I was sure I had enough time. The sudden transition caught her by surprise. The next few seconds for Lunish unfolded in slow motion. Looking at her outstretched arms, expecting wings. Smiling faces shifting to looks of horror. Idle, non-distinct chatter, replaced by a monotonous drone of anguish. Outstretched hands reaching for her from the balcony. Glynfir fired a spell in her direction, only to have it sparkle and fade less than halfway between them. Butterflies and nausea rose from the pit of her stomach as she began to fall. The jagged rocks of the hillside raced up from below.

  With no other option, she tried channeling her magic again. Braids fluttering in the wind overhead, the druid focused on the owl’s form and reached desperately for her arcane tether.

  Relief washed over her when she felt the magic respond. With another flash, she was the horned owl once again. Instinctively pivoting her body and rapidly beating her extended wings to combat the descent, the gnome righted her position a hand’s breadth from the sheer rock face. Her tiny owl heart racing, the druid resumed her upward climb.

  Colliding with Bird and Iskvold as she crested the railing, the druid bounced across the mortared stone surface. Owl became gnome partway through the tumble, and Lunish, trembling and out of breath, rolled to a stop against the blackened timber of the shelter wall.

  They were on her in an instant. Segwyn got there first, and she was scooped up before a chorus of cheers and bodies pressed in around her.

  “Why didn’t you tell us you could do it twice?” Glynfir asked, clearly relieved.

  Her head swam.

  “I-I didn’t know I could…put me down or I’m gonna puke!”

  The ranger whisked her away from the outcropping, placing her gently in the grass behind the shelter. The rest gathered nearby, faces etched with concern.

  The druid caught her breath while her world and stomach settled down.

  “I’m okay!” she reassured the others, now seated.

  Bird let out a chuckle purr. “If I had a hat, I would tip it to you!” He lifted an invisible hat from his head, twirling it in her direction with a slight bow.

  “That was incredible!” Whydah agreed, reaching in to hug the gnomish woman. “Did you really not know?”

  Lunish shook her head. “I’ve never tried to use it again so quickly. It was a bit of an ‘all or nothing’ situation. I’m relieved it worked.”

  “So are we!” Tsuta agreed. “It’s good to have you back.”

  “Speaking of which – what did you see?” Segwyn prompted.

  The gnome pulled her knees into a sitting position and drew a deep breath before beginning. “There are a bunch of them – at least twelve, maybe more – and it looks like they’re searching for something.”

  “What makes you say that?” Tsuta probed.

  “They were moving through the forest almost…systematically… in a line.” Her brow furrowed as she reflected on her observation. “And they were constantly looking down. They never noticed me at all.”

  “Were they digging?” Segwyn asked.

  “Not really…but they moved things out of the way to see the ground’s surface. You know, fallen limbs and bushes.” The druid illustrated patterns in the air as she spoke. “They traveled in a line, steadily north up the hillside. I couldn’t understand anything they said, but they weren’t concerned about making noise.”

  “Did you see them casting?” The wizard had his fingers steepled before his face as he listened.

  “Nope. Not at all.”

  “Then whatever they’re looking for isn’t arcane. Using a detection spell would be much more efficient,” he stated matter-of-factly.

  Iskvold stood abruptly, twirling the staff, delivering a sharp strike towards the vacant space on her right. “So, let’s take them out before they find it!”

  “How about right after lunch?” Glynfir suggested, looking hopefully around the group.

  The Shanderiusha Gap was technically more of a pass than a gap. The quarter-mile rocky trail, guarded by sheer, soaring stone on both sides, could be navigated on foot or horseback. Though intimately familiar with its layout from above thanks to their tours of watch duty, even the monks had never ventured into Siremiria before.

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  “It's narrower than I expected,” Tsuta observed, his neck craning as he scanned the mountainsides. The pressing stone cliffs only allowed them to walk two abreast. Segwyn and Lunish took the lead, while he and Bird, followed by Whydah and Iskvold, all preceded Glynfir, acting as the rear guard.

  “That would be a great place for an ambush.” The monk pointed his staff at an outcropping sixty feet up the south face.

  “That’s exactly what it was used for, before the monks built the outposts,” Segwyn called over his shoulder. “The Blades used to watch there until you lot took over the duties.”

  Beyond the Gap, the trail wound several miles through heavily wooded slopes, eventually fading into the more passable foothills between the Glimmerstones and the Kyathlinneas River just north of Irdri.

  An hour over the border, Segwyn called a halt. Crouching down, he closely examined the trail.

  “We’ve got tracks – at least three sets!”

  Returning to his feet, the ranger looked back, estimating the distance to the outpost before addressing Iskvold.

  “I think this is where you saw them crossing.”

  Iskvold mimicked his estimation and agreed, “Looks about right.”

  Lunish considered the wooded incline on their right.

  “They were about half a mile up there.” She pointed. “All on this mountain. I did a fly-by around the area, and didn’t see them anywhere else.”

  “It’s still a pretty big mountain, and that was a couple hours ago,” Bird pointed out. “They could be anywhere by now.”

