I rolled my shoulders, working out the last kinks of transformation. “Nothing immediate. No tracks and no signs of passage.” My nostrils flared. “Can’t smell much beyond the stench of rodent, though.”
Nico’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Better a clean rodent than a wet dog.” His fingers tightened on the hilt of his dagger, knuckles going white. “Some of us actually bathe.”
“Some of us don’t need to compensate.” My gaze flicked meaningfully to his hip pouch.
The squirrel’s face darkened, a flush creeping up his neck as he stepped forward. Val positioned himself between us with a sigh, one hand raised toward each of us.
Samara slid off Buttercup’s back. “If you two are finished measuring, we need to make this quick.”
My attention turned to the horses, and I stopped next to Buttercup, considering if he would let me ride him. The hell horse’s ears flattened against his skull, his red eyes meeting mine with unmistakable challenge. Heat rolled off his massive frame, and I caught the faint whiff of smoke beneath his earthy scent.
Samara’s hand came to rest on his flank, her eyes hard as she read my expression. “Buttercup is fiercely protective ofme and will only allow you to ride him if I give you permission. And I won’t, so don’t ask.”
I squared my shoulders, drawing up to my full height. “I don’t want to ride your horse.” My lips curled into a smile that showed too many teeth. “He probably couldn’t handle me.”
Buttercup’s nostrils flared, and he huffed smoke directly into my face. The sulfurous blast burned my eyes and coated my tongue with ash.
I coughed, blinking away tears, then surprised myself by laughing. The tension in my chest eased slightly. “Not bad.” I met the horse’s glare with newfound respect. “Got some spirit in you.”
Buttercup snorted again, this time without the smoke, as if he’d made his point and didn’t need to waste the effort.
Nico took Buttercup’s lead, and the massive beast lowered his head, nuzzling against the squirrel’s shoulder with unexpected gentleness. The contrast between Buttercup’s fearsome appearance and his affection for these two was unsettling.
Nico looked over at me, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he stroked Buttercup’s mane. The smugness in his expression made my blood boil.
I snapped my teeth at him, the sound sharp and sudden in the quiet forest. The squirrel didn’t flinch, just widened his smirk into a grin that said he knew exactly how much his easy rapport with Samara and her hell horse irritated me.
I turned away from Nico, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he’d gotten under my skin.
After the horses had their fill of water, we continued on, leaving the stream behind us. That strange, sour scent grew stronger as we traveled, and the forest was still unnaturally silent. Even the horses seemed to sense it, their ears flicking nervously, hooves striking the ground with hesitation.
An hour into our journey after the stream, the path widened slightly, and I caught the first glimpse of Shadowmere. The village looked intact but abandoned, with no smoke, no movement, and no sound.
My hackles rose. Wrong. Everything about this place felt wrong.
I dropped into a low crouch as we approached. The others followed my lead, tension clear in the way Val’s shoulders tightened and how Samara’s hand drifted to the dagger at her hip.
Nico dismounted first, helping Samara down from Buttercup with unnecessarily lingering hands. Val’s jaw clenched as he swung down from his own mount, the leather of his saddle creaking in the silence.
We secured the horses to a sturdy tree at the village’s edge. Buttercup stamped his foot and tossed his head, clearly reluctant to stay behind. His ember eyes fixed on Samara with what looked almost like concern.
“We’ll be back soon,” Samara stroked his muzzle, her voice barely above a whisper. “Stay quiet.”
I took point, every sense on high alert as I prowled toward the main road. The wrongness intensified with each step. My nose twitched, searching for any trace of life and anything that would explain Shadowmere’s abandonment.
Nothing except for the smell of rotting food.
The emptiness wasn’t just physical. Even the air felt hollow, stripped of scent and substance. My panther recoiled at the void, instincts screaming that this absence wasn’t natural.
The road was littered with everyday items. A child’s wooden toy, a basket of now-rotting vegetables, a leather satchel with tools spilling out. Life had simply stopped here. There was no blood, no sign of struggle. Just… absence.
We approached the inn, a two-story structure with thedoor hanging slightly ajar. I nudged it open, the hinges creaking as the door swung wider. Val followed close behind, his body coiled with anticipation, one hand on his blade.
The scent inside was stale, and the common room looked frozen in time, with ledgers spread across the innkeeper’s desk and a drawer hanging open with a small pile of coins inside.
Val ran his fingers along the desk, examining the thin layer of dust that clung to his skin. “They’ve been gone for over a week.”
Nico crowded the doorway, keeping Samara partially behind him as his eyes darted around the room. “No signs of disease or attack.”
