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brief time, he turned his senses again to the girl’s scent to recapture it. There was none.
This cannot be
. He directed his powers more fully, taking in all the scents around him. She was not there. It was as if she had disappeared suddenly—almost as if she had died.
Perhaps she had
, he thought, but settled upon the belief that some trickery was at play. He searched his feelings and caught the urge of the Dahlrak still present. She was alive.
    Hearing voices and dogs approaching, he decided to retreat for a time. His quarry had not been his, at least not his ultimate objective. A chase-giver cannot be released from a Charge once given, not even by he who gave the Charge. He would succeed or perish in the effort.
    He would return, for he must.

TWO
    Aiden
    Day 18 of 4 th Dimming 406 A.U.
    IT WAS UNMISTAKABLE. The sound of steel against steel accompanied by swift-footed steps, the rhythm of men locked in battle. Aiden, master of the hold guard, looked up. He locked eyes with Lady Kerr’s through his long, shaggy black bangs and saw her ashen face, a stark contrast against her ebony hair. She had felt it too and the absolute fear on her face was plain to see, not at all the kind, gentle face he had first gazed upon when first coming to Hold Kerr thirteen years ago.
    They stood in the hold’s courtyard, ignoring the night’s rain, and pacing: Moira worried for her daughter who had not returned; Aiden frustrated at being commanded by Lord Kerr to hold his position while Kerr went out beyond the hold’s walls alone, unprotected. Aiden knew Lord Kerr was more capable of defending himself than any of his hold guard, but that did not comfort him. The young man was dedicated to his position and to his lord, a dedication that germinated far from here, on the shores of the Runic Islands when he had seen Lord Kerr perform feats he could not explain, that no one could. He had almost convinced himself it was his imagination after so many years, a memory embellished over time.
    Though difficult to tell from this distance, Aiden even thought he discerned a horse’s heavy canter as part of the confrontation. That was odd in the Western Province, as wood-dwellers could outrun the fastest breeds and they were therefore used as little more than beasts of burden in the West. But other soldiers in the Realm, those of other provinces, all used them. This was not mere sparring he felt: not only would the hour of the night be reason enough to harbor suspicion, second moon having just risen, but the intensity of the sound flowing to the wood-dweller through the forest’s intricately woven root system excused any doubt.
    Aiden went rigid. Orders or not, his first duty was to protect Hold Kerr and above all else, its lord.
    “Order Master Elethol to release the hounds,” Aiden said, referring to the hold’s kennel master. Before waiting for a response from Lady Kerr, the brash young master of the hold guard was gone from her sight. He leaped over the hold walls, heading south toward the sound of the conflict. Aiden resisted drawing his sword, a natural tendency when approaching a hostile situation. Running with a drawn sword made one awkward and slower. He needed all the speed he could muster.
    Before he was one hundred paces past the hold’s walls, it stopped. The swordplay was no longer being reported through the ground. Risking a momentary cease in his sprint, he came to the nearest tree and hastily forced his palm flush against the tree’s bark. Nothing. He tried the next tree, quieting his mind further and listening more intently. Silence, save for the animals, birds, and insects. He did feel a current, however, in the trees; almost an emotion being radiated. He did not have time to ponder this now as precious moments were fleeing from him. He resumed his stride in the general direction of the last-felt oscillations.
    After only a few minutes of running at reckless speeds, Master Aiden arrived on the scene. Thannuel lay perched upon