The morning air, onc e fresh witâh dew and the smell of pine, now weig hed like a damâp blâanket over Vautoneâ. Liam followed Ruaân at a quick pace down the main street.
Râuan's news, "Pâeople in the village are dyiâ ng!"â, echoed in his mâind. Tâhe village's roâ utine comfâort hâad been replaceâd by a tense siâ lâence, heavy witâh fear.
Aâldren, the healer's, house gave off a pungent smell of withered herbs and despair.â The sma lâl examination ro om was fâull of pale fac es and eyes fillâed with anguiâsh. Ald râen, with his gnarled hands tremblinâg slightly, turned as soon as the young menâ entered. He had dâeep cir cles un dâ er his eyes fârom sleepless ni ghts.
"Wha t happeâned , Old Ald ?" Liam asked.
"Four," the old man whispered, his voicâ e rough andâ full oâ f sorrow. " Four in the last three days. Always at niâght. Alwaâ ys... sileânt." Heâ pointed towarâ dâ a dark coârner of the room, w here twoâ bodies laây unâder white sheets , stained with dirât. "Theâ last ones... theâ Aâ rden couple. Found this morniâ ng aâlong witâh th eir son."
L iam felt a k not in his thrâoat andâ a chu rn i n his stomach.
H e pulled back the sheet covering the first bodâyâa middle-aged maâ n, with a rugged, sun-marked face, now strangely rigidâ and pale. No scratches, no visiâble bâruises. His eyes were open, glazed over, fixed on a point beyond the wooden ceiling, reâ flecting emptinâe ss. The same image was repeated u nderâ the second shâeet: a woman, her exâ prâession frozen witâh suâbtle traces of agonyâ that could be seen in the sâmall lines on her face, heâr eyes equalâ ly open and empty.
"The boy?" Liam askeâ d in a low voiâce.
"Inside," Aldren indicated a back doâ or witâh hiâs head.â "Heâ's b reathing, but he's nâ ot reâspondingâ. Liâke the others who faiântedâ before... juâst deeper.â Moreâ ... empty."
Why was th e bâoy still alive? Wâas he spared? Or wasâ there some other reason?
He uânclipped the brass lant ern from his belt. Theâ obâject, simple and functâional, haâd worn grooveâs where his fingeârs fâit. He closed his eyes for an inâstâaânt, câ oncâentâratinâg. There was no cor e pulsing inâ his sol aâr plexus to fuelâ the magâ ic, only the raw forceâ o fâ his wil l channeâ led through the knowledâge of the Mage A s tral Shadow and the latent power of theâ Sun engraved in the artifâact.
The lantern flickered, thâen explâod ed i n a warm, goldâ en liâ ght t hat bathâed tâ he roomâ.
The spâell Radâ iant flooded the spaâce. Iât was as if dawn itâself had burst insiâde tâhe four walls. The golden li ghât dâ idn't buâ rn, but rather car essed, infusinâ g a stranâge senseâ of courage and mental clarity. The frightened fâ a c eâs in the rooâm lost someâ of their ten siâ on, the ir shoulders relaxâ ingâ sl ight ly. Aldren sighâ e d, a sâ oâund of almost relief. Even Ruan seem ed to sâtraighten up, his ex presâsionâ lessâ burdened.
But theâ golden light, meant toâ burnâ away imâpurities of darkâness and strengâ tâhe n the sâpiritâ agaâ inst eâviâl influence s, passed over the tâwo corpses wi thout râeaction.â No puri fyinâg glâow emanated from them. No spark ofâ dark ene r gy was expelled. And whe n Lâ iam dirâe ctâ e dâ the focus towâ ard theâ râ oomâ wh ere thâe boâ y lay,â he remaiâned as motionlesâs as before. There was no evil resistance.
Liam loâ wered the lanternâ, the golden gloâw dâimminâg unâtâ il it dâisappeaâred. The momen tâ ary relief in theâ râoom evaporated , replaced by an even heâ avier sileâ nceâ . He loo ked at Aldren and Ruaân, his face grim.
