The day of the hunt arrived at last. The participants gathered by a watchtower next to the lift from which Ben had originally entered the treetop village. He was wearing a dark gray Luparius outfit, the same as the rest of the hunters, made of a durable, leathery material. It was an old, spare set of Corin’s, which he was barely big enough to fill. Excitement bubbled within him, tinged with a hint of trepidation, as he stood among them in his oversized attire.

Speaking of which, Corin and Lunden were nowhere to be seen. Ben’s curiosity was piqued, as he thought about the mystery that was Lunden. He had seldom seen him during their stay in Machen, but to be fair his own training had also kept him occupied.

Ben's gaze fell to his open palms, fingers splayed in anticipation. Despite Ben’s growing confidence in his spellcasting, the uncertainty of its success loomed over him like a persistent shadow. It felt more like a toss of a coin at this point, and in the middle of combat against monsters in the pitch-black darkness of the forest, he could use more than a toss of a coin.

“They’re sure taking their time,” Ruffa said, mirroring Ben’s impatience. He snapped out of his ominous ruminations, thankful for the distraction.

Murley snorted beside her. “What’s the rush? The sun hasn’t even set yet.”

Humbert shaded his eyes with one hand and looked upward in that careful, measured way of his. “We have time, yes, but not much. I reckon we have about half an hour before we lose our head start. We should be leaving right about—”

“Now?” Lunden interrupted. He crossed the street and joined the retinue.

Humbert jumped, startled. Behind him came not only Corin, but Amycus as well. He turned around and sighed. “I wish you stopped showing up like that.”

“Like what?” Lunden asked with a wink and a broad grin. He turned his attention to the rest of the company and nodded curtly at them.

“Gentlemen, I apologize for the delay. We were hammering out some last-minute details with the elder regarding the hunt. As you can see, Amycus here will come along as our scout,” he waved at the centaur next to him, who stared at them stoically with arms crossed. “The centaurs’ knowledge of the Blackwoods is unmatched, and he can cover way more ground than we can within the same time span. He’ll keep to the vanguard and fall back if he finds a trail.”

“What about our roles?” asked Ruffa.

“They remain the same. The boy stays in the middle of our formation with Murley and me; Corin will mind the rear, while you and Humbert each take one side, respectively. If we get any lucky, we’ll be finding some wargs this very night. Any questions before we proceed with the plan?”

A deadly calm settled upon them. Silence. These were professionals who knew what they were doing, after all. Ben was bursting with questions, but kept a cool façade. He noticed Amycus gazing at him, and he could almost imagine a hint of approval on his lips.

“No time to waste, then! Let’s give this barghest hell.”

“Aye, aye!” Ben shouted along with the other Lupari, used by now to the customary response. Amycus gaited to the minotaur watchman from before, who stared at them from his station. Beside him, a crowd of spirits was gathering to see them depart—some happy about it, others worried.

Ben saw Amycus exchange some words with the minotaur. He strained his ears but could not discern what they said. The hubbub of Machen drowned out all the other noises. With a nod from the minotaur, Amycus turned gracefully and galloped back to the group.

“The lift is ready to operate. Gather ‘round, and we’ll make our descent. Ready yourselves.” Amycus said.

As if on cue, the lift gate swung open. It was a wooden beam carved with the ornate shapes of countless spirits. Ruffa cracked her fingers in relish and was the first to step in. Humbert and Murley followed, the former distracted in prayer and the latter seemingly unfazed. Then came Lunden and Corin together, father and son, and Amycus joined them last. Finally, as Ben made his way to join the group, he heard someone shout his name from afar.

“Master Umber!” came the shrill cry. Ben turned around toward the spirit crowd and noticed some commotion from within. Someone was making its way across the mass of idle spectators.

His small satyr friend emerged from the multitude, followed by the two flower-like spirits from the other day. His face brightened upon recognizing the old goat. “Briacco! Where have you been hiding?”

Briacco bowed theatrically. “My sincerest apologies for not visiting you sooner. I gathered from Master Colmain the Young that you were focused on your training, and I had... Ah, matters, to attend to,” he gestured at the two spirits beside him. “Master Umber, these are the piskies Montbretia and her daughter, Robin.”

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Montbretia’s delicate wings fluttered nervously, and she curtsied as Ben acknowledged them. “Master Umber, we’ve heard tales of the Lupari and their work. We come with a humble request,” she said, her voice heavy with sorrow.

Her daughter, Robin, who shared an uncanny resemblance with her, spoke next. Her eyes brimmed with tears, which she bravely fought back. “It's been days since my Da left and hasn't returned, and we can’t go into the forest too look for him, either… Please, get the barghest for the sake of Machen! For his sake”

The little piskie imitated Briacco’s theatrical bow from before. Ben’s gaze softened, and he nodded solemnly. He had no heart to tell them he was no Luparius. “We’ll do our best, and we won’t return until we get rid of this menace. You have my word.”

Montbretia and Robin thanked him profusely, and as the rest of the hunters entreated him to hurry, the spirits wished him good luck and farewell.

“Take care, Master Umber. Lunden and his crew are a seasoned lot. Do not act rashly, and you’ll make it back in one piece, eh?” Briacco offered.

After a swift exchange of thanks, Ben hurried to the lift, where the Lupari and Amycus stood poised and ready for the impending hunt. The gate creaked shut behind him as soon as he stepped in, sealing the group within the sturdy wooden platform.

