Sigvid?
Some aspect of each of these men reminds her of the Salt Prince. “I apologize,” she hesitantly approaches the doorway. “It appears I have stumbled upon a private matter.”
Skull Mask, whom she swiftly identifies as the leader, takes a confident step closer. She slides her foot back only to stumble into the wall. The beast stalking her pauses long enough to tilt its bony head, and in the faint light, she can almost discern a wicked grin underneath.
She bolts from the room, not risking uncovering the identity of these monsters—even if one of them is Sigvid.
Her feet echo throughout the Guardian Mausoleum, and only when she is halfway up the staircase does she hear the heavy footfalls of one of the masked men pursuing her in the darkness.
Her strides feel sluggish against her racing heart, which urges her onward. Winter air whips at her flushed cheeks as she dives into the night. At her back, the doors of the mausoleum snap shut.
If she follows the path back to the city, she can use the walls to lead her to an open gate. Grim, Slode, or another Drengr can escort her home.
What if they wish to kill me? Finn did. Kar is less murderous and more apathetic. Slode will aid me as Sigvid’s oldest friend, right?
But her sense of safety shatters at the crash of the crypt door. Twisting around, she sees Skull Mask searching the area before settling that eerie, eyeless focus on her retreating form.
She tears off into the frozen forest. The wind bites at her exposed skin, and despite the fur clothing, the cold air descends into uninhabitable territory.
White snow swirls, reminding her she is losing time to find shelter.
I must be close to Blackwood.
The thickening snow halfway up her legs slices her movements in half. Once her lungs begin to protest, she collapses against a tree trunk.
Maybe he gave up?She risks a look over her shoulder and feels her body tighten.
Skull Mask has vanished.
Avina’s eyes peer across the expanse of Salt blackwood trees to find herself very much alone. Yet, why does she not feel like she is the only one in this forest? She senses the presence of someone hidden among the gnarled sentinels doing little to assuage her imminent terror.
Her hand clutches the Ridge stone, and she wills herself to vanish. The familiar trickle of invisibility crawls over her skin, shielding her and the stone.
Crunch… Crunch… Crunch…
She trudges through the snowy underbrush, her legs burning from the wet cold permeating her dress. A loud yawn trembles through her tired body, wobbling on her shaky legs.
Once again, she stops to get her bearings when she hears it.
Crunch… Crunch… Crunch…
The echoing sound of boots sinking in the snow draws her gaze over her shoulder to the empty darkness.
Then, the bitter wind dies down, and snowfall ceases.
All woodland sounds, including the deer snorts and the faint flutter of the birds of prey, are quiet against the night as if something more sinister has entered their sanctuary. She is careful to pivot her head and not make a sound.
The figure has vanished again.
Where did he go?
An owl hoots loudly, jolting Avina forward. The brief pause disorients her sense of direction, forcing her to change course.
She has not ventured far when the sickening sound of those boots slicing through the snow from behind the nearest tree drum in her heart once more.
“Show yourself!” Her nerve breaks, leaving her voice hollow with fear.
Can he still see me through my power?
