They sat in a shady patch of grass to one side of the path, leaning against the fallen tree. Erin stretched her left leg out in front of her and pulled up her right knee so that she could rest her arms and head on it. She was starting to become very aware of the fact that she had missed a night’s sleep and had done quite a lot of walking in its place, not to mention having a long and tiring day before that. Whatever Wraith had done to her before he had left had compensated somewhat, but she still longed to flop down on her bed back at Kirchel’s house and sleep for ten or twelve hours.

“Here,” she heard Arturyn say beside her. “Take this. It might help you feel better.”

Erin looked up to see him holding out what looked like a small loaf of bread. There were green specks mixed into the crust that looked like they might be some kind of herb. She took it, and he reached into his pouch and pulled out a second one. He put that one down on his lap and then, to Erin’s amazement, proceeded to remove a bottle of pale blue liquid and two metal cups.

“How on earth did you fit all those into that little bag?” she asked, staring at the bottle.

Arturyn chuckled. “Well...it’s bigger than it looks.” He put the cups down on the ground between them and poured some of the blue liquid into each of them. Then he picked one up and handed it to Erin. “That’s called ‘lonom.’ It’s made from flower nectar, and it’s very good on hot afternoons.”

“Thank you.”

Erin took the cup and sniffed at the blue liquid inside. She thought it smelled rather like the air on a rainy day. She took a sip and found it tasted almost exactly like water, except that it was slightly sweeter. It was remarkably cold considering that it had just come from Arturyn’s bag. It also seemed to somehow be much wetter than water usually was. She didn’t understand how anything could be wetter than water, but it seemed wonderfully refreshing after being hot and sweaty for the last hour, so she drank it gratefully, without trying to contemplate its odd characteristics.

The bread was good, too. The closest thing Erin could compare it to was the garlic parmesan breadsticks her mother sometimes made when they had spaghetti, though the seasoning wasn’t quite garlic and the cheese-like layer in the middle wasn’t quite parmesan.

After they had eaten and Erin’s knee had received another cold treatment from Arturyn, they set out along the rough path again.

“You are sure this trail leads somewhere, aren’t you?” Erin asked. “I mean, it’s a lot better than climbing through bushes all the time, but how do you know this will get us to the village?”

“I don’t,” Arturyn said evenly. “But the presence of a path suggests the presence of people. And it’s been taking us in the right direction overall. Even if it doesn’t lead directly to the village, I think it will pass close enough that we'll be able to find it. And, as you say, it is easier than cutting straight through the forest.”

He was right. After perhaps another half an hour, they emerged from the trees to find themselves on the edge of a rise that sloped down beneath them to meet with a grassy plain that stretched out for miles ahead. A river curved through the center of the plain, running from north to south. Nestled in a bend of the river was a cluster of buildings surrounded on all sides by cultivated fields and outlying homes.

“Is that Celadrier?” Erin asked, putting a hand over her eyes to block out the sun so she could look over the little village.

“It must be. The next village is another six or seven miles away. Shall we go down?”

Arturyn took a few steps forward, heading down the slope, but Erin was still gazing down at the houses and fields, her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Why aren’t there any people down there? Shouldn’t the farmers be out working in the fields? Or do they do all the weeding and irrigating by magic or something?” She was remembering Kirchel’s perfect rows of herbs.

“They probably do some of that,” Arturyn said, stopping and turning back to look at her. “It’s uncommon to find highly trained mages in villages like this, but most of the people have some practical magic skills. And it’s not harvest season yet. Between those two, the farmers won’t be needing to spend too much time in the fields right now.”

It sounded reasonable enough, but Erin couldn’t shake the vague feeling of unease that rose inside her as they walked toward the village. It was silly, she supposed. Arturyn was obviously much more familiar with the local customs than she was. If he wasn’t worried by not seeing people out of their houses, she shouldn’t be either.

But even though she kept repeating that to herself as they walked, when they started to pass the outer farmhouses with still no sign of people or animals, the feeling became stronger. They were drawing near a house just on the outskirts of the village when Erin stopped walking, staring at the front of the house, which had just come into view. The door was hanging open, and the entire house had a deserted, hollow look about it.

“Arturyn,” Erin said in a low voice. “I think…I think something’s wrong.”

She turned to look at him, expecting—hoping—that he would dismiss her worries with some logical explanation. But he only nodded, looking grave.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “Something is very wrong here. The smell of death is in the air.”

