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his plan. He was happy to have earned the acceptance of the seasoned mercenary.

“What do you need from me?” Andr volunteered.

“Nothing right now,” Ryl replied with a smile that had grown larger, spreading across his face. “I can use the stone blade to cut this. It should be a relatively simple adjustment.”

A quiet laugh escaped from the mercenary.

“Mind those words my young friend,” he said sternly. “They can be a curse, and we don't have all day you know. Not much more than an hour before sunup. I want to check on those traps at first light.”

The night was still dark, yet the first hints of color could be seen eking their way into the sky above.

“Good luck,” Andr said, patting him on the back.

Ryl wasted no time diving into the task before him. The edge of the stone blade was razor sharp, slicing through the splint with ease. Once cut in half, the fabric fell short of wrapping completely around his forearms. He chose to leave the exposed skin on the inside of his arms, while the Leaves rested along the underside.

The weapons still fit tightly into their makeshift sheathes. The heel of his thumb served as a natural stopper, preventing the weapons from falling should the fabric stretch. Using the stone blade, he made a series of small holes on both sides of the fabric. Taking the straps of leather that had held his original splint, he fashioned long strips which he fed through the holes he’d created. He wrapped them in a crisscrossing pattern up his arm, tying them together tightly at the top.

Ryl smiled with a sense of accomplishment as he held his arms out examining his work. The process had consumed only a short amount of time, yet he was exceptionally pleased with the result.

The custom bracers fit snugly on his arms with the fabric providing an extra layer of protection from the thorny bushes. However, with the innate toughness of his skin, a byproduct of the newly inherited woodskin, along with the seemingly impervious phrenic cloak that covered his left arm, the benefit was negligible.

The sensations of the Leaves close to his skin as well as having the weapons available at a moment’s notice were the true benefits of the redesigned bracers. The stone spear was an effective and deadly weapon, yet the tried-and-true Leaves were a greater comfort as the pair plodded further into the unknown.

“Mind if I look at your handywork?” Andr inquired.

The sky had lightened dramatically as the sun stretched above the horizon. Ryl moved to Andr’s side allowing the mercenary to make a quick inspection of the bracers. He turned Ryl’s arms over and back again as he catalogued every detail of the simple design. The mercenary smiled, involuntarily nodding his head in approval.

“Well done. A simple design, yet effective,” Andr said with unveiled respect. “The sun’s far enough in the sky. It’s time we go check on the traps. Grab the spear then let's go.”

Ryl quickly retrieved the spear, rejoining Andr as he pulled down their loosely woven branch screen. He focused his mind, searching for any sign of the black shape that had appeared over the last two nights. As he expected, there was no sign of any movement.

“Follow me,” Andr whispered. “Stay quiet.”

Ryl nodded his head as he followed the mercenary from the cave. He squinted his eyes at the drastic change in light as they exited, melting quickly into the copse. The dappled light from the sun through the trees spread across the ground in random, scattered patterns. The air under the canopy was still. Their feet crunched softly as they fell on the leaves strewn across the reddish earth.

The staggered trees left open lines of sight in nearly all directions. No hints of movement or sounds other than their own came from any direction. Ryl could hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

As they approached the first of their traps the sickening smell was the first thing to assault their senses. It was an unmistakable scent of death mixed with the putrid odor of decay. The stench threatened the meager contents of Ryl's stomach as he fought back the urge to wretch. He held his spear at the ready, quickly scanning again, finding no trace of the blackness from the night. Andr held one hand over his nose the other wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword.

The scene that met their eyes was a horror. Unidentifiable remains of a small animal were strewn about in a radius of blood, flesh, entrails and bone. The trees were awash with splatters of blood, small chunks of quickly rotting flesh clung to their bark. Bits of fur, flesh and bone were strewn about the area. Whatever had done this was less interested in feeding than tearing the poor creature to pieces.

At the center of the slaughter, mixed in with the remains of their trap, lay the bloodied head of the unfortunate animal, its skull crushed beyond recognition. Brain matter, bones, and bits of fur squished under their feet as they paused viewing in the scene with utter revulsion.

The air was thick with the overpowering odor, the stench far more potent in the midst of the devastation. Ryl squeezed him mouth shut for fear he'd taste it.

“What could have done this?” he choked out the words, fighting back another wave of nausea.

“I hate to admit, I have no idea,” Andr replied quietly. “I’ve never seen this level of wanton destruction before.”

Their heads were on a swivel as they scanned the grove.

“We need to fill up on water and leave here now,” Andr said hurriedly, directing Ryl back toward the small spring. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to skip your lesson for the morning. We need to put distance between us and whatever did this.”

Ryl savored the flavor of the fresh air as they hastened from the scene of the massacre. Andr abruptly grabbed his shoulder, pulling him to a halt. The mercenary hesitated, scanning the surrounding grove

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