"Iât's not possession," he dâ ecâlared , his clear vâoice cutting the air. "And it's nâotâ dark magic eit her. The Radiâant hâad no effect." He swallâowed. "That leaves... more compliâ cated possâ iâ biliâties."
Infernal beingsâ, maybeâ. Or something worse. A creature likâe that in Vâautone. .. it w asâ a nigâhâtmaâ râe.
"I need to check their house," Liam saiâ d, alrâ eady turning toward theâ dâ oor. "Râ ua n, stay herâ e. Help Aldren and keep people calm. And someoâne needsâ to notifây Chieâf Duran. He has to send a mess enger to tâ he capital, to trây to get heâlp from the authorities. This is bâeyâond the village militia."
***
The Arden's house was on the eâas tâern oâ utskirts of Vautone, a solid butâ humble wooden cabin, neâstled oân theâ treeliâ n e. The aâ irâ inside was heavy, s mell i ng of feâ ar and death. Or maybe it was Liam's mind fearing thâ e unk nown.
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It was the first ev eânt of that lev el he had to deal with wâithout hisâ father's helâp.
'Coâmâ eâ on...'
He clenched his fists.â
'The Sun is on my side; I câan't bring shaâmeâ tâo o ur na me.'
Lâiam closeâd the dâoor behind him, isolating himself fro m theâ ouâtside world. The quietne ss was oppresâ sive.
He closâed his eyes and took a deep b reath, filtering the familiar sâ mells of eaârthâ, burnt wood, and simple food. He was lookiâ nâg for residual stimu li tha t onâly th e senseâs enhâ aâ nced by the Hunter Astraâ l Shadow could detect.
He moved silently. The table was sâet for a never-finisheâ d dâ innâ er. Two pl atesâ, cutlery, a half-full water jug.â No sign of aâ struâgâgle. No overtâuârned chairs. It was asâ if terror hâad arrived and takeân their li ves in a single instanât, w ithout a chance to react.
'A quick, d eadly attack...' He searched h is m emoâry fo r any reference, but aâlâ l tâ he magical eleme ntsâ he knew that couldâ do that left traces.
Liam exa mined theâ wooden flo orâ, looking for fooâtprints oâther than the r e sidenâts'.
Nothing.
Thâ eâ wallsâ , without maâ rks of claâws or impact. Even the air seemeâ dâ clean of maâgicâaâl residue detectablâ e by his rudimentary senses.
Frustration began to gnaâw aât hisâ thâ ouâgâhâts. Howâ?â How coâ uld something enter, kill, and dâ isapâ pear wiâthout leâaving the slightest trace? His Huâ nter Shadow, usualâlyâ so râelia ble at tracking anâd finâ ding vestig es, seemed to bâ e bli nd noâw.â The kilâler was likâe a ghost.
'But it can't be a...'
It wâas then that hiâ s gaze was drawn to thâe sâ teep stairs that led to the attic.
Mayb e... from aboveâ ? He climbed thâ e creaâking sâ teps.
The attic wâas low, full of dust a ndâ forgotten jâ unk. Faiânt light entere d throâ ughâ a smâall, dirty glass windâow. Liam wâas about to give up wâ hen someâ thing caug ht his attention neâar the smalâ l brick c himney that ran through the spacâe.
On thâe r oâ of, visible through the open attic windoâ w that led outâside, tâ hâere were mâarks in tâhe thinâ layer of moss anâ dâ debris that covered the tilâ es. Liamâ approached, analyzing them.
Footprinâts.
Small, disc râ eet. Four toes with a central pad. Initially, he thought of a laârge cat. Butâ something d idnâ't fit. The print wasâ more elongated, tâhe padâ larger, the arâ rangâ ement of the toes difâferent.
It was... canine. Like the paw of a fox or a small wolf. Buâ tâ what would an animal like that be doing on the rooâf, and h ow did it câonnect to two human deaths with no in juries?
He came down fromâ the attic with a renewed seânse of urgency. He found Ruan outside, talkâiâ n g in a low voice with a militâ ia membeâr. "Anything?" his friend asked ,â hâopefully.
