Kael woke with the uneasy certainty that they were no longer alone.
It wasn't a sound that stirred him. It was the absence of one.
The night insects had gone quiet.
He lay still beside the low embers of their fire, eyes half-lidded, breathing slow the way Rothmar had drilled into him the night before. The ravine nearby yawned like a dark mouth, its depths swallowing moonlight. Frost clung to the rocks, turning them slick and pale.
Across the fire, Rothmar sat awake.
He was not looking at Kael.
He was looking into the dark beyond the trees.
"How long?" Kael whispered.
Rothmar didn't turn his head. "Minutes. Maybe less."
Kael's stomach tightened. "Hunters?"
"Yes."
Not bandits, then.
Kael pushed himself up carefully, ignoring the ache in his ribs and shoulder. His muscles protested, stiff and sore from the previous day's violence, but they obeyed. He reached for the knife automatically, fingers closing around the familiar shape.
"Did I make a mistake?" Kael asked quietly.
Rothmar glanced at him then, eyes sharp. "By surviving?"
"No," Kael said. "By leaving witnesses. The ones who ran."
Rothmar considered him for a moment. "No. If it hadn't been them, it would have been something else. This was inevitable."
Kael frowned. "Because of what I did?"
"Because of what you are," Rothmar said.
Kael opened his mouth to ask what that meant, but Rothmar raised a hand.
"Later," Rothmar said. "Move now."
They extinguished the fire without a word. Dirt over embers. Stones scattered. In moments, the camp vanished into nothing more than disturbed earth and footprints that Rothmar brushed away with deliberate care.
They moved along the ravine's edge, keeping low, using the terrain to break their silhouettes. The night air was sharp, cold enough to sting Kael's lungs. Every breath carried the metallic tang of fear.
They hadn't gone far when Kael heard it.
A soft crunch.
Not from behind.
From the slope ahead.
Kael stopped instantly.
Rothmar did not.
Rothmar walked three more steps before halting, his posture unchanged, as if he were simply admiring the view.
"Down," Rothmar murmured.
Kael dropped to one knee behind a cluster of rocks, heart pounding. He peered over the edge just in time to see movement along the ravine floor.
Figures.
Not many.
Three.
They moved differently from the bandits. No wasted motion. No careless noise. They flowed through the terrain with quiet confidence, spacing themselves carefully.
Hunters.
One of them stopped and crouched near the remnants of the camp.
Kael held his breath.
The hunter ran a gloved hand over the disturbed earth, then lifted it to his nose.
He smiled.
Kael's blood ran cold.
"They're tracking us by scent," Kael whispered.
"Yes," Rothmar said. "And by blood."
Kael swallowed. "Mine?"
"Yours," Rothmar confirmed. "And theirs."
The hunter straightened and signalled to the others. They began moving up the ravine slope—towards Kael and Rothmar.
Kael's mind raced.
Three wasn't many.
But these weren't desperate men with stolen blades. These were professionals.
"What do we do?" Kael asked.
Rothmar's eyes flicked to him. "What would you do?"
Kael hesitated. "Ambush?"
"Where?" Rothmar asked calmly.
Kael looked around. The rocks were sparse. The ravine offered limited cover. The hunters were approaching from below, forcing them uphill where movement was slower and visibility worse.
Kael's chest tightened.
"They've chosen the ground," Kael said.
"Yes," Rothmar replied. "That's the first lesson."
The hunters were halfway up the slope now.
Rothmar reached out and placed a hand on Kael's shoulder, gripping firmly.
"You will not win a straight fight against them," Rothmar said. "Not yet."
Kael nodded, pulse hammering. "Then we run?"
Rothmar's grip tightened slightly. "No."
Kael looked at him sharply.
"We separate," Rothmar said.
Kael's breath caught. "What?"
"They're after you," Rothmar said evenly. "Not me. If we stay together, they move cautiously. If we split, they'll commit."
