Another groan. She followed the noise to the village hall behind the square. A board had come loose under the eaves and seemed to be groaning in the wind.
As she turned back, a shadow darted across the square. This time, there was no mistaking what she was seeing--a dark shadow twisting and writhing as it skittered across the square.
Shadow stalker.
Her fingers tightened on her blade.
"Begone," she whispered. "By the power of the ancestors, I command you to leave. You trespass on blessed ground."
The shadow--smoke, fog, whatever it was--just kept twisting lazily, making its way across the square.
"Spirits," she whispered. "This is your home. Protect it."
The spirits didn't answer. When she went still and focused, she could find no trace of them.
It felt like the forest. Empty and dead. Dark and silent.
Moria broke into a run. The shadow made no move to chase her, just swirled off toward the forest. She raced across the rocky ground until her boots slid on something slick. She tried to catch herself, but she'd been going too fast and fell, hands out, dagger clinking against the rock. When she smelled and felt the warm dampness, she knew this was not berry wine.
Daigo circled, trying to get to her while staying clear of the blood, but it was everywhere. Like in the grove. The rocks were slick and wet with it. More pooled in every divot and dip. Finally, Daigo charged through, grabbed her cloak in his teeth, and pulled.
Moria got to her feet and looked around. Blood. So much blood. No other sign of anyone, anything.
She moved forward, sure-footed now, slower. A noise sounded to her right. She glanced over to see something dripping from the village hall roof. A body lay on it, one arm draped over the edge, blood dripping to the stones below.
"We have to get home," Moria whispered.
Daigo leaped forward, and Moria tore after him.
Where were the guards? The remaining garrison was supposed to be on alert, watching the forest. Where were they?
Gone. Dead. Whatever was in the forest had come, and the warriors' blades had been powerless to stop it.
The guards didn't even have time to sound the alarm.
She tried to understand that. There was a bell right at each guard tower. Within arm's reach. If they'd rung, though, she would have heard them even down in the cells.
As she raced past a house, she heard a moan. She looked over. The door was open. Through it, she could see a body on the floor. Someone was inside, alive, injured. Still, she didn't stop. She'd come back.
There was more blood ahead. Splashed over the road. Speckling the houses. She refused to process the implications, and let Daigo lead her through the village until, finally, she was home.
Thirteen
The front door was closed. She wanted that to be a good sign, but she knew her father might not have made it back at all. Perhaps he'd been at the meeting when . . .
She opened the door. Inside, the house was as still and silent as the village. Daigo edged past her, growling softly as if to say, I'll handle this. He bounded straight to the back of the house. To her father's bedroom.
Did he smell him there? Please, please, she begged the spirits. Let Daigo smell him there.
She raced through after the wildcat. In the near-dark, she could see a figure on her father's sleeping mat. Pale hair glistened on the pillow. She exhaled as relief shuddered through her.
Daigo let out a strange noise, like a strangled yowl.
"He's fine," she whispered.
She went to the chest and picked up the lantern, then fumbled in the dark with the flint and firestone. The lantern sputtered before casting its pale glow over the room.
Daigo yowled again.