Chương 102: The Wounded Forest

Leaving Hearthroot felt stranger than James expected. He had imagined the departure several times since the river spirit placed the Flower of the Seeking Current in his hands. In his head, it had been practical. Efficient. Packs checked, riders mounted, route chosen, orders given, then a clean ride into the eastern forest with the Cold Mistdrake Runners eating distance beneath their hooves. Reality had brought the whole village to the eastern path.

James sat atop his runner at the plateau's edge, fingers curled loosely in the creature's silver mane, and looked down at the people gathered around them. The morning sun had only just climbed over the trees, laying soft gold across the stoneheart wall and the roofs of the longhouses. Mana fireflies still lingered in the shaded places, reluctant to vanish. Smoke rose from the Hearth Hall.

The Heartroot Tree shimmered on its hill, golden leaves stirring though the air held little wind, and the Wellspring's waterfall sang behind the low murmur of the crowd. Every face turned toward them carried a piece of home. The travel party waited on the eastern path, six riders and one massive mana wolf. Selathi sat easily atop her Cold Mistdrake Runner, her Hearthguard armor fitted close enough to protect without hampering the lines of her bow.

The armor looked different on her than it did on the others, lighter around the shoulders, plates angled to allow the full draw of an archer. She had her bow across her lap and a quiver at her back, her posture calm and ready, as if riding a legendary spirit-beast into unknown territory was simply another morning's work. Kerrin wore a standard Hearthguard Harness, polished where his own hands had clearly checked every strap twice. His spear rested upright beside him, one hand around the shaft.

He had taken to riding better than James, though the set of his mouth suggested he considered every wobble a personal insult. Havlik wore the same armor, plus a shield strapped to his back and one of Dorgrun's new +5 attack emberblades at his side. He had somehow ended up on the largest runner of the group, a broad-chested, horned creature that regarded the village with solemn majesty and occasionally shifted just enough to make Havlik clutch the mane. The young Warden looked brave and terrified in equal measures.

Garet sat a few paces away, his new Hearthguard armor still strange on his body. A +5 attack sword hung at his side, though James suspected the man's real weapon would be the fire magic stirring in his core. He looked determined, pale, and repeatedly distracted by Livia. Finni, naturally, looked as if he had been born on the back of a Cold Mistdrake Runner.

He carried two short staves strapped across his back, and his mana wolf stood beside the runner with its head near Finni's knee, huge, silver-blue, and intensely offended by the concept of separation. The wolf had accepted the journey with the grim dignity of a creature who believed all roads were improved by its presence. James himself wore only his tunic, trousers, boots, belt, and traveling pack. Everyone else looked prepared for danger. James looked like a man who had misplaced his armor on purpose.

Several villagers had already asked whether he intended to leave without protection. He had explained that Aether Armament gave him armor and weapons when needed, which satisfied some and made others look as if they wished they could wrap him in Varn's harness anyway. He understood the impulse. If Rogan had been allowed to dress him, James suspected he would currently be wearing three layers of leather, a shield, and a nervous dwarf. The farewells had become little islands around the path.

Garet stood at the center of the largest one. Livia clung to him, her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed against his armor. She had tried to be composed at first. She had smiled, fixed the strap on his pack, and told him to listen to James, Selathi, Kerrin, Finni, the runner, common sense, and anyone else who sounded like they knew what they were doing. Then the moment came to step back, and her hands refused. Garet murmured to her, one hand in her hair.

"I'll come back," he said for perhaps the fourth time.

"You had better," she whispered. Ferrer stood nearby with both arms crossed and the expression of a man trying not to soften in public.

"Do as you're told, boy. Don't set the forest on fire unless someone clever tells you to." Renn gave a dry snort.

"If someone clever tells him to set the forest on fire, he should check if that person is James." James looked over.

"That feels unfair." Renn gave him a level look.

"You built a home for baby river spirits."

"That was diplomatic infrastructure."