Erin swallowed hard. She couldn’t smell anything, but she didn’t even think to question him.

“What is it?” she asked him, her voice slightly higher than normal. “What happened to these people?”

Arturyn shook his head. “I don’t know.” He looked up the dirt road to the village. “Come. We may be able to find some survivors, to be of some help.”

He turned away from the empty farmhouse and started toward the village again.

With some reluctance, Erin followed him. Her first choice would have been to hightail it back to the forest. But she could tell that Arturyn felt a duty to try to help the people of the village if at all possible. He was, she decided as she walked along behind him, a very noble sort of person. The sort of person who would always be trying to do the right thing—even if it meant risking his own neck.

Which she sincerely hoped was not the case in this particular situation….

They had left the fields surrounding the village now and were moving through the houses inside the village itself. The houses were made mainly of wood and most of them looked tidy and comfortable. They were arranged in neat rows, with narrow paths between them, so that each house stood slightly apart from its neighbors. Each had its own yard surrounded, in most cases, by a low wooden fence. These yards were home to a range of things—from small sheds to vegetable and flower gardens.

But there was still no sign of people or animals. There was no sound except for the wind rustling the plants and creaking the boards of the houses. Erin felt a cold prickle of fear creeping over her skin, even though there was nothing obviously dangerous about the silent houses around them.

She thought she could smell it now—a sickening, slightly sweet scent that lingered in the air and made her insides feel like they were twisting into knots. She trailed close behind Arturyn, glancing all around her for signs of movement and jumping at the small noises that the wind made. He, too, was looking all around as they walked slowly towards the center of the village, his expression grim and calculating.

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It was Erin who saw them first.

She had moved slightly ahead of Arturyn, who had paused and was looking around the yards of the two houses they were passing between. Erin edged forward and peered around the corner of the nearest house. It faced a broad stone street that seemed to run through the center of the town. The street ended a short distance away at the entrance to a larger building that looked like it might have housed the local government. It was more formal-looking than the rest of the buildings, even though it now had the same empty feel about it that the others did.

Erin turned to look in the other direction and saw what looked like a tiny marketplace and village square some distance away. Looking closer, she could see figures standing in the square—about a dozen of them. They were unmoving and formed a circle in the very center of the open space.

“Arturyn!” Erin said, her voice low and urgent.

He came quickly over to her, giving her a questioning look. In answer, she pointed down the road towards the still and silent figures. Arturyn stepped out from between the houses and gazed intently at the distant shapes, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Are those...people?” Erin asked after a long moment of silence.

“Yes, I think so,” Arturyn replied slowly.

“Why are they standing there like that? Why aren’t they moving?”

“I don’t know.”

They were both speaking just above a whisper, although Erin wasn’t consciously aware of any reason why they should be. There was no one close enough to hear them even if they spoke normally.

But she somehow felt—and she suspected Arturyn did as well—that the very air in this place was watching and listening to them.

“Could it be…some kind of…I don’t know…an enchantment, maybe?” Erin ventured after a pause.

“That’s...possible, I suppose.” Arturyn moved out into the road, not taking his eyes off the distant figures. He beckoned to Erin. “Stay close to me.”

She didn’t need to be told. She stayed no more than a step behind him as they made their way up the silent street.

As they got closer to the center of the town, small shops and stalls began to appear. Erin eyed them nervously. Many of the stalls had items that were askew or scattered on the ground around them, as though their owners had left in a great hurry. And they all seemed far too full of shadows and unseen corners.

They passed a large stall that had a bright red awning and wooden bins full of vegetables that couldn’t have been more than a day old. One of the bins had been knocked over, sending what looked like blue cabbage heads rolling into the street. Erin stared at them. Then she jumped as Arturyn suddenly halted and held his arm out in front of her.

“What?” Her voice came out in a squeak.

He didn’t reply, so she turned to look in front of them, following his gaze. She had been so distracted by the abandoned market stalls that she had almost forgotten their goal, the town square. They were still a hundred feet or so away, but it was close enough to see most of the square and to start to make out the details of the people standing around it.

“What are...? Why...?” Erin blinked dumbly at the scene in front of her as her brain scrambled to put together a reasonable explanation for what she was seeing. “Those...those are...like...dummies or something...right? I mean, they can’t really be.... Not really...real....”

She looked desperately back at Arturyn, searching for reassurance.

She didn’t find it. He still didn’t speak, but his ashen face was answer enough.