Kael shook his head. "No. That's insane. You said—"
"I said you won't win a straight fight," Rothmar interrupted. "I did not say you couldn't survive one."
Kael's throat went dry. "You want me to fight them."
"I want you to learn what it feels like to be hunted by people who know what they're doing," Rothmar said. "I will intervene if you are about to die. Not before."
Kael stared at him, disbelief and fear twisting together. "You said you'd keep me alive."
"I am," Rothmar said. "But not by doing everything for you."
The hunters were close enough now that Kael could make out details—dark cloaks, light armour, blades worn smooth by use.
Rothmar released Kael's shoulder. "Go east. Use the rocks. Break line of sight. Think."
Kael's chest burned. He wanted to argue. To beg. To demand something—anything—that didn't involve being bait.
But there was no time.
Kael nodded once.
Then he ran.
He moved low and fast, boots scraping quietly against stone as he veered along the ravine's curve. Behind him, a sharp whistle cut through the night.
They'd seen him.
Kael didn't look back.
He vaulted over a fallen rock, landed hard, pain flaring in his ribs, and forced himself onward. His breath came fast and shallow. His muscles screamed in protest, but he remembered Rothmar's drills—pace, not speed; control, not panic.
An arrow hissed past his shoulder and shattered against stone ahead.
Too close.
Kael dropped and rolled, coming up behind a jagged outcrop just as another arrow struck where his head had been.
He pressed his back to the rock, heart slamming.
Footsteps approached.
One hunter rounded the stone, blade drawn.
Kael moved without thinking.
He kicked out low, catching the man's ankle and knocking his feet out from under him. As the hunter fell, Kael surged forward, driving his knife into the man's thigh—deep, disabling.
The hunter cried out, but Kael didn't stop. He twisted the blade and yanked it free, then scrambled away as the second hunter appeared, sword flashing in the moonlight.
Kael ran again, weaving through narrow gaps, forcing the hunter to follow single-file. He remembered Rothmar's words about terrain and felt a grim satisfaction as the hunter's longer blade clipped stone and sparks flew.
Kael spun suddenly and threw a rock, aiming for the face.
It struck the hunter's cheek, staggering him just long enough for Kael to slash across the man's forearm.
Blood sprayed.
The hunter snarled and advanced anyway.
Kael's fear surged—but so did something else.
Focus.
He feinted left, then darted right, driving his shoulder into the hunter's chest and sending them both crashing into the ravine wall. The impact knocked the breath from Kael's lungs, but the hunter hit harder, head snapping back.
Kael stabbed once—twice—then tore himself free and staggered back, chest heaving.
The hunter collapsed, alive but unmoving.
Kael stood there, shaking, knife raised, waiting for something else to happen.
A shadow moved behind him.
Kael spun—
—and barely managed to raise his arm as the third hunter's blade slammed into it. Pain exploded, white and blinding. Kael screamed, dropping to one knee as the knife fell from his numb fingers.
The hunter raised his blade for the killing strike.
A blur of motion crossed Kael's vision.
The hunter froze.
Then his head separated from his shoulders and hit the ground with a wet thud.
Rothmar stood behind him, blade dripping.
Kael stared, breath ragged, vision swimming.
Rothmar crouched beside him, gripping his injured arm firmly. "Stay with me."
Kael nodded weakly.
Rothmar bound the wound quickly, efficiently, his movements practiced. When he finished, he met Kael's gaze.
"You survived," Rothmar said.
Kael laughed faintly, the sound brittle. "Barely."
Rothmar's expression was unreadable. "Barely is enough."
Kael looked at the bodies scattered along the ravine, his chest tightening again.
"They found me," Kael said quietly.
"Yes," Rothmar agreed.
"And they'll keep finding me."
Rothmar nodded once. "Which is why you will keep learning."
Kael closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, something hard settling behind them.
"Then teach me faster," he said.
Rothmar's lips twitched, just slightly.
"That," he said, "was the correct response."