"It had lily pads."

"It needed decoration!" Heath laughed. Ida dabbed at her eyes. Jaella had one arm around Livia's shoulders and another around Doanne, who stood nearby with the quiet pride of someone newly blessed. James had blessed Doanne at dawn, to the dismay of the Veinbound dwarf who had been next on Dagna's careful list. Dagna had handled the complaint with a single look and a sentence so calm that the dwarf had apologized to the grass.

Doanne had not gained a class or profession, but the blessing had revealed something clear. Handling Exotic Animals. The skill had settled over her like a key finding a lock. She had touched one of the runners afterward and burst into tears because, as she explained later, she could feel just enough of the creature's mood to know it was tolerating her on purpose. James had taken that as a promising start. His second blessing had gone to the waiting Veinbound.

That dwarf had gained a mining profession and two related skills, which had turned the earlier disappointment into a celebration and reminded James that every blessing mattered. Every day he was away meant a day without that touch, a day where another Veinbound waited with hope folded tight in both hands. He loathed leaving that behind. But the Flower of the Seeking Current bent toward the east even now, tucked safely into a reinforced leather tube at his belt.

It pointed to opportunity, and perhaps danger, and perhaps people who needed exactly the sort of unreasonable help Hearthroot had begun to specialize in. Selathi spoke quietly with Talar and Balin near her runner. Talar had one hand on his bow and the other on the runner's neck, his eyes narrowed as he offered advice she did not need but accepted anyway. Balin was more solemn, giving details about eastern routes, old game trails, and signs of mana beasts near rocky ground. Finni, meanwhile, stood beside Aelthirra.

That conversation seemed entirely too warm for Selathi's liking. Aelthirra held a small bundle of pale flowers tied with green thread.

"For the runner," she said, which would have sounded more convincing if she had looked at the runner even once while saying it. Finni accepted the flowers with his usual calm.

"Thank you."

"They smell pleasant," she added.

"Some animals settle when they smell them." Finni sniffed the bundle.

"They are good flowers." Aelthirra smiled. Selathi's head turned. James watched the moment with interest, then wisely looked away before he became involved in elven sibling politics. Tember, suspiciously, was nowhere in sight. The absence felt too deliberate. James expected either dramatic sulking or a terrible surprise later, and he was unsure which would be worse. Havlik and Kerrin had their own gathering.

The Wardens surrounded them, speaking over one another with the nervous affection of people sending friends into uncertainty. Maude checked Havlik's straps for the third time, tugging at the shield harness and then at the potion pouch at his belt.

"Health potion?"

"Yes."

"Mana potion?"

"I don't use mana."

"James may need one thrown at his head." Havlik blinked.

"That is a good point."

"Pulsepods?"

"Yes."

"Knife?"

"Yes."

"Spare cord?"

"Yes."

"Do you know where everything is?" Havlik gave her a strained look.

"I did before you moved half of it." Maude nodded, satisfied.

"Good. You are paying attention." Inna and Bren had made Kerrin their target. Bren leaned close with a grin.

"Careful with the new fire mage. He has a nice face. Women like nice faces." Kerrin's eyes flicked toward Garet, who was still holding Livia and looking very married, then away.

"I do not care about his face." Inna smiled sweetly.

"Of course. You are glaring at his boots."

"They are poorly tied."

"They are not tied at all. He has buckles." Kerrin tightened his grip on his spear. Bren's grin widened.

"Buckles. Dangerous things. No wonder you're concerned." James almost smiled, but his attention was dragged back to the council. Irla, Marla, Rogan, Thrain, and Dagna stood before him with varying expressions of patience. Or, in Marla's case, patience recently murdered and buried. James had repeated the instructions several times.

"Patrols stay close," he said again.

"No deep scouting unless Rogan approves it. The wall remains the priority. Guards at the stoneheart mine at all times. No exceptions. The mine is too important now, and with the forest changing..."

