The fire had burned down to embers when I woke to the sound of Mother humming. It was an old lullaby, one she used to sing when fevers kept me awake as a child. The familiarity of it wrapped around me like a second blanket.
I propped myself up on one elbow. Mother sat cross-legged by the ashes, sharpening her bone-handled knife with slow, practiced strokes. The whetstone whispered against the blade in time with her song.
"You should sleep,"I murmured.
She didn't look up. "Someone needs to listen for the hounds."
A cold trickle ran down my spine. "What hounds?"
The knife stilled. "Agatha's. Three shadow-mastiffs, according to Hesta. They track by broken oaths." Her eyes met mine in the dim light. "And yours is freshly shattered."
I sat up fully, the blanket pooling around my waist. The rain had stopped, leaving the forest preternaturally quiet. Too quiet. No owls. No rustling creatures. Just the occasional drip of water from the leaves.
"How long do we have?"
Mother tilted her head, listening to something beyond my hearing. "Dawn. Maybe sooner."
I reached for my boots. "Then we move now."
---
We traveled light, leaving the makeshift camp behind. Mother led the way, her steps silent on the damp earth. I followed, trying to match her ghost-footed grace, but every snapped twig sounded like a gunshot to my ears.
"Where are we going?" I whispered as we skirted a moonlit clearing.
"South," she said simply. "To the salt marshes."
I nearly stumbled. "The Wailing Fens? That's...
"The last place Agatha would look," Mother interrupted. "And the only place where shadow-mastiffs lose a scent."
I swallowed my protest. The Fens were treacherous, quicksand and will-o'-the-wisps that led travelers to drown, not to mention the fen-witches who made Agatha look kindly. But Mother's jaw was set in that stubborn line I knew better than to argue with.
A howl cut through the night.
Distant, but unmistakable.
Mother went still as stone. "Run."
---
We ran like spirits, dodging low branches and leaping rotting logs. The howls came again—closer now, three voices weaving together in a harmony that raised the hair on my arms.
The forest thinned abruptly, giving way to a rocky slope. At the bottom, a river glinted in the moonlight.
"There!" Mother pointed to a cluster of boulders midstream. "The water will confuse the scent!"
We half-slid, half-fell down the slope, our boots splashing into the icy current. The water reached my waist, numbing my legs instantly. I gasped but kept moving, the roar of the river drowning out all other sounds.
The boulders were slick with algae. Mother hauled herself up first, then reached back for me. As my fingers slipped into hers, another howl sounded—so close I could feel it vibrate in my chest.
I scrambled onto the rock just as the first mastiff burst from the treeline.
It was massive, its fur rippling like liquid shadow, its eyes two smoldering coals. It paced the shore, snarling, before plunging into the water after us.
"Hold on!" Mother yanked something from her belt—a small pouch that reeked of sulfur. She hurled it at the approaching hound.
The pouch exploded in a cloud of sparkling dust. The mastiff yelped, shaking its head violently as the powder stuck to its wet fur. Where the specks landed, tiny lights flared—not fire, but something colder, brighter.
The hound's form began to unravel at the edges, its substance dissipating like smoke in wind.
"Starlight powder," Mother panted. "Only thing that—"
The other two hounds hit the water.
---
We barely made it to the far shore.
The last I saw of the mastiffs, they were swirling in the current, their forms dissolving into nothingness as the starlight powder did its work. But the victory felt hollow as I collapsed on the muddy bank, my lungs burning.
Mother knelt beside me, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "We need to keep moving," she said, but made no effort to rise.
I reached for her hand. It was shaking.
"You're hurt," I said, sitting up sharply.
A dark stain spread across her left sleeve. She tried to pull away, but I caught the fabric and tore it open.
Four parallel gashes ran from elbow to wrist, deep enough to show bone. Shadow-mastiff claws. And shadow-mastiff claws were venomous.
My stomach dropped. "When did this happen?"
"Does it matter?" She tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. "Check my belt. There's a green vial."
I found it, a slender glass tube filled with murky liquid. "This is all you have?"
"It'll buy us time". She downed it in one swallow, her face contorting at the taste. "Now help me up. The Fens are another six miles."
I slung her good arm over my shoulders, ignoring her protests. The sky was lightening to gray in the east.
Dawn was coming.
And so was something worse.