  Iskvold’s impatience once again bubbled to the surface. “Well, I know where they aren’t! They aren’t on this trail!” The drow stepped towards the roadside brush before Tsuta caught her arm.

  “Hang on, Pinky. We all want justice, but let’s be smart about it.” The monk turned back to Segwyn. “Woodsy, can you tell how many crossed between here and that next bend, to give us an idea of their numbers?”

  Confused, the ranger looked over his shoulder before turning back to Bird. “Is he talking to me?”

  The tabby let out a chuckle-purr. “Yeah, that’s how you know when Tsuta has accepted you – he gives you a nickname. To him, you will now and forever be known as ‘Woodsy.’”

  “Charming,” Segwyn muttered under his breath, delivering an epic eye roll before returning his attention to the patient monk. “That’s a good idea. Give me a minute to have a look.”

  The group watched as he cautiously paced the trail’s edge, eyes riveted to the gravel surface. After scouring the first hundred yards, the ranger took a cursory look at the path beyond before returning.

  “I counted fifteen distinct sets of tracks between here and the bend.”

  “Well, we don’t want to fight them all together,” Whydah cautioned. “You said they were moving up the mountain in a line?” She looked at Lunish.

  The druid nodded.

  “So, why don’t we move up this edge until we find them, and try to pick them off a few at a time? That way, we can also keep them in front of us.”

  “That sounds like as good a plan as any,” Iskvold quickly agreed, eager to get going.

  “I’ve got a spell that will keep us from sounding like a herd of hill giants crashing through the woods. If you guys think it would help?” Lunish offered.

  A murmur of agreement rose from the group as Glynfir teased her. “Look at Lunish! Using her magic to help the team!”

  The gnome felt a slight flush rise in her cheeks as she broke into a grin. “Oh, shut up, Glynnie!”

  The druid reached into her pack, extracting a sprig of spruce and a pinch of ash, pressing both between her palms. With her fingers interlaced, she tapped the tips together, whispering the incantation. They all felt more than heard a dull, low pop against their eardrums as the green effervescence surrounding her form pulsed out in all directions.

  “Just stay within thirty feet of me, and we should be able to sneak right up on them.”

  Maintaining the same formation, the group stepped into the woods, threading their way up the wooded slope as quietly as possible.

  The shadows grew longer as the afternoon wore on. Three times, the ranger called for a halt, his fist raised in the air. Each time, he found his mark on a nearby ruffed grouse. Slightly smaller than a chicken, they would serve as a good base for an evening meal. Twice more, Lunish repeated the spell to keep things quiet. Through it all, not a single demon was spotted.

  The terrain and rising elevation made the travel physically taxing, despite the druid and ranger setting the course. Fatigue and frustration began to take their toll a mile up the mountainside. The former was felt most acutely by Glynfir, the latter by Iskvold.

  “Where are they?” she bristled in a strained whisper. “We’ve got to be more than a mile from the road!”

  Segwyn gazed up at the remaining distance. “There’s at least another mile to the snow line.” Turning to meet her gaze, he shrugged. “They could be above us, or maybe they’ve moved on to another mountain.”

  “I can’t go on much farther,” Glynfir panted. “Can we make camp soon?”

  Whydah added her support. “We’re also losing daylight, and some of us can’t see in the dark.”

  “Okay, okay.” the ranger raised his hands in surrender, “We can get after them again at first light.”

  Glynfir shot Whydah a sidelong glance, his eyes wide, face grinning exaggeratedly. “Tiny hut?” he asked hopefully.

  The halfling laughed. “Tiny hut!”

  Finding a suitable area nearby, the group settled in for a meal of grouse, biscuits, and blueberries before extinguishing the fire and retreating inside Whydah’s magical hut.

  “These boots were a gift from Gond today!” Glynfir announced. “I don’t think I would have made it in my leather shoes.” He nodded in thanks to the tabby.

  Bird returned the nod. “I didn’t want to have to leave you by the side of the trail.”

  “What could they possibly want up here?” Tsuta asked, changing the subject.

  “I’ve been thinking about that too…” Whydah said idly. “Maybe a mine entrance? Were there ever dwarves in these mountains?”

  Iskvold shook her head. “There’s no mention of them this far south in any of the books I’ve read. It’s mostly just orcs and gnolls, and they stick to the foothills. There could be hill giants, I suppose.”

  “Whatever it is, it’s important enough for some heavy-hitting wizards,” Segwyn nodded to Tsuta, “or clerics, to gate in a pack of demons and take out the beacons just to get it.”

  “Not if we can help it,” Iskvold mumbled.

  When the conversation tailed off, Whydah snapped off the lighting inside the hut. After the busy day, they all quickly drifted off.

  Well before dawn, a nearby thump woke the tabby. His yellow eyes, peering into the void of the forest night, met four sets of glowing red eyes. The demons’ claws scraped and rattled against the invisible exterior of the tiny hut.

  “Wake up!” he hissed. “We’ve got company!”

  The Glimmerstone Enigma?

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