"James," Marla said. He continued, because stopping felt like admitting he was leaving.

"Potions need to be restocked. Irla, if training injuries start increasing, shut down Rogan's worst drills for a day. Rogan, the fallback points remain the Hearth Hall, then the longhouses, then the mine if everything goes wrong. Thrain, the stoneheart flow needs to continue, but no unnecessary risks in the mountain. Dagna, the blessing list..."

"James," Marla said again. He looked at her. She planted both hands on her hips.

"If you repeat the wall instructions one more time, Merrit is going to hear it from the southern gate and start crying." Rogan's mouth twitched. Irla covered hers with one hand. Thrain huffed.

"The boy worries like a mother hen with a hammer." Dagna squeezed Thrain's arm before he could continue. Marla stepped closer, her expression softening just enough that James felt worse.

"Go. We have work to do, and you have a road to ride. If you linger any longer, people will start making second breakfasts out of nervousness."

"That sounds productive."

"It sounds like more dishes." James looked past her to the village. The Hearth Hall. The Heartroot Tree. The wall rising around the plateau. The forge glow. The longhouses. The river beyond. The sanctuary where tiny water spirits now played under carved stone and lily pads. The village had become more than the desperate clearing he had first seen. It had become a place that could miss him. And he could miss it. The realization settled in his chest, heavy and warm. He patted his runner's neck.

The Cold Mistdrake Runner turned its head slightly, golden eye regarding him with something like impatience.

"Alright," James murmured.

"I know." Doanne stepped forward, face bright and solemn.

"Good luck, my lord." James smiled down at her.

"Take care of them while we're gone." She looked toward the remaining runners in the pasture beyond the eastern path.

"I will." Livia finally let go of Garet. He mounted again with visible reluctance, his runner blowing soft mist across his knees. The travel party gathered into a loose line. Villagers pulled back from the path. The mana wolf padded beside Finni, tail low and ears alert. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. James turned his runner to face the village one last time.

"Goodbye!" he called. Voices answered at once.

"Safe journey!"

"Come back!"

"Hearthroot!"

"Don't let him fall off!" That last one sounded suspiciously like Wicksnap. The runners began to move. They descended the eastern slope at a gentle pace, hooves whispering over stone and packed earth. The crowd followed a few steps, then stopped at the top of the incline. The plateau rose behind them, bright and alive. James looked back until the path curved and the village disappeared behind the slope. Then they were outside Hearthroot. The world felt wider at once.

James pulled the Flower of the Seeking Current from its tube. The crystallized water-bloom shimmered in his palm, translucent petals holding tiny currents within. Its stem bent immediately toward the east, steady and certain. He held it up.

"East." Selathi glanced over her shoulder.

"That matches the path for now." James tucked it away carefully.

"Everyone has full packs? Potions? Food? Water?" Havlik patted several pouches with the air of a man hoping Maude's rearrangement had improved reality.

"Yes." Kerrin nodded.

"Yes." Garet checked his pack for the third time.

"Food, water, two health potions, three mana potions, Pulsepods, bedroll, flint."

"Do not set the forest on fire," Kerrin said coolly. Garet blinked.

"I was not planning to."

"Good." James glanced between them. Finni's mana wolf barked suddenly. Havlik's runner jolted. The young Warden made a strangled sound and clutched the mist-silver mane with both hands. His shield bounced on his back. The runner turned its head just enough to look offended by his lack of dignity. James narrowed his eyes at the wolf, then at Finni.

"Did you really have to bring him?" Finni looked back calmly.

"He is my pet. Of course he is coming wherever I go." The wolf wagged its tail once, pleased by the title. Selathi's eyes flicked toward Finni.

"How touching. The wolf, at least, has taste in companions." Finni considered that. Then he nodded.

