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patting him on the shoulder.

“This is the border of the Fellwood,” Andr announced quietly. “The estate of the late Lord Felloc sits on the edge of the lake two days walk to the east of here. In their home we would have found a friendly welcome. Rest assured that the man whose land we already tread upon is less than sympathetic to our cause.”

“How do you know this for certain?” Nielix questioned.

“Theirs was no random killing,” Andr spat. “This was a political assassination. An entire family, husband, wife, children, all paid with their lives to send a message. The King seized their lands and gifted it out to curry the favor of another noble.”

“How do you know so much about this killing?” Nielix asked.

“Murders of this high profile don’t happen regularly,” Andr admitted. “Violence like this is especially uncommon among the noble class. When deaths like this occur, the word spreads like wildfire.”

Andr averted his gaze from the party back to the woods. Ryl caught the fleeting hint of emotion flash across his face. There was pain, there was struggle, there was loss. His friend watched the woods with wandering eyes. There was more to this story then he was admitting, of that Ryl was sure.

“Let’s make for the forest,” Andr said. “We’re nearly out of food. There’s a stream not too far from here. We can find food, water and shelter under the trees.”

Nielix was the first to move, suppressing a yawn as he confidently strode toward the woods. He casually slipped his sword back into the sheath on his belt.

“Stay alert, my friend,” Andr warned. “It’s not the unknown to be feared here, it’s man. As you well know, the depravity of humankind is well documented in this kingdom.”

The group fell into a rough line as they eagerly moved toward the forest. There was a visible lightness to their steps that had been missing for days.

Ryl waited beside Andr as the rest walked toward the woods. He watched the retreating backs of his companions as he spoke to the mercenary.

“This was the location of your last job, wasn’t it?” Ryl asked loud enough for only Andr to hear.

In his heart he was confident of the answer.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Andr’s head drop. The mercenary needn’t utter a word. The pain, the confusion, and the loss were explained and justified. This last job had cost Andr dearly. He’d lost friends, his home—it had ushered in the ultimate betrayal of his wife and cost him his son. Ryl sent a wave of comfort over his friend before turning his head to meet Andr’s eyes. “There’s likely less than two weeks before the Harvest,” Ryl encouraged. “You’ll be reunited with your son soon.”

Andr’s eyes bored into Ryl as they maintained their stare. After a moment, he blinked, nodding his head slightly.

“I will follow you to the end, my friend,” he said. “Come, let’s keep up with the others.”

Ryl and Andr followed their companions across the uneven terrain. The line separating the jagged rocks and lifeless landscape was dramatic. One step, the land was barren, a virtually lifeless tan void. The next, the small scatterings of resilient grasses along the border sprouted into a wall of greenery; short, wild grasses merging with the slender trees at the forest’s edge.

Their companions had spread out forming a porous line across the forest’s face, peering into the darkened interior. The woods were nowhere near as dense as the Erlyn, or even the severed remains of the great forest that ran along the mountains, separating Vim from the wastes and demons of the Outlands.

The forest here was alive, however, not in the same sense that the Erlyn was. Birdsong floated through the trees; squirrels chittered as they played in the branches above their heads.

Andr continued forward as he reached the line. His unspoken command propelled the others into action, following his lead as he stalked into the woods. He moved onward with a familiarity as if he’d walked the forest's paths since he was a child. A single file line plotted along in his wake, carefully observing their surroundings for any sign of human activity.

It wasn’t long before Andr led them to the banks of a narrow stream that ran in a southerly direction through the forest. They paused to refill their waterskins from the crisp, clean water before following its course further into the woods. Past midday they veered away from the stream, following a narrow game trail through a thick patch of laurel.

The path led alongside the base of a massive boulder. A large tree uprooted at some point in the distant past leaned against the top of the rock. On its opposite side, the shrubs subsided, forming a large clearing. The boulder had fractured, depositing a significant chunk of stone a short distance from its side.

“We can camp here,” Andr announced, placing his bag against the side of the rock. “There only two narrow entrances, an approach through the laurel would be far too noisy. Vox, think you can start us a fire?”

“Aye, with pleasure,” the elementalist replied with a grin.

“We'd do well to keep the smoke to a minimum," the mercenary instructed. "Dig two small adjacent holes about half a meter deep behind that rock. Connect their bottoms with a narrow tunnel. Use one hole for fuel, the second leave open for airflow. The fire will burn hot and discrete.”

Andr rummaged through his pack retrieving a length of fine rope.

“I'll set some traps,” he offered. “Kaep, if my memory serves me right, there is a small pool just downstream from where we entered the brush. Care to try your hand at fishing?”

She nodded in reply.

“Stay quiet. Stay alert,” Andr warned. “Dav, you're with me. Ryl, stay with Kaep.”

Without another word, Andr hurried off using the second path that continued further past the rock. Kaep had already started walking back toward the stream, and Ryl hastened after her.

The natural sounds of the forest were a deafening rumble compared

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