The men standing in the circle weren’t moving because they were all dead. And they were only standing at all because each of them had been stuck through with a pole that had then been driven into the ground. They sagged grotesquely, like limp puppets on sticks. Blood had dripped down their bodies, soaking through their clothing, to form dark red circles beneath their feet. The heads drooped down or lolled to one side, and many of the eyes were still open and staring blankly ahead of them.

Erin was fairly sure that she was about to faint. Her vision tilted strangely, and it felt like someone was pumping ice water into her veins. She took a staggering step closer to Arturyn, putting a shaking hand on his still-outstretched arm to steady herself.

The touch seemed to bring him out of his shock, and he turned toward her, reaching out to take firm hold of her shoulders.

“Erin.” His face was still pale, but his voice was controlled. “Breathe. Get a hold of yourself.”

She could barely hear him. Her pulse was beating loudly in her ears, and her breathing came fast and ragged.

Arturyn gave her a small shake. “Erin, please. You have to listen to me. This place is very dangerous. We might be able to get out of here safely, but you’ll have to do exactly as I tell you.”

With some difficulty, she slowed her breathing and forced herself to focus on Arturyn’s words. She could still feel herself trembling, but she swallowed hard and nodded.

“The closest way to the river is directly along this street. There’s a bridge at the end—can you see it?”

Reluctantly, she looked toward the square again, trying to look past the men in the circle without looking at them. She glimpsed a stone bridge beyond the furthest houses and turned quickly back to Arturyn, nodding again.

“Now, when I give the word, I need you to run as fast as you can straight across the square…. Don’t be silly, girl, they’re only corpses—they can’t hurt you!” he added fiercely as she shuddered. “…straight across the square and up the road toward the river. Get in the water and move as far away from the bank and the bridge as you can. Don’t look back and don’t stop running until you’re in the water. Do you understand?”

Erin nodded once more.

“All right, then run!”

She ran. Into the square and through the circle of bodies. She felt a spasm of horror as she brushed against the arm of one on the far side but didn’t stop running. She could hear Arturyn’s footsteps just behind her.

And then suddenly there were other footsteps—dozens of others. The air was filled with shrieks and shouts that were in a language she didn’t understand, or perhaps in no language at all. Fighting the urge to look behind her, Erin pushed herself to go faster, ignoring the stabbing pain in her left knee.

She was nearly to the outer row of houses.

“Keep going!” she heard Arturyn shout behind her.

Now she could hear crashes and screams of pain behind her. She stumbled slightly as the dirt road gave way to long grass under her feet but didn’t stop and didn’t look back.

She was almost to the bridge.

Glancing up, panting, Erin saw several large, dark figures coming toward her across the bridge. Without pausing to see who or what they were, she veered to the right, heading straight for the river.

The shouts around her were growing louder. But she was close now—very close.

She had just reached the edge of the bank and was about to jump in when what felt like a set of claws clenched around her arm and whipped her backwards, so that she was pulled off her feet and into the air for a split second before landing hard on the ground.

Struggling to break free of the painful grip on her arm, she saw that the creature that had hold of her was vaguely human-shaped but was bulky and disfigured, with dark, brownish-grey skin. He was wearing a tunic and short pants that looked like they were made of leather and had small, shriveled-looking ears and a wide, bony face.

She fought and kicked against his hold, but he shoved her back down to the ground and shouted in a harsh, guttural language at one of his fellows, who came over to help hold her down.

There was a flash of blue light, and the two creatures were thrown off her. They flew into the air and landed in the river, where they began to writhe and scream as though in pain.

Scrambling to her feet, Erin saw Arturyn hurling more streaks of blue fire at the swarm of brownish creatures around him, a number of whom had fallen to the ground and seemed to be wounded or dead.

She turned to head back toward the water but found her way was now blocked by half a dozen of the creatures. They had apparently come up while she was fighting with the first two.

She backed slowly away as they moved towards her, jagged yellow teeth bared in menacing grins. But she was completely surrounded by them now—there was nowhere for her to go.

In a panic, she dashed to one side, hoping to break through the line, but two of the creatures caught her and held her tightly. A third, larger creature came up to them. He seemed to be laughing at her. He made several bark-like sounds in his strange language, and the other creatures around her laughed as well.

With a yellow-toothed leer, the larger creature hit the side of Erin’s head sharply with a gnarled fist, sending her whirling into darkness….