“Four days.” Helaneth snapped a sprig of berries from a bush and passed them to Dirien. A short walk behind them, a campfire crackled, tended by a diligent Al’mar while he roasted a pheasant. “Four days we’ve been out here and nothin’. Don’t twist me up, I feel bad for the demented old fool, but he shouldn’t even have a dog if he’s gonna let it wander through portals.”

Dirien moved in to touch her shoulder, but she leaned out of reach, dropping to her hands and knees in pursuit of a stubborn sprig.

“We’ll find him soon.”

“Ya always say things, but you’re never sure. In fact, usually the damned opposite thing happens from what you say, and then we’re runnin’ like rabbits from giant weevils and Lus’rak. How can you always be so optimistic? Doesn’t anything ever piss you off, Dirien?”

“I… no, Hela. I don’t think so.”

“Too pure to live in a world like this, ya are.” Helaneth stood, shaking free of a twig that snagged on her sleeve. She grasped Dirien’s hand and gave it a slight squeeze. Gazing into his eyes, she took momentary refuge in their innocence. “I’m sorry, Dirien. You’ve done nothin’ wrong. Just that I get fed up with things sometimes. Not you, though. Don’t you change a thing, all right?” With a gentle tug of his hand, she led him back to the fire.

Even Al’mar was struggling to maintain his jolly demeanor. He greeted them with a smile as sincere as he could manage given the circumstances.

“Supper should be ready soon. And from the looks of it, you two have foraged well, too. Let’s be grateful that we at least have Lenkirn’s blessings amidst this senseless endeavor.”

Helaneth clenched her fingers, forgetting they were still clasped with Dirien’s. He yanked himself free with a slight whimper.

“I’m already in a poor mood without your blaspheming.” Kicking out a leg, she dropped her weight to sit on a log. “Ain’t no forest god’s blessings anyplace this far from Fenglade. Nothin’ tying people and nature together, just everything an’ everyone being, surviving individually. Whoever says otherwise is lyin’ to ya.”

“My apologies, Miss Helaneth. The last thing I mean to do is offend.”

“It’s fine. Just irritated is all.” In the corner of her eye, she spotted something moving. A faint rustling made her ears twitch. From the bushes a few yards away, a brown tail stuck out, wagging excitedly.

“There he is, the bastard!” Chunks of bark broke away from the log and stuck to Helaneth’s clothes as she jumped to her feet. Her head rushing with thoughts of relief that their endeavor would finally end, she sped to the bushes. As she closed in, the tail withdrew, and the canine figure attached to it retreated.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be.” The dog weaved through the vegetation, clearing obstacles with expert jumps. Helaneth tried her best to keep up, but the chase was, of course, a game to the animal. They continued into a clearing, where the dog stopped and faced Helaneth, wagging his tail. She stopped, too, standing still with her arms flared at her sides. Controlling her breath was not an easy task after a spurt of running, but she kept it steady.

She set a toe forward, keeping a close eye on the dog’s movements. Easing her weight onto it, she inched toward him. The dog lowered his head, crouching on his front legs, tail wagging faster now. She took another step, and the dog crouched lower with a playful growl. A third step, and the dog sprinted back, reassuming its position once he made some distance.

“Who—ugh, who’s a good boy?” she asked in as soft and sweet a voice as she could while her blood was simmering with frustration. “Stay, boy.”

While she was contemplating her next move, she looked over her shoulder at the source of crackling twigs behind her. Dirien emerged from the brush, and the dog twisted around and ran off. Helaneth groaned.

“I almost had him!” she shouted. “Go back with Al’mar! I’ve got this.” As soon as she finished giving her command, Al’mar appeared as well. Helaneth threw her arms in the air.

“Gods, are you serious—I don’t have time for either of ya’s!” Rubbing her temples, she waited for a plan to come to her, but her blood was boiling away her ideas. “Both of ya do what you want, but don’t mess this up for me. I’m gonna catch the dog, and we’re gonna bring him right back to that old bastard mage as soon as the first ray of sun pokes up.”

They said nothing in reply. Helaneth hurried on after the dog, dipping down to pick up a stick he might find tempting. Bounding over the forest floor debris, she found her pace and kept her eyes locked on the only sign of the dog among the brambles: his tail, which never ceased its wagging.

The chase continued for far too long, pulse pounding in her ears as her stamina wore down to the vapor. The shadow of a tall escarpment loomed, and the dog slowed to a stop at the edge of it. His tail stopped wagging. He lifted a front paw and drew back his ears, his body rigid. Helaneth tiptoed closer, and to her surprise the dog did not try to run away.

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“Tryin’ to show me somethin’, boy?” she asked, hushing her voice. His glossy nose twitched at a scent she soon picked up as well. Sharp, fetid. Heavy. A slight breeze lightened it, but it was potent enough to sting. Her upper lip curled into a grimace. “What is it? A dead deer? Go on and show me.”

The dog whimpered, still pointing.

“What? Ya ran all this way and now you’re scared?” Helaneth scanned the breadth of the rock face and found nothing. Sunlight was growing scarcer, and shadows obscured the deep clefts. She took a step past the dog, and only then did he relax his stance. He lowered his tail, leveling it with his body, and followed her as she proceeded forward.

