Apparently, last night’s tales weren’t enough for him.
Calythra swings up onto Ridge’s back with a dramatic shrug. “Oh, you know, the usual hero stuff. Tracking beasts across impossible terrain, taking down predators twice his size, stealing hearts without even trying.”
I snort, rolling my eyes as I guide Geralt forwards. “The last one’s news to me.”
Jamie laughs, his grin wide as he mimics Solan’s quiet footsteps, pretending to scout ahead himself. “If he’s that good, maybe we should just follow him instead of worrying so much.”
“That’s the plan,” I say, though my voice is quieter now. We’re not sure how close the rebels are, and even though Solan’s promised to keep us safe, my instincts tell me to stay on high alert. I look around quickly. Shit, where’s he gone? “Barely two minutes, and I can’t even see him anymore.”
“Don’t worry,” Calythra says with a teasing lilt, reaching out his hand for Jamie, who eagerly takes it and swings up onto the saddle. “He’s not lost. And if he is, I’m sure he’ll just charm the trees into telling him where we are.”
Jamie snickers, but I give Calythra a dry look. “You’re surprisingly chatty for someone who’s supposed to be stealthy.”
He smirks, though his expression softens a moment later. “I guess I’m just happy to have company again. Before this, it was just me and my mentor, and that got… quiet. Too quiet.” He glances at Jamie, his tone shifting to something wistful. “You know, I almost got adopted once, when I first arrived in this world. By a Glowranth elder. He wanted to train me as a healer, thought I had potential. But the queen decided it wasn’t… appropriate.”
“Why?” Jamie asks, his brows furrowing.
Calythra’s grin turns bitter. “Because I’m not a Glowranth. Apparently, being not of this world makes me ‘unsuitable.’” He shrugs it off, but the weight of the memory clearly lingers. “Anyway, here I am, tracking with you instead. Life’s funny like that.”
Before I can respond, Calythra stiffens, his head tilting as his ears twitch. “Wait,” he murmurs, holding up a hand.
I don’t hear anything, but I trust him enough to tighten my grip on the reins, stopping Geralt. “What is it?” I whisper, reaching for my rifle.
He doesn’t answer immediately, scanning the trees ahead. Then, with barely a moment’s warning, the forest erupts into chaos.
They come from all sides—five figures emerging from the dense underbrush, their movements swift and deliberate. Two of them I recognise as Glowranth, their tall, sinewy humanoid forms shimmering faintly with the eerie bioluminescent ridges that mark their kind. Their glowing skin and smooth, monstrous features stand in stark contrast to the snarling aggression in their expressions. Despite their humanoid shape, the predatory grace of their movements reminds me that intelligent doesn’t mean harmlessness.
The other three are something else entirely—alien in a way that defies classification. Their forms are a haphazard blend of limbs and features that seem ripped from different nightmares. One creature stalks forwards on mismatched legs, its jagged carapace reflecting the faint light. Another’s elongated arms end in hooked claws that drag through the dirt as it lumbers forwards, its twisted face fixed in a grimace that might once have resembled a smile. The last moves with serpentine fluidity, its body coiling unnervingly as its many eyes glint with malicious intent.
These aren’t wild animals acting on instinct; they’re intelligent beings—monsters, yes, but with a purpose. There’s no mistaking it. Their coordinated movements and the silent, deliberate way they spread out around us scream of a well-executed ambush.
“Hold on!” Calythra shouts, already sliding off Ridge and drawing his blade.
Jamie screams as Ridge rears, and I barely manage to keep Geralt steady as the monsters close in.
I fight back, swinging wildly with the knife Solan insisted I carry, too afraid to use my rifle in such close proximity, but it’s not enough. One of the creatures knocks me off my horse with a swipe of its clawed paw, and I hit the ground hard, the air rushing from my lungs.
“Jamie!” I gasp, my vision spinning as I scramble to my feet. I see Calythra holding his own against two of the monsters, his movements quick and precise, but Jamie is cornered, his small frame dwarfed by the beasts.
Panic surges through me. I manage to break free from one of the monsters by swinging my fist at its face with all my strength. It recoils, but before I can shout for Solan, a sharp blow to my side sends me sprawling.
I don’t even get the chance to scream.
Then, just as suddenly as the attack began, a commanding voice cuts through the chaos.
“Enough!”
The monsters freeze, their snarls silencing as a figure steps into the clearing. She’s human—or at least, she looks human—her dark brown skin glowing faintly in the filtered sunlight. She’s tall and muscular, her braided hair pulled back, and she wears a hooded cloak that she lowers as she approaches. Her accent, unmistakably American and Southern, catches me off-guard.
“You’re safe,” she says, her voice firm but not unkind. “For now.”
I glare at her, blood trickling down my cheek. “Safe? Are you kidding me?”
She doesn’t flinch at my anger, her gaze steady. “We didn’t know who you were. You’re lucky we stopped when we did.”
Jamie looks at her with wide eyes, his fear giving way to awe. “Who are you?”
“Shanae,” she says simply, scanning each of us in turn. Her gaze lingers on Calythra, then on me. “Now, who the hell are you, and what are you doing here?”
