|  excerpt  |

Nev kept running blindly. Change direction. This way. His sides heaved in pain. No, this way. He stopped, bent over, and dropped his hands to his knees, gasping. He listened. Silence in the woods now except for a swift-flowing stream nearby. The dog-like animal, the dake, hadn’t followed him.

He removed his boots, tucked them under one arm, and waded barefoot into cold water up to his ankles. If any Malgren had followed his tracks, they’d lose him here. He walked upstream for about a half-hour, wincing as sharp rocks and submerged twigs bit into his feet. When the stream veered south, he climbed the bank, sat, and donned his boots.

Panting, he took a swig of water from the flask. Sweat stung his eyes. The scratch on his arm from the arrow burned like the end of a lit cigarette. Too early for infection.

Poison.

Nev groaned. Shit and hellpots. He had no idea what kind of poison, its effectiveness in small doses— its lethalness. The waning moon had risen higher in the sky, providing more light to guide him. He grunted getting to his feet. He had to reach the portal, which he figured was less than a mile away. He patted his pocket. Willow’s hope lay inside. He wouldn’t fail her.

He laughed. Who do I think I am? Some bloody hero?