Max pressed himself against the foul, rotting planks of the decrepit farmhouse. The odor was nauseating, but the fear inside him overcame any such obstacles. He recognized Alden and Garret, plus another one of their friends. The man behind them he didn't recognize, but he didn't need to. Miranda did.

  The man was actually rather short, about a head's height lower than him. But he was lean and walked with deliberate steps. His muscular arms held a polished, enchanted, recurve bow with an arrow already nocked. Obviously, he had guessed Max and Miranda were nearby; if he didn't already know they were there.

  Miranda jabbed Max in the side, her eyes wide with panic. She mouthed ‘Let's go’ and pointed to the treeline opposite of the hunters. Max shook his head. Fear planted his feet. What if they see us in the clearing as we run?

  “Too open,” he whispered as quietly as he could. Miranda cursed inaudibly but nodded in agreement.

  “I can use magic to try and hide myself; do you think you can sneak out of here?” she whispered back. Lead formed in his stomach. He knew he would have to, but the thought of wading through rot with a proficient archer behind him was no small thing.

  With as much caution as he could, Max risked a glance through one of the broken windows. The hunters were moving slower and quieter. Verick pointed to a patch on the ground and the others nodded. No doubt our footprints. Slowly, they began spreading out, and at any moment, they would be surrounding the house.

  Max turned to Miranda, nodding for her to go. She quickly dropped down behind a dead bush. She pulled one of the stones she had engraved by the river from her belt. She whispered inaudibly, and the rune glowed. Then it sparked and made a noise like dropping grease onto a firepit. Max winced, hoping the hunters hadn't heard it. Miranda flinched from the cracking stone and dropped it to the ground. Max waited for it to explode like she had said it might, but it did not. Instead, it crumbled into dust, and the magic took hold of Miranda.

  It was as if a painter had taken his paints and splashed them on her. Slowly her color all became one as she melted into the background. Camouflage. Max was amazed, so amazed he almost missed his chance to sneak away. Encroaching footsteps brought him back to reality, and he quickly sunk to the ground.

  The grass was still quite long, even with the rot. He quickly crawled into it, hoping to obscure himself the best he could. It’ll have to be enough. Max crawled his way away from the house, making sure to put its frame between him and the hunters. He waded through rotting plants, strange puddles of gooey liquefied biomass, and several corpses of birds and field mice.

  Max’s clothes were already tarnished and covered in ash and mud, so they blended in perfectly with the dead plants. He instinctively kept his body as close to the dirt as possible, remembering his times hunting with Gerald.

  “Don’t look like a human. Blend in, distort your shape the best you can,” the old man would say. I’m trying, okay?

  Squish.

  “Uh, what the—!” The voice of Alden shouted from behind Max. He froze, daring not to move. Movement gets you killed. He was maybe thirty feet from the farmhouse now and could hear their footsteps. Two figures shuffling behind the house. He knew any moment they would see him, and he would grow an arrow in his back. It was pure torture as he lay there squeezing his eyes shut and ignoring the burning in his lungs.

  “Anything?” a strange voice said. The voice sounded like a tragedy. Silky and punctual like a noble, but graveled like someone who had spent their whole life gargling ash. Each word the man spoke sounded painful. “Their tracks lead here; I expect they are either hiding inside or somewhere close by.”

  “Nothing, sir,” Alden said hastily, like he was trying to impress the hunter. “But I have Garret and Simon on the house. If they are in there, we will find them.”

  “I am only slightly convinced they are hiding inside,” Verick said. “More than likely they are…”

  The man stopped mid-sentence. Max’s heart froze as he heard the inexplicable sound of a bowstring being pulled back.

  Thwak!

  The arrow left the bow, and Max was ready for certain death until it buried itself into something else. A heavy thud and the sound of movement to Max’s left almost forced a gasp from his mouth. Did they get Miranda? The heavy footsteps of Alden paced to the hunter's target. Max’s muscles ached from the everlasting tension; he let out small shallow breaths that did almost nothing to satisfy his anxiety. Alden stopped and bent down.

  “Just a mole!” Alden shouted. Relief poured over Max. He had only known Miranda for a day or so, but for some reason, the thought of her cut down terrified him. “Damn, sir, right between the eyes.”

  Alden paced back to the hunter, and together they walked the rest of the perimeter of the house. As soon as Max felt safe to do so, he began crawling again. The closer he got to the treeline, the faster he moved, the more risks he took. As soon as he made it past the first tree, he quickly rolled over and pushed himself against it, letting his breaths come in ragged, heavy bursts. Once his head cleared, he risked a glance into the field, searching for Miranda.

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  He didn't see her, but he did see Verick. The man was now hunched over the spot Miranda and he had parted ways to sneak away. He lifted his hand, letting ash fall from his fingertips. Damn, he found the stone. We have to leave, but where is she? Max panned his gaze along the field but yielded no results. Then, just as he was about to move for another vantage point, he spotted her.

  In the treeline, an old rotted log had fallen, large mushrooms growing on its corpse. Huddled next to it was a nauseating humanoid shape. It was Miranda with her strange camouflage magic. It looked wrong to him, like his brain refused to comprehend what she was trying to accomplish. No doubt it works better on the others.