"Thank you." Selathi stared at him. James looked forward quickly before he laughed where she could see it. They passed the mine first. The guards there stood straighter when the travel party approached. Elven archers watched from the trees, and two dwarves paused about to enter the tunnels. The guards called good fortune to them as they rode by, and the runners answered with snorts of mist and proud indifference. Soon after, the forest swallowed them. The change came gradually.

Hearthroot's influence did not end like a wall. It thinned. The air lost the layered warmth James had grown used to, the constant presence of the anchors fading behind them. Mana Resonance still stretched through the forest, but it felt less rich, less alive with overlapping currents. The roots beneath the ground no longer hummed with Hearthroot's pulse. The air tasted like ordinary green, damp earth, and distance. James looked around.

"We really haven't explored much of the eastern forest," he said. Kerrin rode a little ahead of him, spear angled across his lap.

"This is the direction we came through before reaching the clearing. Farther east, near the mountains, there were some tribes. Not many deeper in the forest. Mostly beasts, animals, and places we avoided." Selathi rode at the front, her eyes scanning between trunks.

"Hearthroot lies on the eastern side of the greater forest. The west stretches much farther." James frowned.

"So we are closer to the edge than I realized."

"In a sense," Selathi said.

"Though forests do not care for edges as humans draw them."

"I wish we had a proper map," James said.

"The whole area, ideally. Maybe even the continent." Garet looked at him, brows drawing together.

"The continent?" James glanced over.

"Where I come from, the world was divided into huge landmasses separated by seas. Continents. I don't know if Vaelrin works the same way, but I'd like to know the shape of things." Garet stared. His mouth opened slightly. James smiled.

"Right. Forgot that's strange." Kerrin smirked.

"We still have the goblin map from the camp."

"That shows a small part of the forest," James said.

"And it shows it through goblin priorities. Camps, hunting routes, places to raid, maybe symbols we don't fully understand. Useful, but I don't trust it as geography." Garet kept looking at him.

"Separated by seas."

"Yes."

"Masses of land so large you name them."

"Pretty much." Garet shook his head slowly.

"Hearthroot is a strange place."

"You have been there for a handful of days."

"I stand by it." Lumen, who had been quiet for some time, brightened beside James's shoulder.

"Can you feel it?" James turned inward, toward Mana Resonance. The familiar was right. The mana continued to thin the farther they traveled from Hearthroot. It had been subtle at first, like leaving a warm room and only later realizing the air had cooled. Now the difference became undeniable, the ambient world around him felt less eager to answer.

"Huh," James murmured.

"You're right." Selathi looked back.

"What did Lumen say?"

"Mana levels are dropping as we move away from Hearthroot." She grew thoughtful.

"We grew used to the mana being high. The village changed so much that ordinary forest feels thinner now." Garet nodded slowly.

"When we first reached Hearthroot, my fire magic felt like it sighed in relief." James looked at him. Garet seemed embarrassed but continued.

"Before that, it felt tight. Like a flame cupped in wet hands. In the village, it grew warmer. Easier to touch. I thought it was because I was safe."

"That probably helped," James said. Lumen drifted nearer.

"The Emberforge's fire confluence is a likely factor. Forest environments are usually rich in life and water aspects, often poor in stable fire-aspected mana. Hearthroot now contains a strong fire anchor. Fire mages would find progress easier there." James absorbed that. Hearthroot could become a haven for fire mages. That was a thought. A dangerous one, perhaps, if other settlements feared magic like Ashbrook. Or a powerful one, if people like Garet and Estin needed somewhere their gifts could breathe.

James smiled at Garet.

"You're lucky, then. Hearthroot will literally help you grow stronger." Garet blinked.

"So by the end of the month, I expect you to be hurling fireballs at goblins." Garet went pale.

"Fireballs?" Kerrin scoffed.

"Will we chat all day, or use the mistdrakes for what they can actually do?" The words came cold enough to make Havlik glance over. James looked at Kerrin for a moment. There it was again. The edge. The stiff posture. The way Kerrin had been eyeing Garet since the departure. Kerrin had always been one of Hearthroot's promising young warriors, disciplined, strong, admired. Now Garet had arrived with handsome confidence, a wife everyone adored, fire magic, and a place in the travel party after only a few days.

