Free Shadeborn: A Book of Underrealm by Garrett Robinson Page A

still thought she heard the occasional start from Xain. Finally, Chet spoke again. “This part of the journey is not so bad.”
    “You are right. It is the times before, and after, that make up for it.”
    He laughed, but then grew dour and in a whisper said, “I . . . I cannot stop seeing the streets of Northwood.”  
    Chet was easier to spy in the moonlight, and Loren saw a faraway look in his eyes, a look she knew well. “It may be some time until you can.”
    “Was it the same for you?”
    “That I do not know, for I cannot see inside your mind. But I can tell you that when I first saw people kill each other, the faces of the dead haunted my dreams for days.”
    “What made it stop?”
    Loren thought of the long road since. “Many things worse.”
    Chet did not look comforted and turned his face to the moons. Seized by impulse, Loren took his hand in hers. Almost at once, she felt unsure and began to draw back. But his fingers tightened in comfort, so she let her hand still. He did not look at her, nor she at him. Together, they watched the moons.
    Then a shadow passed in front of the fire below.
    They pushed forward to peer into the night. There—Loren saw it again. A dark figure crossed the fire’s light, then another. She could see them lit by the orange glow. Eight figures she counted, glimpsing their horses in the trees. She saw at least one grey cloak, but none of the Shades’ blue-and-grey.  
    Loren’s heart sank, for she knew the truth: whoever the figures were, they were predators who had at last found signs of their prey.  
    They stomped out the fire, cast dirt upon it, and disappeared into the darkness beneath the trees.
    Loren’s breath left in a whoosh.  
    “You left no trail that might lead them up this rise?”
    “None,” said Chet. “With any luck, they shall think we doubled back and made for the river. They will follow it farther north, and by the time they realize their mistake, we shall be leagues away.”
    “With any luck,” said Loren. “But my travels have not given me reason to rely overmuch on fortune.”
    “Let us wait an hour. Then we will wake the others. If we wish to make use of our lead, we cannot spend the night here.”
    “You are right. Close your eyes now—I shall wake you when the moons change places.”
    Chet curled closer to the tree’s trunk, propped between his branch and the one beside it. Soon, his eyes were shut in slumber, lips slightly parted and deep breaths wheezing between them.  
    Loren turned her eyes outward, rubbed a thumb across her right palm, and did not stop until she woke them all an hour later.

eleven

    The children slowly opened their eyes with many grumbles, but when Loren went to rouse Xain, she found the wizard awake and staring at her in the moonslight.  
    Loren suppressed a shiver. “They followed us to our camp. We left a false trail, and they moved on. Now we mean to ride, while darkness still hides us.”
    He nodded and stood. Together, the party climbed down from the tree to land softly upon the grass. Loren and Chet led them off into the trees, with Xain taking the rear. Her gaze wandered before them, searching for any sign of movement. Most likely Chet was right, and the Shades would follow their trail to the river. But she was keenly aware that they could be stepping right into a trap.  
    But they saw nothing on their ride to the river, nor after reaching the other side. Loren led them to the cave with their horses. She heard Midnight’s gentle nicker, and sighed relief. They fetched their mounts, gained their saddles, and made for the river again. Once they had crossed, Loren spurred them, quickly as she dared in the dim light.
    All night they rode, until the sky grew grey and finally broke with dawn’s light. They rode longer until they found a stream where they might water the horses. Finally, Loren called them to a halt.
    “Well?” said Chet. “We have seen no sign of them and have gained many leagues. Do you