  Max made his way over to her as quietly as he could. Too quietly. Max was always good with being stealthy and was able to come within inches of Miranda.

  “Miranda,” Max whispered as quietly as he could. She about leapt in the air right there. In one motion she dropped the magic spell and drew her dagger, reaching for his throat. Her eyes were wide. “Whoa, it’s me!”

  Miranda's eyes went from fear to apologetic in an instant. “Oh gods, I'm sorry Max,” she said, catching her breath and stowing her blade. “I lost you almost immediately when you started crawling through the grass. With no magic or anything.”

  “Years of practice,” Max said, nodding. “Now let's go.”

  “Agreed.”

  Together they quietly moved away from the clearing. When they were over a hundred feet away, they picked up into a light jog, then a run. Neither one of them needed convincing that "away" was the destination. They ran like that for another hour before Max stopped to catch his breath.

  “We should move more carefully now,” he said through panting breaths. “If he is after us and as good of a tracker as you say he is, that trail we just made will be like a beacon.”

  “Okay, fair enough,” Miranda said, just as winded as him.

  “We move carefully and away from any game trails,” Max said, pointing towards a thicker bit of woods. “Let's find somewhere secluded to rest, somewhere with a good vantage point.”

  “Okay, lead the way.”

  It took them nearly three hours to finally find a place to rest. By the time they found a large cave, its mouth covered by hanging branches, they were exhausted and starved. Night was settling in as the temperature began to plummet. Max plopped down on the hard surface of the cave floor. From his angle, he could see for a good distance into the woods, but in the dark of night, no one could see them. It'll have to be enough.

  Miranda squatted down on the other end of the cave, picking through the rocks.

  “Looking for something to engrave?” Max asked.

  “Yes, but it's all too flawed,” Miranda responded, finally giving up and sitting across from Max. “As you saw from earlier, if I'm not careful, there can be consequences.”

  “Yeah, but it didn't explode.”

  “This time,” Miranda said like a scolding mentor. “Besides, I am sure he saw the remnants of the failure anyhow. That will guarantee that we were just in the area and give him an edge. He could be plotting a trap for us right now.”

  Max let the conversation die and just nodded his agreement. It sounded too pessimistic, but she was right. They were clumsy; they left a trail. Now Verick was out there, searching and getting closer. And they were just running.

  “Where are we going?”

  “What do you mean?” Miranda asked hesitantly. “We are going east.”

  “I know, to the mountains,” Max said with frustration. “I mean why? I didn't question you earlier because we needed to move. But now, with him so close, it's really dawned on me how bad this is going to get before it ever gets better.”

  Miranda nodded somberly.

  “Miranda… where are we going?” Max asked flatly. He didn't quite trust this woman, but he wanted to. She seemed genuine, and he had a sneaking suspicion that she was just as much a victim of this whole ordeal as him. But he couldn't just flee in a vague direction and hope things worked out. Max needed a solid plan to hold on to.

  “There’s a town. Just under the mountains,” she said reluctantly, fiddling with a small pebble. “I have… a contact there. Someone who can help us.”

  “Help us what?”

  “Well, take down the Conclave, of course,” Miranda said like it was obvious. Max’s surprised expression showed her that it was not obvious. “I mean, how else did you think we were going to get out of this?”

  “I don't know,” Max responded quickly. He hugged his arms, feeling a need to defend himself. “I thought we would alert someone. The royal army, or the paladins of justice.”

  “No offense, Max, but there was a bounty placed on my head by your local lord,” Miranda said, tossing her arms to her side. “No crown will believe us over a lord. And as for the paladins, when was the last time you saw one? Their order is dead, pilfered by corruption and greed.”

  Max turned away and rubbed his temples. She was right about the paladins; no one trusted that they would be of any help to anyone anymore. It had been that way for almost five years now. As for the crown, he didn't know if he quite believed Miranda. Sure, Lord Corwin did essentially put a hit on her head. But the man was a fool, a greedy Lord over Lumber. Then again, I am less than even that. A lowly farmer consorting with witches, or arcanists.

  “Fine, but I am not a soldier,” Max said helplessly. “All I want is to return to my simple life on my farm. How do you expect us to take out a powerful Conclave if all we can do is run?”

  “I don't know yet… okay?” Miranda said before shifting so her eyes locked with Max’s. “That’s why we need help. We move east, to the town under the mountain. And we go from there.”

  Max let out a deep sigh. He wasn't satisfied with her answer, but he feared it was the only one he was going to get. An awkward silence hung between the two for a long moment. Then a groan came from Miranda's stomach.

  “Don't remind me,” Max said lightheartedly, clutching his own stomach.

  “Sorry,” Miranda replied, offering a smile to Max’s olive branch.

  Max stared out into the open night, trying to ignore his hunger. Moonlight filtered through the moving clouds, creating a dancing pattern of light. I wonder if he is out there right now, waiting for us to settle down so he can kill us in our sleep. Max wouldn't be surprised; then again, the forest was always dangerous at night. A smart hunter would settle in and rest, reserve his strength for the next day.

  “Max,” Miranda said sleepily.

  “Yeah?”

  “We need food, or we won't make it to town,” Miranda said before curling up into a ball on the ground. “More than those berries.”

  “I know,” Max responded, closing his eyes for the night. “Tomorrow, we go hunting.”