James nearly chuckled. Then he saw the tightness in Kerrin's jaw and decided kindness would serve better than amusement.

"Alright," James said, threading his fingers gently through his runner's silver mane.

"Let's see how fast these magnificent, noble, and slightly snobbish creatures can run." His runner's ears flicked. James leaned closer.

"Go." The runner bolted. This time, James did not scream immediately, which he thought of as progress. The Cold Mistdrake Runner shot forward between Selathi's and Finni's mounts, body flowing beneath him like a wave given legs. The others followed a breath later. Behind him, Havlik screamed with such raw sincerity that several birds exploded out of a nearby tree. The forest became speed. The runners wove between trunks as if they had learned every secret path before the trees had finished growing.

Roots seemed to slide beneath their hooves without catching. Branches passed close enough to brush sleeves and hair, yet never struck. Moss, damp earth, fallen leaves, shallow streamlets, and stone patches all blurred into one long ribbon beneath them. James leaned low, gripping the mane with controlled terror. Wind tore through his hair. The flower tube bounced against his belt. Lumen kept pace beside him as a glowing streak, his voice wisely silent for now.

Selathi rode ahead, effortless, guiding her runner with small shifts of weight. Finni was beside her, of course, calm as a carved saint while his mana wolf raced below through the undergrowth with its tongue lolling happily. Garet adapted well, hands tight at first, then loosening as the runner's rhythm caught him. Kerrin looked focused and determined, refusing to appear impressed.

Havlik bounced at the back, large runner carrying him with dignified power while Havlik held on like a man who had made peace with several gods and found them all unhelpful. The runners moved like water choosing the fastest route downhill. They crossed a shallow stream without slowing, hooves throwing silver spray. They passed strange glowing flowers tucked under old roots, each bloom shaped like a tiny lantern with green flame inside.

A cluster of mushrooms taller than Garet loomed to their right, caps pale and veined with purple. A pond flashed between trees, reflecting stars despite the sun overhead. James twisted to look back at it, then almost lost balance and decided future investigation could wait. They streaked beneath an old stone arch half-swallowed by ivy, though no road ran beneath it. Beyond that, a low ruin crouched under moss, only three broken walls and a tilted pillar visible among brambles.

Later, they passed the collapsed remains of a narrow tower, stone ribs wrapped in vines, its top lost somewhere beneath a canopy of leaves. James marked each place in his mind. Future scouting. Future maps. Future headaches. They rode for a long time. Long enough that exhilaration thinned into discomfort. His backside began to ache. His legs cramped from holding a posture his body had never been trained to endure. His hands stiffened in the runner's mane.

The first rush of speed faded, and the practical truth of travel returned, even magical riding was still riding. He opened his mouth to call for a halt. Finni's runner stopped abruptly. The rest overshot him by several yards before Selathi called, "Stop." They circled back. Finni had already dismounted. He stood beside his runner, head cocked, eyes unfocused. His mana wolf paced around him, ears back and nose low to the ground. The boy's hands hung loose at his sides, but his whole body seemed to listen.

James slid down from his runner with only minor awkwardness. Selathi dismounted beside him, bow already in hand.

"Finni?" James asked. The teenager did not answer. Selathi stepped closer.

"What is it?" For a long moment, the forest seemed to hold its breath. Then Finni spoke. His voice was rougher than usual, distant and layered, like leaves dragged across bark by wind.

"The forest is wounded." The mana wolf whined and pressed its head against his thigh. Finni shivered.

"Infected." Garet climbed down from his runner, face pale.

"Does he do that often?" Selathi raised one hand sharply without looking at him. Garet closed his mouth. James kept his eyes on Finni.

