Chapter 10 – Something Feels Wrong

The road out of Black Hollow was quieter than it should have been.

Delwyn's boots crunched over loose stone as she walked beside Vaelor, her cloak drawn tight against the wind curling through the valley. The smell of damp earth and burning wood lingered in the air, thick with the scent of too many people packed too close together.

The town behind them was still buzzing, but the further they moved from the crooked bridges and shadowed alleyways, the more uneasy she felt.

Tavrin had talked. But not enough.

She could feel it in her gut—a soldier's instinct, a survivor's warning.

She glanced at Vaelor, his expression as unreadable as ever. He must have felt it too, because he had said almost nothing since they left the tavern.

The dirt road twisted down through the cliffs, winding toward the open plains. The rebellion was at least two days south, and if they pushed hard, they could reach them before nightfall tomorrow.

But something wasn't right.

Delwyn let out a slow breath. "Tell me you feel it too."

Vaelor didn't stop walking. "I do."

She narrowed her eyes. "Then why aren't we turning around?"

"Because we don't have time," he said simply.

Delwyn exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. "Something doesn't add up. Tavrin was too eager to talk."

"He didn't have much choice," Vaelor pointed out.

She shook her head. "No. He should have stalled, played for time, tried to twist things in his favour. Instead, he handed us the information like it was already waiting on his tongue."

Vaelor frowned slightly but didn't argue.

Delwyn chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking.

The rebellion was in danger. That much was true. Galborn wouldn't just sit on his hands after her escape. If he knew where they were, he would crush them before they could rise against him.

But Tavrin's words had been too carefully placed, too neatly aligned with what they needed to hear.

"Either he was telling the truth," She murmured, "or he told us exactly what someone wanted us to believe."

Vaelor finally stopped walking. He turned his head slightly, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "You think it's a trap."

She sighed. "I think we're about to walk into one."

Vaelor watched her carefully. His expression didn't shift, but Delwyn could tell he was considering her words, weighing the risk.

Finally, he exhaled through his nose. "If it's a trap, we spring it on our terms."

Delwyn smirked. "Spoken like a true elf who enjoys getting stabbed."

Vaelor started walking again, forcing her to match his pace. "We don't have time to second-guess every lead. The rebellion is in danger. Whether or not Tavrin or Gareth played us, we won't know until we get there."

Delwyn rolled her shoulders, tension settling deep into her spine. He was right. Doubt was a luxury they couldn't afford.

She kept her gaze sharp, scanning the cliffs around them. The valley pass was tight, narrow enough to funnel an army into a choke point. The perfect place for an ambush.

They kept moving, following the winding road out of the Hollow and into the open wildlands.

Delwyn flexed her fingers, letting the cold bite at her skin. "We should assume they already know we're coming."

Vaelor nodded. "And assume they're expecting us to be unprepared."

She smirked. "I do love disappointing people."

****

Into the Wildlands

The road stretched into the vast, open plains. Golden fields swayed in the wind, rolling toward the distant tree line. The thick scent of pine and damp earth filled the air, carried on the cold autumn breeze. There was something beautiful about it.

But it was too quiet.

Delwyn's instincts had been screaming at her for hours now, but there was nothing—no sign of movement, no patrols, no watching and prying eyes.

That was worse than an ambush. It meant they were waiting.

Vaelor must have felt it too, because he finally spoke. "We should leave the road."

Delwyn didn't argue.

They cut west, slipping into the tall grass, moving parallel to the road but unseen. The ground was uneven, forcing them to keep low, keep quiet.

They travelled like that for an hour, pushing toward the distant forests where the rebellion was rumoured to be hiding.

Then—

A sound.

Distant, but there.

Delwyn stilled, grabbing Vaelor's arm. He stopped immediately, his eyes narrowing.

The wind shifted.

And in it, she heard it again.

Distant steel. A clash.

And then—a scream.

Delwyn and Vaelor exchanged a sharp glance.

The rebellion wasn't waiting for them.

They were already under attack.