The corpse remained behind them, silent and unmoving, even as the wind pulled at the blackened grass around it like invisible fingers.
Argolaith didn't look back.
Neither did the others.
Whatever had killed the strange creature had done so cleanly—and left the remains as a message. Whether it was a threat or a warning, none of them could say. But Argolaith knew one thing as they pressed forward:
The forest was no longer waiting.
It was leading.
Only an hour passed before the terrain began to change again.
What had once been winding, uneven trails through tangled brush became smoother, narrower. Vines drew back. Branches rose. The trees themselves shifted ever so slightly—angled in ways that, when studied closely, all leaned in one direction.
They converged toward a path.
Straight.
Unbroken.
Too clean.
Kaelred stopped walking. "Okay. Does anyone else see that?"
Malakar's cloak whispered as he moved to the edge of the new trail. His glowing eyes traced the length of it.
