Dydra didn't slow down, the urgency in her chest driving her horse forward as fast as the animal could manage, but suddenly a powerful gust of wind slammed into her from the side, nearly knocking her off balance. Instinctively, she pulled the reins tight, forcing the horse into a sharp halt as the air around her swirled violently, leaves and dust spiraling upward in a sudden, unnatural current. Amid the rushing wind, a whisper threaded through the noise, faint but unmistakable.
"They're after you, Dydra. Take cover in the woods."
Her breath caught as she recognized the voice immediately. Oryen.
Without hesitation, she turned the horse sharply off the road and guided it into the dense forest, branches scraping against her arms and clothes as she pushed deeper between the trees. Her heart pounded wildly, adrenaline still flooding her veins from the encounter in the town, but beneath the fear was relief—Oryen had warned her. That meant the old witch was safe. Or at least alive.
