The blood trail led them between two massive rock formations. Wind screamed through the gap, whipping debris past their heads as leaves and branches spun through the air. A stone bounced off Zeke's shoulder and he hissed a curse.
Raaze hunched his shoulders, a tremor running through his lean frame. His gaze kept darting to the sky, watching the clouds. When he caught Zeke looking, he straightened and affected his usual bored expression.
"Problem, Raaze?" Kraath's voice held mild amusement.
"Draanthing weather came out of nowhere," Raaze muttered, rubbing his arms before dropping them to his sides. "Getting cold."
They pushed deeper into the valley, following Michelle's blood trail. The rocks were slick from the rain, every step a gamble. Vines thick as cables hung between the trees, thorns the length of Zeke's thumb ready to shred anything that got too close. Even the bushes were hostile—leaves that clinked like metal when the wind hit them.
The wind picked up again, strong enough to make even Kraath lean into it. The commander's dark hair whipped around his face as he studied the terrain ahead, his eyes narrowed against the wind.
Ahead, a flicker of movement that wasn't wind-driven debris caught Zeke’s eye. "Stop," he said, raising his hand.
A spider emerged from behind a fallen log, picking its way across the wet ground. Krevasta—one of Parac'Norr's native arachnids. But something was wrong with this one. Its movements were too purposeful, too directed. Where normal krevasta skittered with random, prey-seeking patterns, this one moved with intent.
And its eyes were red.
Legion-infected. He remembered Beth’s discovery, the way her face had lit up with excitement even as the implications of what it did to the krevasta terrified her.
The spider approached slowly, its eight legs moving with deliberate care rather than animal instinct. Each step was calculated, measured. It stopped just out of reach and looked up at him. Not the random attention of a creature, but focused observation.
“Infected,” Kraath said in a low voice. "Their numbers have been growing rapidly."
The krevasta turned toward Kraath's voice, tracking the sound with unnatural precision, then swiveled back to Zeke. It took a few steps forward, paused, then repeated the motion. The pattern was unmistakable… it wanted them to follow.
Michelle's scent clung to the creature. Faint but unmistakable... that combination of soap and skin and fear that he'd memorized when he'd treated her wounds. But there was something else, something that made the rage stir with new urgency.
Blood. The spider had tasted Michelle's blood.
"It's been with her," Zeke said, certainty settling into his bones. "It knows where she is."
The krevasta skittered backward, then forward again, its agitation increasing with each repetition. Its leg tapped against the wet stone in rapid staccato. It looked toward the deeper valley, where the clouds were thickest, then back at Zeke.
"Following a spider in a storm." Raaze's lips quirked upward despite his shivers. "That's a new one, even for the Voiceless."
The words stopped Zeke cold. He spun around. "What did you call me?"
Raaze shrugged, water from the earlier rain still dripping from his dark hair. "Nothing important."
"What the draanth did you call me?" Zeke took a step toward him, his shoulders bunching. The pressure in his chest built, demanding action.
"The Voiceless." Another shrug, but Raaze's red eyes held a spark of something… amusement? Knowledge? "You don't talk much. People notice."
People. Which people? The garrison soldiers? Other ferals? The way Raaze said it suggested more than just casual observation. Like it meant something. Like it was important.
"Explain," Zeke demanded, taking another step forward.
"Nothing to explain." Raaze's expression returned to its usual bored mask. "You're quiet. Some people find it... weird."
There was something Raaze wasn't saying. But before Zeke could press, Kraath's voice cut through the tension.
"We don't have time for this." The commander's tone brooked no argument. "Storm's getting worse."
He was right. The wind howled through the trees, bending branches until they creaked. The temperature kept dropping. Overhead, the clouds had turned that sick green-black color that meant serious trall was coming. The hair on Zeke's arms stood up as electricity built in the air around them.
The krevasta was moving again, skittering forward a few feet, stopping, looking back at them, then repeating the whole dance. Its red eyes caught what little light filtered through the storm clouds. Its legs tapped against the ground faster and faster, like it was running out of patience.
They followed it through a grove of twisted trees that did draanth-all to block the wind. The ground squelched under their boots and Raaze slipped, grabbing a tree trunk to keep from going down.