As the giant elevator groaned its way back into the Blackwoods, Ben couldn’t shake the weight of the piskies’ pleas. There’s seven of us counting Amycus and only one target, Ben thought for reassurance. But no matter what he thought about, as the sun began to lower, a feeling of dread inevitably sunk into the pit of his stomach.

⦶⦶⦶

The forest enveloped them in a glum embrace. The trees became older and older the deeper they cut into the heart of the Blackwoods. They had been inside for an hour now, and each step took them closer into uncharted territory. Well, uncharted for the most part, Amycus had encouraged as they walked. It didn't work.

Ben felt the air grow denser, the duff underfoot thicker and harder to navigate, and the branches above hanging ever closer to them. Earlier, the forest had been teeming with wildlife, but now they walked amidst an eerie silence that sent shivers down his spine.

Lunden, who led the group along with Amycus, raised his hand and signaled them to stop. Ben exhaled and supported his hands on his knees, somewhat out of breath. The Lupari gathered around their leader, awaiting the expected orders.

“Hark, my hunters! Check your equipment and assume your positions. Remember, there are cautious men, and then there are dead men.”

Ruffa, the boldest of the group, was quick to check the various blades holstered in her gear. Some were meant to dice and slice; others were meant to gash and slash. She pulled her blade out of her scabbard. It was the one she had been polishing as he trained. Satisfied with its sharpness, she slid it back into its sheath.

Humbert and Amycus, archers both, drew their weapons, meticulously inspecting for cracks in the wood and ensuring that their bowstrings were firmly bound with a couple twangs.

Murley spun a heavy, two-handed axe around as if made of paper. Ben liked him the most out of all the Lupari. He couldn’t help but smile at the ease with which the old sorcerer carried his weapon. He’s not Lunden’s right-hand man for nothing, I suppose.

Lunden, their seasoned leader, supervised their preparations with a discerning and satisfied eye. Next to him, and unlike the others, Corin looked around with an absent-minded expression on his face. He carried no weapons at all, although that highspell of his could imitate any weapon, Ben realized.

Not much different from the wyrdknife, and that I know how to use, Ben thought, instinctively touching the familiar weight in his pocket.

Their equipment was checked and apt for their undertaking. Lunden nodded and continued, “Good. Spread out and remember your assigned positions. Stay vigilant. May Fortune guide us.”

The Lupari hunters, like shadows blending into the foliage of the Blackwoods, darted in opposite directions. Amycus galloped north while Corin sprinted south. Ruffa and Humbert ran diagonally forward. Lunden and Murley flanked Ben on either side at the center of the party.

“Alright, time to move,” Lunden said, and then turned his attention to Ben. “How’re you holding up, boy?”

Ben raised his chin and squared his shoulders. “Holding up okay, sir!”

Lunden arched an eyebrow, bemused. He was no inexperienced piskie he could fool, like Montbretia and Robin. Still, he did not press the matter further.

Murley scrutinized Ben with a faint smirk. “You’re carrying yourself better than I expected. Improved since your duel with Corin, I’d say. More confident.”

He felt a swell of pride at the acknowledgement, and he wondered if he really meant it or if he was simply trying to make him feel better for the upcoming challenge. Either way, he’d take whatever he could get to fight his increasing dread.

“Lad’s shaping up, isn’t he?” Murley asked Lunden.

Lunden continued with a nod. “Good to see. Confidence might just be the key to survival out here. Now, let’s start walking, or Corin will bump into us.”

The journey inward resumed in tense silence. The moonlight somehow filtered through the thick canopy, bestowing an eldritch atmosphere upon the road—if it could be called a road to begin with. Ben’s imagination vested the trees with evil countenances, which silently bore witness to their incursion.

About an hour passed, but the stillness made it feel like an eternity. Ben could almost hear the creak and heave of their bodies as they made their way, such was the intensity of the silence. A sudden, loud whistle that echoed through the weald shattered the serenity of the moonlit landscape.

They immediately stopped in their tracks. Ben’s heart pounded in his chest, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. “What was that?”

As if in response, a rustling noise emanated from the opposite direction. The Lupari hunters instinctively gripped their weapons and slightly bent their knees, ready to draw at a moment’s notice. Ruffa emerged out of the foliage; her eyes wide with urgency.

Lunden cursed their luck. “That was Humbert’s signal, but it's too early yet—Lupari, on me!”

Without hesitation, they broke into a wild sprint into the greenery to their right. Branches and shrubbery snapped and cut at Ben as he stumbled along, trying to keep up with the more adept Lupari’s pace. The terrain proved challenging, and he felt nicks and bruises forming as they navigated the dense underbrush.

Ben felt a gust of wintry air reach him from behind. He cocked his head to the side without breaking his run; freezing the ground before him as he went, Corin was rapidly ice-skating his way across the trees, as if they were obstacles on a ski track. He slowed down next to Ben and matched his speed.

Suddenly, Ruffa’s voice reached them from ahead. “Humbert, we’re coming!” The urgency in her tone pumped Ben with adrenaline. Corin nodded at him, a silent understanding passing between the two. His abilities were better used at the fore. He skated into the darkness beyond, leaving behind a single trail of ice.

Ben stumbled again and cursed. In front of him, the Lupari broke out of the forest and into a clearing. He heard the blood-curling howling of wolves. Wargs. He froze in place, paralyzed with fear. The hunt had officially begun.