The faint hum of the tracker's energy had long faded, but the air in the ravine still trembled as if holding its breath.
Every sound—the drip of water, the rustle of roots overhead—felt amplified, heavy with meaning.
Bennet and Kieran crouched in the half-dark, backs pressed against the cool stone. Their breathing was shallow, controlled, the silence between them louder than any roar as their assumed rest was brought short.
Bennet's eyes flicked toward the cave mouth.
"How much time before they find us?"
Kieran pressed a hand to the ground, his brow furrowed, feeling the faint tremor travel through his fingertips. "If it's the soldiers from the Defence Order of Nareth District," he began, his voice low and tense, "they won't take long. Their scouts move faster than most village forces—they'll be here in a half hour, not hours."
