The stream’s soft burble filled the silence as I stared at the rippling water. Mal was still crouched by the edge, her fingers tracing the blade of her sword as if it were a talisman keeping her steady. The tension between us was thick, an unspoken acknowledgment of the storm that seemed to be brewing on the horizon.
“I hate riddles,” Mal said finally, breaking the silence. Her voice was sharp, but there was a weariness to it that made her sound smaller. “What do you think he meant, really? About us fighting the wrong war?”
I didn’t answer right away. The glow in my hands was gone now, my strength drained to its limits, and I felt an unsettling hollowness in its place. I wanted to say he was just trying to mess with our heads, to plant doubt where there should have been certainty. But the truth was, his words had stuck with me.
What if he was right?
“I don’t know,” I said at last, leaning back against the tree and closing my eyes. The exhaustion was clawing at me now, dragging me down like a weight I couldn’t shake. “Maybe it was just a distraction. Or… maybe it wasn’t.”
Mal let out a frustrated sigh, standing and sheathing her sword with a sharp click. “I hate this. We’ve been chasing him for months, and now that it’s done-” She broke off, shaking her head. “It doesn’t feel like it’s over.”
Because it wasn’t. I didn’t need to say it aloud for us both to know the truth. The shadow king’s defeat hadn’t brought the relief we’d hoped for. His warning had left a splinter of doubt in our minds, festering and growing with every passing second.
“I wish Sarah were here,” Mal murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was staring at the horizon now, her expression guarded, but I could see the flicker of vulnerability there. Sarah had been the one to keep us grounded, the one who could make sense of riddles like the shadow king’s. But she was gone-lost in the first battle that had set us on this path.
“Me too,” I admitted. My throat tightened, but I forced myself to sit up. Dwelling on what we’d lost wouldn’t bring Sarah back. It wouldn’t give us answers.
“What do we do now?” Mal asked after a long moment, turning back to face me. There was steel in her gaze again, the kind of determination that had kept us alive this long. But beneath it, I could see the cracks-the same cracks that were forming in me.
I hesitated, my mind racing through the options. Going back to the others was an obvious choice, but the shadow king’s words echoed in my head: You’re fighting the wrong war. What if we didn’t even know what the real war was yet? What if going back would only delay the inevitable?
“We need to figure out what he meant,” I said finally, pushing myself to my feet. My limbs protested, but I ignored the pain. “If there’s something bigger coming, we can’t just sit around and wait for it to find us.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” Mal crossed her arms, her tone skeptical. “We don’t have a map to whatever ‘something worse’ he was talking about.”
“No, but he does.” The words were out before I could stop them, and I saw Mal’s eyes widen in alarm.
“You want to go back?” she said, incredulous. “To his body? Are you insane?”
I shook my head. “Not to him. To his lair.”
Mal stared at me like I’d grown another head. “You mean the one we barely escaped from last time? The one that’s probably crawling with whatever rogues survived this fight?”
“Yes,” I said, meeting her gaze. “If there are answers, they’ll be there.”
She threw up her hands, letting out a string of curses under her breath. “You really are insane,” she muttered. “But fine. If that’s what you want, I’m with you. Not because it’s a good idea, mind you, but because you’d probably get yourself killed without me.”
Despite the situation, I felt a flicker of gratitude. Mal was right-this was reckless, maybe even suicidal. But it was also the only lead we had. And I couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling that we didn’t have much time to waste.
We rested by the stream for a few more minutes, gathering what strength we could before setting off. The forest felt different now, every shadow heavier, every rustle in the underbrush sharper. It was like the air itself was waiting, watching, holding its breath.
As we walked, I kept glancing at Mal. She was tense, her hand never straying far from the hilt of her blade. The determination was still there, but I could see the fear behind it. She didn’t want to go back any more than I did, but she knew we didn’t have a choice.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said after a while, breaking the silence. “What if he wasn’t bluffing? What if this thing coming… it’s worse than anything we’ve faced?”
I met Mal’s gaze, her green eyes dark with worry, and shook my head. “If it’s worse, we’ll deal with it. Just like we dealt with him.” My voice sounded steadier than I felt.
Mal scoffed. “Great plan. Just wing it until we don’t have wings left.”
