For the night, the train was going to remain exactly where it was stopped. The engineer wouldn’t begin their reverse trip to the first branch line until morning, allowing a work crew to pass the train to clear the rocks and potentially repair the rails. Assuming they could even make contact with anyone in Erya. Drayce was hoping that if they were being watched, the Empire still thought they were on the train, giving them a good head start. It would be bad if the train were attacked and the innocent engineers were hurt.
But now that he was walking through the thickening forest of the Ordas, the darkness getting heavier with every step away from the train, Drayce was convinced they’d all lost their minds. The gods only knew what lived within the Ordas. It certainly wasn’t people. He’d heard plenty of stories from Ilon and people who lived in eastern Erya of animals who’d come out of the Ordas larger than they had any business being, or animals traveling in packs that were solitary creatures anywhere else. The rules were bent in the Ordas, and Drayce had no interest in seeing exactly how badly.
Drayce’s skin crawled and his stomach churned, but it wasn’t just from being stuck on foot in the Ordas. The whole situation with Caspagir, Uris-Oladul, the Empire, and even Caelan’s mother seemed wrong. Hinky. Bad mojo. There was stuff Caelan wasn’t telling him. Drayce had known the prince long enough to know when something was eating at him, and it didn’t feel like a state secret. Those Caelan came right out and simply said he couldn’t discuss. That didn’t bother him. This was something else, and that was not good.
From the corner of his eye, he swore a shadow moved. Or maybe it was the tree. And not in the wind blowing the branches and leaves moving. This was like it had stretched, reaching out for something he couldn’t quite see in the darkness.
Yep, he was losing his mind, and it was the fault of the Ordas.
“Can you feel it?” Drayce whispered. He wasn’t sure if Caelan could hear him over the crunching of leaves and sticks under their feet. The brush was so damn thick. It felt like they were the only ones to walk this way in centuries. They might be the first humans to ever walk through this area of the Ordas.
“Feel what?” Caelan asked, glancing quickly over his shoulder. Drayce couldn’t see his expression, just the shadow of his head moving.
“The eyes,” Drayce hissed.
“What?” Caelan’s footing slipped, and he grabbed a tree branch to stay upright. Drayce paused, waiting for Caelan to move. They were walking single file with Eno in the lead. He and Caelan were in the middle while Rayne brought up the rear.
“The eyes,” Drayce repeated when Caelan started walking again. “I can feel eyes on us, watching our every movement.”
“Like the Empire?” Caelan spoke a little louder, as if the oppressive darkness of the forest didn’t bother him, but his voice wasn’t anywhere near his normal volume.
Drayce scrunched up his nose as he considered Caelan’s question. “No, I don’t think it’s the Empire. Just…whatever is living in here.” Or maybe the forest itself was watching them. Could the gods be alive in the trees? Their ancient eyes staring while their decaying minds tried to piece together who these intruders were?
“Keep moving,” Rayne directed from behind him. “As soon as we’re farther away from the train, we can use the lanterns we took.”
“I’m more interested in finding a place to camp for the night,” Caelan muttered.
“How could you possibly even think of sleeping in this place?” Drayce gasped.
“Easily. Tent, blanket, and your jacket balled into a pillow,” Caelan playfully listed. “Besides, if you can’t sleep, you can stay up and keep guard.”
“I’m not standing watch by myself!” Drayce argued.
“Hey! Keep it down!” Eno snapped in a rough whisper, making both Caelan and Drayce duck their heads to their shoulders.
Drayce had to physically bite his tongue to keep from shooting a snarky remark at Eno. The man was right. They needed to be quiet and on guard. There was no telling what was watching them out in the darkness, but he was confident that something was following them. He could feel it. Sharp eyes, designed for this kind of unrelenting blackness, stared unblinking, following every movement, waiting for a slipup, a weakness, an opening.
Those eyes would be accompanied by equally sharp fangs and razorlike talons or claws. Out of habit, Drayce lowered one hand to the gun strapped to his hip. The rough, familiar grip soothed some of his jagged nerves. He wasn’t sure if his companions believed him, but he trusted his instincts. They were being watched, followed, hunted.
Farther down the slope, the land flattened out, though they were still weaving back and forth through the thick tree trunks and stepping over fallen branches.