"What do you mean infected?" Finni's gaze remained fixed somewhere beyond them, beyond the visible trees.

"Something dark drinks from the roots and gives nothing back. It wears the shape of life and hollows it. The green remembers what it was, but the memory is being eaten." A cold line moved down James's spine. Selathi's face had gone still in a way that frightened him more than alarm would have. James looked at her.

"Do you know what he means?" She shook her head slowly.

"No. But Finni is touched by the forest. If he says something is wrong, I believe him." Havlik swore under his breath.

"Another threat on our doorstep?" James looked back toward the direction of Hearthroot, though the village was far behind trees and distance now. The eastern forest had seemed quiet. Too quiet. He had thought that before. Now the quiet felt less like peace.

"Can you tell us anything else?" he asked. Finni blinked. His eyes focused. The roughness left his voice, and when he looked at James, he seemed smaller again. Young and troubled.

"It feels like a disease I don't know how to cure," he said. James exhaled. He wanted to push. Wanted answers, direction, a target. Something to fight, build, cleanse, or avoid. Instead, he looked at his people and saw unease in every face.

"We break here," he said.

"Eat. Drink. Stretch. Then we keep moving." No one argued. They sat in a loose circle beneath tall trees, the runners grazing nearby with more calm than James felt. The mana wolf lay close to Finni, head on paws, though its eyes kept scanning the forest. They ate travel bread, dried meat, and a handful of berries.

"This tastes like someone threatened a bean with flavor and the bean won," Garet muttered. Kerrin looked at him.

"Eat it."

"I am eating it."

"You are judging it."

"I can do both." Garet gave a faint smile, but the humor did not last. The forest around them had changed, or perhaps Finni had made them aware of what already waited. Birdsong sounded distant. The air felt cooler under the canopy. James checked the Flower of the Seeking Current once before they mounted again. The stem still pointed east. They rode on. As the day stretched toward afternoon, the forest grew worse. At first, James thought it was only mood. After Finni's words, every shadow looked deeper.

Every silent branch seemed intentional. Then the signs became too clear to dismiss. There were fewer birds. The leaves had a dull cast, many of them clinging to branches long after they should have fallen or grown fresh. Some trees twisted around themselves in gnarled spirals, bark split open in dark seams like old wounds. Webs began to appear between low branches, thin at first, then thicker. Pale strands caught the light in flashes, stretched from bush to bush, root to root, trunk to trunk.

Mana Resonance gave him a sour taste. Something subtle lingered ahead, stagnant and draining, like a place where life remained upright while its brightness slowly leaked away. They saw a fox near a hollow log. Its coat was grey and patchy, its ribs too visible. Its eyes looked glassy. When it saw them, instead of springing away with animal quickness, it stared for a moment, as if remembering fear, then slunk into the hollow. Garet whispered, "That's wrong." Selathi nodded once. The runners had grown tense.

Their proud heads remained high, but their ears flicked constantly. The mana wolf growled more often, low and soft. Finni said little. His hands stayed on his short staves. The forest began to resemble something from a child's warning tale. The kind where an old hut sat somewhere deep in the trees, and smoke rose from its chimney because something inside liked children boiled tender. James hated that his mind supplied the image so easily. They stopped twice more. Neither stop felt restful.

At dusk, the Flower of the Seeking Current drooped. James held it up and watched the petals soften, the stem losing its directional bend as the last light thinned through the trees.

"Apparently we stop for the night," he said. No one looked happy.

"We could continue a bit longer," Kerrin said. Selathi studied the darkening trees.

"In this place? Without guidance?" Kerrin's mouth tightened. James shook his head.

"We camp. Close together. No fire." Garet looked at him.

"I can start one safely."

"I know." James looked around at the webs, the gnarled branches, the unhealthy silence.

