“There,” Featherless spoke as they walked through the darkness of night, illuminated only by the torches in their hands and dull moonlight. Surrounded by the mountain range, Avald scarcely saw the moon, but tonight it was bright and full and yet, was still barely caressing the top of the peak. “Atop the mountain, you see it?” When they’d strode out into the open middle of the village, Featherless pointed to the mountain cliff and there, sure enough, was a darkened figure dressed in all black.

“Aye.” Aelif squinted, the shadowy figure barely illuminated by the moon. “What in Odingr’s name are they doing up there?”

“A Seidhan scout? Here for their assassin?” said Gilly.

“Damned if I know,” Featherless replied. “But watch this.”

Aelif watched as Featherless nocked an arrow, aiming right for the figure. It was unthinkable that an archer could make that shot, but Aelif knew better now than to doubt the skills of the raven-girl. Instead, she examined her, impressed by the way her muscles stiffened as she readied the bowstring back, the arrow gracing her lips. Then, she shot.

With a whip the arrow went flying through the air, slicing the light until it disappeared as a small fleck in the darkness. The figure atop the cliff simply stood and watched.

After a moment of nothing, Aelif turned to Featherless.

“You missed?” she asked, the question seeming wrong.

“I never miss, wolf-girl. Just wait.”

A moment later, the arrow came flying back, landing in half at their feet.

“Well,” Aelif sighed, turning to Erik—the scout who was still trembling with fear. “That is peculiar. I trust that you’ve fortified the outer walls with more warriors, then?”

“Aye,” he responded. “They’ve been at the ready for the last hour. Scouts are in the woods too, but none have seen draugar.”

Aelif’s ears perked at his response, her face flooding with a mild anger. “The last hour? What took you so long waking me up?”

“That would be my fault, wolf-girl,” Featherless spoke softly. “You needed the rest.”

Aelif’s jaw flexed with a well reserved anger. If she was to be the leader, she’d learn to speak milder than her father. “Next time, you do not listen to the Raven’s orders, you find me first.”

Erik nodded in response, looking about ready to piss his trousers. He was a thin man, his eyes constantly pulled into a terrified gaze. She thought of Samas and wondered if somehow a resigned anger might be scarier than aggression.

“Good,” she continued. “Now go. Make sure the guards watching the Seidha are still awake.”

“Right away,” Erik replied in a huff, and then he was off. Sheathing her bow, Featherless let out a low whistle, tutting softly. When Aelif turned to look, she saw she had a single eyebrow arched ever so slightly.

“You will make a good leader, wolf-girl.”

Featherless had a fox with her now, a copper-colored creature that stood around her legs protectively. It was a tiny beast, but looked as if it held the ferocity of a wolf. On her shoulder was a raven, perched with a glimmering onyx eye peering right at her. They were watching the mountain intently, as if trying to find a way to kill the figure from there.

Aelif strode closer, standing next to her to examine the cliffside as she did, then turned to look at her again. Their faces were close, Aelif seeing her hot breath puff into little clouds of steam against the bitter cold.

“Normally, I would welcome your little jests, but it will have to wait.”

“Aye,” Featherless replied dully, turning to look at her, too. “I agree.” Her eyes seemed sparked with desire, a strange savage excitement, but also masked with tiredness. She was still recovering from being wounded, but something deeper lingered within her emotions—something more sinister, more animalistic. Aelif could see it within the blues of her eyes.

“Look!” Gilly called out suddenly, pointing his finger to the mountaintop. “They’re moving!”

The boy was right. The figure was moving, raising their arms up as if they were clutching the moon within their hands.

“That’s not good,” Aelif said, a chill running down her spine.

With unheard words, the figure’s hands began to glow a strange purple, illuminating and filling the moon with the same color, until the moonlight had been completely darkened, snuffed out like a candle flame.

“Fuck. They plan to invade, then? Using the darkness as a cover,” Featherless said with a thread of excitement in her voice.

“Aye, but it’s more than that.”

“What?”

Aelif whistled for Thorn, muttering, “We haven’t finished burning the dead.”