Her sarcasm didn’t bother me. It never had, not really. It was her way of masking the fear we were both feeling. But I also knew she wasn’t wrong. Going into this without a clear plan-or backup-felt like asking for disaster.
As we walked, the terrain grew rougher, the underbrush clawing at our clothes. The forest was darker here, the trees densely packed, their limbs entwined like fingers locking us in. I couldn’t shake the feeling we were being watched, though every time I glanced over my shoulder, there was nothing but shadows.
Mal must have felt it too. She kept glancing to the sides, her grip on her sword tightening with every step. “Tell me we’re close,” she said after what felt like hours.
“We’re close,” I lied. In truth, I wasn’t sure. The shadow king’s lair had been deep within the heart of this forest, its exact location etched in my memory like a scar. But the forest didn’t look the same now-it felt different, almost alive, like it was shifting around us.
The wind picked up, carrying a low, mournful howl through the trees. Mal stopped abruptly, her hand flying to the hilt of her blade. “Did you hear that?”
I nodded, my pulse quickening. The sound was faint, but it sent a chill racing through me. It wasn’t just the wind-that much was clear. It was something else, something watching, waiting.
“We’re not alone,” Mal muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
I swallowed hard, my fingers twitching as I tried to summon even a fraction of the energy I’d spent in the fight earlier. My hands sparked faintly, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
The howl came again, closer this time, and it was joined by another. And then another. Mal swore under her breath, drawing her sword with a metallic hiss. “They’re hunting us.”
“Run,” I said, my voice tight.
“What?” She glanced at me like I’d lost my mind.
“Run,” I repeated, already backing away. “We can’t fight them-not like this. Not here.”
She didn’t argue this time. Together, we turned and sprinted through the trees, the howls growing louder behind us. My lungs burned as branches clawed at my arms and legs, but I didn’t slow down. Mal was just ahead of me, her blade flashing as she hacked through the dense undergrowth.
The first creature appeared to my left-a blur of darkness, eyes glinting like molten gold. It lunged, snapping at me with fanged jaws, but I ducked and rolled, feeling its claws rake the air just above me. I scrambled to my feet and kept running, my heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else.
“There!” Mal shouted, pointing ahead. Through the trees, I saw the faint outline of a cliff face-the entrance to the shadow king’s lair. My stomach twisted at the sight, but there was no time for hesitation.
The creatures were closing in. I could hear their guttural growls and the pounding of their paws on the forest floor. My legs screamed in protest, but I forced myself to keep moving, the cliff growing closer with every step.
We reached the entrance just as the first of the creatures lunged again. This time, Mal was ready. She turned and swung her blade in a wide arc, the steel catching the creature mid-leap. It let out a bloodcurdling yelp and crashed to the ground, motionless.
“Inside!” she yelled, backing toward the opening.
I didn’t need to be told twice. I stumbled into the lair, the air cold and damp, and turned just in time to see Mal slam the heavy stone door shut behind her. The creatures threw themselves against it, their snarls muffled by the thick rock, but they didn’t seem to have the strength to force it open.
Mal leaned against the door, panting heavily, her face pale. “Tell me that was your plan.”
“Not exactly,” I admitted, still trying to catch my breath.
She shot me a glare but didn’t say anything else. Instead, she straightened and looked around the chamber we’d just entered. It was as I remembered-dark, cold, and eerily quiet. The walls were lined with symbols I couldn’t decipher, glowing faintly with an otherworldly light.
“Great,” Mal muttered, brushing dirt off her pants. “Back in the belly of the beast.”
I stepped farther into the room, my gaze sweeping over the strange markings. “If he kept anything important, it’ll be deeper inside.”
Mal sighed, pushing off the door and following me. “You owe me for this,” she said. “Big time.”
As we moved deeper into the lair, the oppressive feeling in the air grew stronger. It wasn’t just the shadows-it was the weight of something old, something powerful. And though we were alone, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the shadow king’s presence lingered here, watching our every move.
We reached what I could only describe as a throne room. At its center stood a massive obsidian chair, its surface carved with more of those glowing symbols. Above it hung a tattered banner, its colors long faded, and around the room were scattered remnants of battles long past.
“What now?” Mal asked, glancing around warily.