As they went on, the trail became steadily narrower, and was crossed and re-crossed by many other small paths, which were obviously animal trails of various sorts. Their progress became steadily slower, brought on in part by a disturbing watchfulness which seemed to permeate this semi-wilderness. They stopped often to listen, for they could no longer see far ahead. The high bush and winding trails seemed to conspire to hide what lay just around each turn of the path. Deborah found herself starting to feel very claustrophobic. The air had become very stuffy and still, the trail very narrow, as though something unseen was closing in on them.

By the time they drew near to Io’s dwelling, they began to catch a faint whiff of smoke. But it was distinctly a burning smell, not like that of a cooking fire at all. Deborah and Malina looked to Theuli for some clue as to what this might mean, but the sight of the Elf-woman’s stricken look was far worse than anything she might have said.

Stopping abruptly, leading them off the trail and following a narrow animal trail where it ended in a convenient hollow in the midst of a dense thicket, she turned to the others and said, ‘Stay here! Be still and be silent! If I do not return within the hour, begin making your way to the town of Narvi, but stay out of sight of the main road.’ Without waiting for a reply, she withdrew a knife from her boot and began running in a hunter’s crouch, as though speed itself could somehow save Io’s family.




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