"I have a bad feeling that fire will draw things we do not want to meet." Garet swallowed and nodded. They found a small clearing. It was open enough to see the trees around them and flat enough to rest. The runners were allowed to roam nearby, though they remained close, their agitation visible in the flick of tails and constant shifting. The mana wolf circled the clearing twice before lying near Finni, head raised. They ate cold food in silence. No one complained. That said enough.

Selathi eventually stood and moved a few paces away, setting her pack beneath a tree as a pillow. As she lifted one boot to settle down, she grimaced.

"Ugh." James looked over. A thick web clung to the bottom of her boot, silver-grey and sticky. She used a stick to scrape it away, face wrinkling with distaste.

"There are webs everywhere," Havlik muttered. Kerrin took first watch, spear in hand, pacing at the edge of the clearing. Selathi lay down with her bow within reach. Havlik settled close to James and began snoring with impressive speed. Garet lay stiffly on his bedroll, clearly awake. Finni rested against the mana wolf's side, one hand buried in its fur. James lay on his back and looked at the stars. The sky above the clearing was narrow, framed by crooked branches. Stars glittered coldly through the gaps.

He tried to let their steadiness calm him. It did little. His mind kept returning to Finni's voice. The green remembers what it was, but the memory is being eaten. What did that mean? A curse? A beast? A corrupted node? Some lingering effect from old calamities? Another settlement's mistake? The river spirit had sent him toward a place in trouble, and now the forest itself seemed sick along the route. He rolled onto his side with a sigh. His hand caught on a web.

"Damn it," he muttered. He tried to pull free gently. The web clung. He tugged harder. The strands stretched but did not break. They wrapped around his fingers, sticky and strong, silver in the moonlight. James froze. Through the web around his hand, he felt a vibration. Faint at first. Then stronger. A tremor traveled along the strand, into his skin, down the line anchored somewhere beyond the clearing. Another tremor answered from a different direction. Then another. Something large moved through the web.

James sat up slowly. His eyes adjusted to the moonlight. The clearing had a shape. He saw it then. The trees around them curved in a rough ring, their branches connected by strands that had looked like stray webs in the dark and exhaustion. Silver lines stretched between trunks, bushes, roots, and low stones. A fence of web. A net. The open ground where they lay was the center of it. They had camped in a trap.

"Guys?" James said quietly. Havlik snored. Selathi sprang to her feet instantly, bow in hand, an arrow already half drawn.

"What is it?" James yanked his hand hard. The web tore free at last, snapping with a sound too loud in the stillness.

"I think we are about to get attacked," he said. Garet jerked upright.

"What?"

"Everyone wake up." Aether Armament answered his call. Mana flowed over James's body, forming armor in blue-white light, plates shaping around shoulders, chest, arms, and legs. The familiar weight settled over him, comforting and terrible. His hand lifted, and mana gathered into a massive greatsword, the blade bright enough to paint nearby webs in cold light. Kerrin rushed back from the edge of the clearing, face tight.

"I saw nothing."

"The webs," Selathi said, voice low. She saw it now too. Havlik scrambled upright, blinking, then grabbed his sword and shield. Garet stumbled to his feet, red mana flickering weakly around one hand as sleep fled him. Finni rose in a smooth motion, both short staves in hand. The mana wolf stood beside him, hackles rising, a growl rolling out into the darkness. The runners tossed their heads, mist curling from their nostrils.

They pulled against strands James had not seen before, thinner webs catching low around bushes and trunks, making the clearing's edges dangerous. Lumen brightened beside James's shoulder.

"James," the familiar whispered.

"It is here." James felt it through Mana Resonance. A presence moved beyond the nearest ring of trees. Large. Hungry. Patient. Its mana was thin and sour, wrapped in strands of predatory stillness. The web vibrated with each step, silver threads trembling as something descended from the dark branches. James turned toward it. His greatsword brightened.

"Guys," he said, eyes fixed on the darkness, "have I ever told you I hate spiders?" The web ahead shivered. Something enormous shifted between the trees. James raised the blade.

"Let's hope this one is vegetarian."