“No!” She clutched his arm tightly. Her breathing was short, gasping. Every part of her screamed to run.
He saw the look on her face and sobered. “Remember the trail we found years ago, leading up the mountain? Dragon Pass, we named it. There was that stump that we fancied was a dragon’s skull. You go up there and I’ll wait here. I’m a good shot, Phae. I can handle this.”
She shook her head adamantly. “We need to go, Trasen. Now. Come on.” Phae scrambled down off the rocks.
Trasen waited a moment longer, staring at the cabin. “He’s coming after us. He’s not even pausing to look at tracks.”
“Come on!”
The two began winding their way up the mountainside. It was steep, the trail overgrown with thick green vegetation and mossy boulders. The trees were thicker now, crowding together to block the vision of their pursuer. Phae’s heart started to calm once they began moving again. She felt slightly better, though still panic-stricken. The path ran up and back, winding sinuously along the steep edge. Sweat came easily now and she was no longer chilled by the morning air. Phae had assumed they would have several days together before Winemiller showed up. Something was terribly wrong.
The trees whipped by as they hurried up the hillside. It rounded and leveled off slightly, exposing a small grove of trees. She recognized the place immediately as it was always a favorite haunt during the family trips to the cabin. She could not recall which of them had discovered it first, but part of her was comforted when she saw the large misshapen tree stump, whose gnarled roots were shaped like a dragon’s head.
They paused there, resting a bit, trying to catch their breath.
Trasen’s neck was gleaming with sweat. He bent over, huffing, and stared back down the trail.
Phae began pacing. The feelings were coming back again, stronger than ever. Every moment resting was a danger. “We can’t stay here.”
“You’re right,” he said, staring. “I hear him.”
Phae jerked around and then she too heard the trod of boots coming up the trail after them. A moment later, the figure appeared around the bend, cloaked, veiled, and relentless.
Fear nearly made her scream.
“Go,” Trasen said, dropping to one knee next to the stump. He turned the quiver over and spilled the shafts on the ground next to him. In a fluid motion, he fit one to the string and raised the bow. “I will find you. Just start running. Change directions often. Try to throw him off. Cross water when you can. Go!”
“I can’t leave you…”
“Don’t be a fool,” he said. “He’s after you, not me. Now, go!”
Phae’s conflicted feelings made her nearly refuse. But the presence of the stranger struck terror in her soul. She kissed Trasen’s hair and then rushed away from the grove and plunged into the woods.
Moments later, she heard the bow twang and a shaft thud into a tree, then Trasen’s voice. “That was a warning, friend. Keep following us, and the next one won’t miss.”
Her legs burned with the effort. Her chest heaved for air. There was another thrum from Trasen’s bowstring.
The sound of the arrow thumped as it struck something solid. Not a tree.
“I got him,” Trasen shouted. “He’s down.”
Part of her feelings surged with relief, but the black cloud of fear had not left her. She noticed several insects buzzing around her. Birds were chirping at her as well. It felt as if the entire forest was alive and heckling her to run.
“You got him?” she called back, stopping. Instead of relief, she still felt intense worry.
“I was aiming for his leg, but I hit him in the chest. He walked right into it. Collapsed. I’m going to search the body.”
Phae stopped, leaning back against a tree, trying to calm her heart but unable to. The conflict inside her raged on. She could not leave Trasen behind. He was her best friend. She should not have doubted his aim. Yet why did she feel such irrational terror? Why were her feelings screaming at her that the danger had not passed? She pushed away from the tree, head spinning with confusion. She started back down the trail to him.
She watched Trasen approach the body, another arrow nocked and ready. He was being careful. His boots were nearly soundless despite the brush and needles carpeting the area. Their pursuer was crumpled nearby. Where was the arrow? She could not see the arrow sticking out of him. At that close range, the tip should have been poking out his back.
As she was about to call out in warning, Trasen reached the body.
The stranger moved like a serpent striking a mouse. He was lying still for a moment and then suddenly Trasen’s bow and arrow were jerked from his hands and tossed aside. The stranger was on his feet again, unharmed. It had been a trap.
“Trasen!” she screamed.
“Run!” he yelled back, yanking the short axe from his belt. He swung it expertly, defensively, driving toward the cloaked man with every intent to kill him.