By the end of the afternoon, they decided to walk to a grove of trees in the field a couple hundred metres away. 

The weather was still good, but they weren’t sure if it would stay like that throughout the night. 

While the day had been tiring, the conflict had been so stressful they stayed awake into the deep night. And that proved fortunate, for the sky was clear and the stars were bright. 

So, they sat together, gazing up at the starry sky. The wheat and grass rustled in the winds, and yet the air seemed still and the cold gentle.

‘Can I ask you a question, Ma’an?’ Yorell asked as they lay on a flat boulder and rested their heads on their arms.

‘Of course, you can.’

‘Has it been difficult… to be on the road so long?’ he asked.

‘Of course. I think everyone longs for a place where they’re safe. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt safe… I suppose that’s why I want to leave this behind. There is no home here that could make me settle. I’m hoping in Manta there is. Manta, or whatever land we may enter – I don’t really care for its name.’

‘Do you feel safe at this moment?’

‘No… There are many things coming our way. But… Your presence certainly helps, Yorell. I appreciate your company more than you probably think.’

‘For the moment, I’m afraid I have been no more than a burden to you. You would have come a lot farther if not for the ordeal of this morning.’ Yorell sighed.

‘Thinking of what would have been is of no use, dear. This journey is not just for me anymore; it is for the both of us now, so I am more than willing to help you across your obstacles. If you want my thoughts on it, I’d say I would have gotten in a lot more trouble with those leeches. I would have tried going straight through the swamp if it weren’t for you, not knowing I would meet a river. I bet that would have taken a lot longer than what happened this morning.’ 

Yorell chuckled. ‘All right. Thank you. I just look forward to a day where it’s my turn to help you.’

‘I’m sure that day will be, and I will welcome your help. Let’s not think about danger for now. It’ll come when it comes.’

‘And yet something bothers you more than our pursuers. I can tell. You may be more cunning than me, Ma’an, but you’re not the only wizard here.’ 

Ma’an smiled at the stars. ‘Right… I’m not sure what it is, though, so it’s no use trying to explain. Just a weird feeling I’ve been having since we crossed the bridge.’

‘That’s what I thought. Don’t worry about it. The spirits won’t do us harm–’ 

Ma’an jerked up.

‘...?! Spirits…? This strong??’

‘Ah, are these the… spirits… you spoke of? They are in the fields, somewhere. They won’t harm us, I promise you. All they do is give you an unpleasant feeling.’

‘Yes, they must be Ziriü. Are they in the ground?’ Ma’an now scanned the fields lit by moonlight, as if he could see them.

‘They are. And they stay there. Stay calm, they’ve never done anything.’ Yorell lay a hand on Ma'an's shoulder. It worried him to see him so distressed all of a sudden.

‘They are… they are powerful, are they not?’ Ma’an said softly, and he sat down again.

‘Yes, they are.’

‘Do they have a name?’ Ma’an rested his head on his arms.

‘Not quite. No one knows how many there really are, but the story goes they are divided into three groups: Haywnat Tauttot, Setmoywn Himuotneytot, and Rhuys Mauneyntot. We are now nearest to the first, the spirits of the Taut Hill. The others are in the Moywn Valley and the Rhuys region, respectively. The Taut Hill is just up ahead. I’ve only seen it from afar, for foreigners are not allowed there,’ Yorell said.

‘Why not?’ Ma’an asked.

‘The households – the rulers of the port cities – forbid it. They believe it is sacred land reserved for the Dokians only. Letting in others would lead to disorder. I do not know if it’s true – most of the households are not even of ‘Dokian’ descent, whatever that may be. We should be fine if we cross the hills, as long as we do not disturb them. The problem would be Dokians themselves.’

‘I see. Do the Kosocians know of this?’ Ma’an asked.

‘I know what you’re thinking of, but they do. Kosocian ships come to the cities often and take stories home. They will not go into the hills, though perhaps they will for me.’ Yorell started to sound tired, not even the clear stars’ light could reach through the thicket of pine trees anymore and the campfire had almost been smothered. 

Temperatures took a dive below zero again and would keep falling well into the next day. Yorell’s pocket thermometer showed a minimum of -7 degrees Celsius.

Two days like this passed. Days of the two wizards walking through the fields at a leisurely pace. 

There was no sign of human life anywhere, for they were far from the nearest roads and the grass was so tall that they usually could not see over it. 

They still had to be careful, because sometimes the grass would open into a steep chasm made by a stream running through the land. While the water level was low and the soil hard and frozen, they had to be wary not to fall. 

They did not follow a particular path and just made their way through the ever-taller grass and bushes, relying mostly on Ma’an’s compass. 

The sky was cloudy again, but no rain or snow fell, and the wind was weak. Ma’an was uneasy, however, and that made Yorell just as troubled. 

The ground of the hills was unreliable. It moved slowly, almost unnoticeable but clearly. The ground seemed to flow like a still sea. It made them lose their balance sometimes, but they could not quite track the movement. 

It did not seem real. Perhaps it was something in the air, perhaps the water here had made them sick. 

He clearly felt the presence of those spirits. 

Ma’an did not dare to mention it to Yorell, as he had said nothing would happen. The spirits were friendly, he tried to remind himself, but if they were anything like the Ziriü at home, that was not true. 

He decided to focus on his steps. One wrong movement of the ground and he could slip on the squashy grass, so he had to keep paying attention, his eyes locked on his feet while his ears took in everything else around him. 

Faraway birds, splashes of water, and rustling of leaves. 

Apparently that was not enough.

Ma’an suddenly felt a piercing cold in between his shoulder blades. It was a cold he had not felt before, deep in his spine, as if freezing his bones. 

He gasped and fell forward into the grass. There was no real pain, just cold, cold in his veins spreading through his limbs. And he was gone. 

Yorell, who had walked just a couple metres ahead, did not even have time to react, for he underwent the same fate only mere seconds later.