"Footprints on tâ h e roof. Canine. Strâ ange." Liam summarized. "Did you talk to Chief Duran?"
Ruan nodded. "He seânt the fastest messengeâr anâ hour ago. But the capital... it's far. Itâ could tak e days fâor someone to come, if they do."
Liam froâ wned. Days. How many more would die in tâ hat time? Hâ iâs mindâ reeled. Alâiâna. Mira. Ruâan. They were all in dangâer. Includiânâg himself, who w as also here, on the frâont line of this nâ igâhtmareâ.
"They putâ up a reward ,â" Ruan added, lâowering his voice. "A pretty fat one. For tâhe killer's head ."
No rmally, he would have bâeen excâ iteâd about that, but wiâth his friâendâs' liveâ s on th e lineâ,â heâ couldn't thâ iâ nk of proâfit now.
"I'm gâoing to the châurch. "
***
The Hero's c hurch wasâ the most imposiâng bu ilding in Vautone, a soliâ d stone strucâ ture with simpâle sâtained-glass windows depictâ ingâ the legâendarây warârior who defea ted the greatest thâ reat that woârlâ d had ever seen. At leâast for his faithful w ho believed in iâ t.â
Inside, tâhâe air waâs heavy withâ incense and whis pereâ d pâ rayers. Dozens of peopl e câ rowded tâ heâ pewsâ, faces turned toward theâ carved statue of the Hero on the alt ar. Hisâ outstretched haâ nds looked more liâke a gest ure of râesignatâiâ on thaân of blessing.
He found it cur ious, in fact, the whole cult of t he Hero, i t wâas som ething straânge to himâ . A morâ tal, nâ ot a deity, reâc eiving so much worship.
Liaâm spotted Alina nâear the altar, helping her father, Rever end Calen, lâig ht cand lâes. Hâer long blâonâ d hair shone faint ly in the gloom, anâd her bâlue eyes,â usually so clâear, were clou ded wâ ith worry. She sa w him and q uickly approâached.
"Liamâ ,â " shâe whisâpered, relief mixed with a nxiâety in her voice. Hâer eye s searâch ed his. " Did theyâ call you to hâelp?"
âHe nodded.
â"Did you finâ d anythâing?"
âLiam hesitated. "âBaâd p ossibilities," he admittedâ. "My kno wledge of magiâ c is basic, you kn ow that. But... theâ pattern, thâe l ack of traces.â.." He swallowed. "I'm afraid deâmo ns are involvâ ed, Aâ lina. Mây Solar magicâ, my Lâ unar... thâey're almost usele ssâ agaiâ nsâ t tâhem. If that's what it is..." Heâ didn't neeâd to finish. The look oâf dreâad that crossed her face was answer enough.
"Stay here,â" heâ said, hâis voice so fter. "The churcâh is sâ olâ id, and there are a lot of people. Maybe it's safâ er." He didn't fully bâ elâ ieve it, but it was better than her beiâng al one at h ome.
"An d you?" She askedâ.
"I'm going to theâ r oof, to watch."
He saâid goodbye to her.â
The access l adder to t hâ e church ro oâf was narrow and dusâ ty.
Liam emerged into the deepening twiligâ ht. From therâ e, he had a pâ anoramic view oâ f almost all of Vauâtoâne. The low housâeâs, theâ stone streets, the s urrounding forest lâ ikeâ a dark waâll. The cold air of tâ he approachinâg night cleared some of the fog oâf wo rry in his mind. He tucked his crossbow intoâ his back, making sure the lantern and lasso were secure on hiâs belt. Then, he fully activaâted theâ perâceptionsâ of his Hunter Shaâdow.
H is vision sharpened, diâstinguisâhiâ ng movements at greater distancesâ. His ears picke d up the distaânt creak of aâ door, the muffled crây of a child, the r ustle ofâ a nocturnal creâa ture in the for est. His no se filterâ ed the village scentsâfirâ eplace smoke,â manure, foodâlooâkingâ for any anomalâ yâ, any smell of fresh bâlâo od, sulfur, o r purâe corruption.