Book One – Chapter 10

How did her wizard do it? How did he, with his disturbingly poor instincts and senses and close to no innate knowledge understand new things and new places and new enemies and new skills so well on his own, when he had been nothing but helpless as a —

       What did she see
when she was pushed out of the darkness?

Nothing. Midnight did not see the sprites’ attack coming, and it left no traces on her body.              

What did she feel?

She raced through expanding tunnels, ever-growing chambers and caverns that sprawled wider with each passing moment. The dank air grew heavy with moisture, the walls slick with condensation, and the breath more pronounced. The scent of snow, ice, and herbs hung thick in the air, signalling the presence of the frozen wilderness that shaped the southern reaches of the mountain, but also of witches. She felt the sprites on her back and the hunger of the shadebeast.

With each leap and bound, Midnight pushed herself to the brink, but no matter how fast she ran, no matter how skilfully she hurtled through the treacherous terrain, the ripping darkness kept up. He effortlessly maintained pace with her, as she twisted and turned for dear life, her hearth, breath, legs and thoughts racing. She slithered through confining passages, leaped across rock pools, and vaulted herself in and out of jagged crevasses within the caverns they crossed, sometimes doubling back for several sections when her darkness sense alerted her to narrow passages or dead ends ahead. Could he not close the gap between them? Was she always just out of reach, or was this more than hunting? Was he toying with her? Was he directing her? Where to? Why? — Too many questions, the wrong questions, for now.