The odor grew stronger and heavier the closer they came to the wall of rock. While a dead animal in a forest would have been no surprise, this was more than that, tenfold. Helaneth had a strong stomach, but this challenged even her resolve. She swallowed an oncoming urge to retch, her hand reaching up instinctively to cover her nose.

“This must be even more foul for your cute little nose,” she said to the dog. “Can ya help me find where that awful smell is coming from? You can have a nice stick if ya do.”

The dog’s ears, flattened triangles, pricked up at the word “stick.” His tail stood and he let out an excited bark.

“Aye, but not ‘til our work is done.” She held up the stick and waved it. The dog sat, panting with anticipation. “I’ll throw it nice and far for ya, I will. Promise.” As she lowered it to her side, the dog resumed his normal demeanor. He must have been well-trained.

“Go. Seek? I dunno…” She pointed in the general direction of the scent. “Oi, ya slobberin’ mutt, show me the fucking—” The dog dashed off, looking back over his shoulder. She hurried after him again, this time wrapping around the side of the cliff and climbing up the slope on the other side.

At the crest, which was speckled with brambles and centered with a stalwart oak tree, Helaneth doubled over hands-on-knees.

“Damn… dog…” she sputtered between breaths. “Lucky you’re cute.” She trudged the last few paces, looping around the tree. Its thick trunk concealed the scene that waited on the other side: a flat cart with torn wrappings of canvas and linen, the securing ropes loosened. Through the tears in the fabric escaped limp, shriveled hands and soulless, oozing faces. The fluids of decay soaked through spots of the fabric, and the excess dripped into the dirt.

“What’d I tell ya, old man,” Helaneth muttered to herself, “No gods out here.” The dog lay on the ground, whimpering, tail low and head between his paws.

After a battle between her hesitance and curiosity, she gathered enough courage to inspect the scene. On the ground beside the cart lay a body unlike the others: a teenage girl, waterlogged letters spilling from her bag. Helaneth searched the pocket of her cloak and found a small leather case imprinted with the courier’s guild brand. Inside she found the badge of her company, one that was not familiar. Was she charged with transporting this cargo, or was she caught in the wrong place at the wrong time?

As she pocketed the badge and case, a sudden shout from the woods raised the hairs on her neck.

“Miss Helaneth!” Al’mar was out of breath but still able to channel sternness in his voice. “Now, I know you’re frustrated, but we all work better together, you’ve got Dirien worried sick, and the forest is dangerous in the night—”

“Will ya quit flappin’ your gob? If ya scare away the dog again, we’re gonna have a problem.” Helaneth grimaced, having caught a sharp whiff of the smell again. Tightening her lips, she waited for her stomach to settle. “And do ya not smell the rot of corpses?”

“Corpses?” Al’mar’s face turned grim as he turned around the tree trunk and looked upon the many faces of death. “I suppose I’ve grown so accustomed to that stench I thought it was a deer. Sometimes when the Lus’rak cross over for a summoning, they reek of it.”

“Oi, old man. Ya gonna help me or not?”

“My apologies, Miss Helaneth. What is your plan?” he asked, starting his own survey of the scene.

“I dunno, what with the findings of Dev and Anna’s crew. Reportin’ this to the guard might do more harm than good, but if we’re keepin’ an eye out for our own investigation, we can’t pass this up. Could be a lead.” She glanced down at the young messenger, a frown dimpling her rounded chin. “Ya think this girl knew what she was draggin’ around?”

“She may not have,” Al’mar said as he continued to inspect the shipment. He bent down, sliding his hands under a dry portion of the canvas wrap to feel around the flat bed of the cart. “It is not unheard of, Miss Helaneth, for criminal entities to request younger initiate couriers with a strict ‘do not open’ order. It is a strategy they employ to throw potential pursuers off their scent.” Emerging with a small, flat box just thick enough for the lock on its side, he rocked on his heels and eased his old knees straight.

“What’s that?” asked Helaneth.

“Locked is what it is!” He tried the lid with a gentle push of his thumbs. “And important, no doubt. I wonder who has the key.”

“Why don’t ya just bust it open?”

“You really ought to be less trusting of that method, Miss Helaneth. You can never be sure how these kinds of things are secured, or how they might blow up in your face. Sometimes, even, in a literal sense. You could end up destroying an important lead, and yourself in the process.”

“All right then, old man, what do ya suggest we do?”

“Perhaps the Association mages can help us once we’ve returned safe with their friend’s dog.”

“I suppose, long as they don’t get too nosy.” Helaneth nodded to the dog, whose tail tip twitched as she acknowledged him. “Now where’s Dirien? Back at the camp?”

“Yes. We shouldn’t leave him alone for too long, considering what happened with the weevils last time. Were we truly wanting to just leave the bodies here?”

“If you’ve got time to send ‘em off, old man, be my guest. I’ve got the dog and we’ve got a lead for our investigation; I’m not muddlin’ around in any corpse juice to figure out any more.” She tried a snap of her fingers, and to her surprise and delight, the dog rushed to her side. “Besides, like ya said, we shouldn’t leave Dirien alone for too long. I’m pissed off, I’m tired, and at the risk of havin’ to stay any longer in these forsaken woods, I’m goin’ back.”