Reyn shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t need to.” Arcannen stepped over to the door, drawing the boy after him. “The weather warmed during the night, and the rains stopped. The mist is so thick you can barely see your hand in front of your face. I don’t know what we will find out there. I don’t know how many of these intruders there are or where we will encounter them. So it would be better to keep moving rather than staying in one place. We may become separated. I will try not to let that happen.”

He paused. “Just remember. If you get in trouble and I can’t reach you, don’t panic. Use your wishsong. Do whatever you must to protect yourself. I don’t like having to ask this, but life doesn’t always give us the choices we would prefer.”

The boy hesitated. “When this is over, will you continue to help me learn about the magic and not give up on me?”

“Give up on you?” Arcannen laughed softly. “I never had any intention on giving up on you. Never. No matter what happens, I will be there to see you through this.”

He gripped the boy’s arm and pulled him close. “Are you ready?”

Reyn nodded.

Arcannen raised the heavy crossbar and threw the locking bolts on the door leading out. A wall of heavy gray fog, thick and swirling, greeted them as they went through.

Elsewhere in the nearly impenetrable soup, Mallich was leading his hunters in their search of the ruins. He paid no attention to the wards that might be in place now, made no effort to hide their arrival. The plan was simple—find their quarry, corner it, and kill it. With the oketar doing the tracking and the crince given over to The Hammer’s care (it mostly required sheer strength to control the beast), the outcome was a foregone conclusion. Arcannen, Mallich believed, would try to escape rather than stand and fight. That effort would fail because the animals would find him wherever he went, corner him, and bring him down. Even if they couldn’t, the men would be there to finish the job. Simple enough.

Usurient wasn’t so sure.

He trailed the others, doing what he had promised himself he would do—hanging back to let his companions manage the killing so he would be free to clean up the mess when things were over and done with. He was far less convinced than the others about how easy this would be or what their chance of success was. The others were confident in their strength and experience as predators, but the Red Slash Commander was equally convinced of Arcannen’s uncanny ability to survive. He had seen it before, when the odds were far greater than now. The sorcerer had a gift for detecting traps and turning them back on those who set them. He was not at all sure it would be any different here.

His sole source of comfort came from the weapon he had concealed beneath his Federation army jacket—a handheld flash rip rapid-fire that could bring down an entire squad of attackers in seconds. It was the newest development in the Federation efforts to expand their military capability, the weapon of the future that would eventually put the Federation atop all the other nations and Races. He had one because he had managed to bargain for it a few years back—by which he meant he had used blackmail and threats against a weapons developer. Not very fair of him perhaps, but very effective when you wanted something as badly as he had wanted this weapon.

His eyes fixed for a time on the crince, watching as it slouched along on the far end of The Hammer’s chain. The beast was incredibly ugly—a huge, misshapen animal possessed of a massive body and thick, heavy limbs. Its head hung so low to the ground it seemed to be dragging. It was not intelligent; its senses were not keen. But once it locked on the prey it was sent to find, there was no stopping it. A crince would go right through a wall of spears to get its jaws on a kill. Even if damaged. Even if dying. You could stop it by dismembering it or cutting off its head, but with an animal of this size and ferocity coming at you, who had time for that?

He pictured it with its jaws around Arcannen’s smug face and found momentary pleasure in the image.

Bael Etris skittered up to him from one side—a teasing, taunting gesture—then darted away. He kept glancing at Usurient, an open promise of what he would like to do to him mirrored in his dark eyes. Usurient knew he would have to watch the other closely. If he gave the little vermin half a chance, he would find his throat slit. But he had dealt with men like Etris before, mindless killers with no discernible moral code and no respect for authority. He knew how to keep them at bay while making use of them.

Which wouldn’t be for all that long in this instance. Etris would be the first one he would dispose of when this was over.

Ahead, Mallich slowed. They were at the edge of the ruins now, close to where the real search would begin. The hunter stood waiting for the others, motioning them closer before speaking.

“We split up here. Two groups.” His voice was a whisper. “Hammer with me, Etris with Usurient. The animals go with me. Hammer and I will come in from the land side; Bael and Dallen will go in from the coast. There’s got to be ways in and out of whatever remains of the village, passageways carved into the rock. That’s where the sorcerer will be. If he doesn’t come out to meet us, we find one of those ways and go in after him. Mostly, we have to keep him in front of us. We don’t want him to slip out and get around behind us.”

“Or escape us altogether,” Usurient added. “If he does, he will come hunting us like we hunt him.”

“He’s already hunting you, though, isn’t he?” Bael Etris sneered.

Usurient glared at him. “Something you’re going to put a stop to if you want to get paid.”

“Oh, that’s right. I’m supposed to save you. I wonder why that doesn’t much interest me?”

Mallich gave him a look. “Enough. There will be a door hidden somewhere on the coast side. If you find it, go in. Kill everyone. Don’t stop to think about it.”

“Don’t you worry.” Etris was still looking at Usurient. “I know how to kill a man better than most.”

“Let him go on his own,” Usurient said suddenly. “I’ll stay with you.”

Mallich started to object, then thought better of it. He sighed wearily. “All right. You come with me and Hammer. Let’s be quick about this. Remember. If Arcannen gets the upper hand, we won’t live out the day.”

They separated then, Bael Etris peeling off from the others and disappearing into the gloom. The other three stood watching for a minute, then Mallich beckoned. They started forward into the ruins, spreading out as they went. They kept one another in sight, although Usurient, on the far right, at times lost sight of The Hammer, on the far left. He kept Mallich in view because he was the one who mattered. The oketar roamed ahead, straining against their leashes, noses to the ground, sniffing at rocks and debris. As hunters they were without peer, but they were killers, too. The urge to engage and take down prey was instinctive, and if there were living creatures anywhere nearby, they would find them.

Usurient peered into the haze doubtfully. He couldn’t see a thing. It would have been better if they had gone in last night in the pouring rain rather than risk an encounter in this fog. Maybe they should have waited. But he knew that wasn’t possible with these men. Waiting wasn’t something they would tolerate. He picked his way through the rocks cautiously, trying not to make any sound, grateful for the roar of the ocean in the background, hiding everything in its white noise.

Then, abruptly, something appeared in the gloom ahead of them.

As they left their shelter and stepped out into the mist and gloom, Arcannen leaned close to Reyn. “Don’t try to see in this fog. Try to hear. The ocean doesn’t muffle sound as much as it might seem.”

Reyn nodded. It seemed to him that the ocean crashing against the rocks drowned out everything, but he did his best to try to hear through it. Arcannen was moving ahead, wrapped in his dark cloak, head bent to the rubble. The boy followed, working hard at keeping upright on the slippery rocks, watching his footing carefully so he wouldn’t fall. He was thinking hard about the images he would need to create, the distraction he would need to cause. Perversely, he found himself wishing he had never put himself in this position—even if it had meant giving up his lessons in learning to control the magic. But he couldn’t have stood losing Lariana. She mattered too much to him. She was the real reason he stayed with Arcannen. To keep her close, he would have endured almost anything.