40.

The next three days were grueling. The path twisted through dense woods and rocky outcrops, with little rest and even less conversation. The air grew stranger the farther they went—thick, oppressive, humming with unseen tension.

The village, when they reached it, was wrong.

Not at first glance. It had buildings, smoke rising from chimneys, and the faint scent of bread on the air. But the people were silent. Faces turned to watch them pass, expressionless, eyes following too long. Children didn't laugh. No dogs barked. It was as if the whole town breathed in unison—one, shallow breath at a time.

Kaelen felt the hair on his neck rise.

"Something's not right," Ariana whispered, her hand brushing the hilt of her dagger.

"No shit," Taryn muttered. "I've seen corpses with more life in their eyes."