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door.
    Something heavy slammed into the door, shoving it all the way open. The hunter jerked away just in time as a body came crushing into the stone hut. It was a soldier, by the looks of his tattered tunic and sword as he sprawled onto the ground. The kishion knelt and knifed him soundlessly. The figure’s leg twitched once and was still.
    Jon Tayt stepped into the cool night air through the open door, hefting an axe, which he suddenly lifted and hurled. It spun end over end, and the blade struck another soldier in the chest, felling him instantly. Argus snarled and charged into the woods, launching himself at another soldier and bringing him down with a single bound.
    The kishion fled the stone hut next and sent his knife spinning through the air, into another of their pursuers.
    Jon Tayt went to the body of the man he’d killed and drew the axe away, stepping on the man’s leg to free it. Maia blanched, but she steeled herself and followed her protectors, raising the cowl as she went.
    “This way,” the hunter whispered. An arrow lanced by him, the shaft clattering against a nearby boulder or stone hut.
    “Argus, hunt!” Jon Tayt ordered, and he strode up to Maia, grabbed her arm, and pulled her into the deeper shadows of the grove. The boarhound loped into the woods, snarling viciously. There was barking and growling and suddenly a man’s voice shouted in pain.
    Two more soldiers awaited them in the shadows.
    “They are yours,” the hunter said to the kishion, and he changed course, pulling Maia after him. The kishion needed no greater warning to lower his blades and thrust forward, engaging both men at once. As the hunter led Maia away from the scene, she heard a cough of surprise and grunts of pain as the two men strove against the kishion. Maia nearly twisted her ankle on a rock and tried to correct herself. They dodged through trees, heading toward the murmur of a brook somewhere to the right. The darkness was a shield for them.
    A shriek of pain sounded in the night, and moments later, Argus padded up next to them, panting.
    “One less hunter for us to face,” Jon Tayt said with a grim smile in his voice. “They probably have more than one, bad luck. Always best to have two of something if you can afford it. Argus here can take down a bear. You think I am joking. You will see if we meet one.”
    They reached the banks of the small brook, and Jon Tayt guided her to some round stones protruding from the waters and ushered her across. The trees swayed as the whipping wind picked up and began to howl, blowing icy tendrils at them. In a moment, the kishion leaped across the small brook and joined them. “Two more were watching the direction we fled, so I dispatched them as well.”
    The hunter snorted. “There are many trails off this mountain. If we take that one,” he said, pointing, “we will be trapped along the lake. I know of a cave farther down the mountain where we can find shelter, and the village of Roc-Adamour is at the base of the mountain. It is the crossroads in this Hundred. It will be difficult for them to track us if we go there first.”
    “How far?” the kishion asked, searching the trees behind them for signs of pursuers.
    “Before next sunset if we hurry. There are some more supplies I would like to obtain if we are going to travel the mountain ways. There is an inn there called the—”
    Lightning lit up the night sky with a brilliant fork of energy, blinding them all.
    “Not a cloud in the sky, by Cheshu,” Jon Tayt said with surprise, squinting. He stared up at the milky swarm of stars as another jagged line split across the mountain valley. The wind began to rush against them, increasing in pressure and ferocity.
    The kystrel burned against Maia’s skin, and she realized someone had summoned the storm with the power of the Medium. Coldness shot deep into her bones. Lightning struck a tree behind them, blasting it into fire. Argus howled and began barking.
    “Hush!” Jon