was in those glasses, he would have mistaken it for a lovers nest.
The cabin was larger than it had seemed from the outside, impossibly so, like the space itself had warped to fit its contents. He could see doors that led elsewhere, and he wondered how those other rooms could ever fit into something so small.
Adrian fell to his knees on the cabin floor, the warmth seeping into his skin and drawing out a shiver he hadn't realized he was holding back. He let himself sink into the stillness, and pressed his fists to his eyes, willing himself not to cry, not now, not yet.
But the memories clawed their way in anyway. Jax's grin, Thorne's stubborn resilience, their laughter echoing in dark alleys, their arguments, the fierce, unbreakable bond they'd shared.
They had known he was different, both of them. Had enough reason to turn him over to the City Watch to be hanged, but they never did. All those years he thought he had done a good job at hiding just how different he was, but they had known.
And now, they were both gone.
Jax was caught, certain to pay for their crimes come morning, and Thorne was... Well, no one could hurt Thorne where he was anymore.
Adrian's breath hitched as he choked back a sob, anger and guilt mingling with the grief that clung to him like a second skin.
But he had no time to dwell; the sounds of the City Watch were closing in, their voices and hounds growing louder. Adrian froze, his heart racing as he listened to the footsteps. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could melt into the shadows.
Valtak's words echoed in his mind again: "If you can make it to the cabin, you'll be safe."
But how?
The walls here were paper-thin, the door practically begging to be broken down. Surely, the guards would see it, would know he'd come here to hide.
The voices came closer, and Adrian could barely breathe. He held his breath, pressing his back to the wall, hands clenching into fists. Closer. Closer still.
And then... they moved past.
The footsteps faded, the hounds' barking grew faint, as if the cabin were a ghostly shell that didn't register in their world. Adrian sat, stunned, as the silence settled once more.
He let out a long, shaky breath he'd been holding.
At least one thing went right tonight. I was certain Valtak told nothing but lies.
He stood up and shrugged off his jacket, leaving him shirtless. Then he reached into his pocket to retrieve the wooden figurine, the cursed piece of wood that had cost so much. It was small and unassuming, a carved figure of some unknown creature with hollow eyes, worn by age.
Adrian turned it over in his hands, studying its worn edges and strange markings. It looked harmless, but he'd seen men kill for less, and now it seemed more like a curse than anything valuable.
Why did we risk so much for this? What didn't Valtak tell us? He wondered.
He scowled, the frustration simmering into anger. He wanted to blame Valtak, wanted to hurl the figurine across the room and curse the twisted fate that had led him here. But he knew better. They had all known the risks. Jax and Thorne had chosen this, just as he had.
As Adrian's gaze sharpened on the figurine, a shiver ran down his spine, and he felt the magnetic pull again. There was something in its eyes, something cold and ancient, as if it were watching him right back.
He noticed his blood stained the wood as he flipped it around, and he tried to wipe it off on his shirt. But he watched in horror as his blood was absorbed into the wood, leaving no indication it had ever stained it's surface.
He held it away from him and studied it intently, wondering where his blood had gone.
"I see you made it here," a voice rasped from behind him, shattering the silence. "One of you, at least."