They were here-he had to be right on top of them.

Hkuan'duv heard footfalls on fallen leaves as something approached from the north. It was still a ways off when he tapped his companions awake. He swiftly motioned them into the dense heights of the nearby pines and evergreens, and they climbed and vanished from sight.

He stood watching north, and when he saw as well as heard movement, he backed into the depths of a thick fir, melding against its bark. He pushed up his face wrap until its edge slipped over his nose, and then tilted his head down so his cowl shadowed his eyes.

The stillness of thought is a silence, unheard and unnoticed.

The silence of flesh leaves only shadow, impenetrable and intangible.

This was how Eillean, Leshil's grandmother, had once tried to describe it, as she sat with him one long night in Crijheaiche. So seldom had they crossed paths. And that night, two Greimasg'ah attempted to describe the mysteries of silence and shadow. In the end, they merely chuckled at each other-for who could truly put such into words?

Hkuan'duv loosened his cloak and pulled its folds around himself. He let his mind clear, becoming nothing but an empty vessel filled by what his senses perceived. Sinking into a quiescence of mind, body, and spirit, he let the shadows embrace him.

A stranger walked straight through the spot where his comrades had rested moments ago.

Pale-skinned, even for a human, the man's dark hair was marred by white patches at his temples. His well-tailored cloak was shabby and his boots scuffed, as if he had walked countless leagues. The man stopped and sniffed the air.

He turned a complete circle, wandered the sharply sloped little clearing, and then returned to its center, scenting the air once more. He came so close that his shoulder brushed the branch tips of the fir Hkuan'duv stood within.

The man's eyes glittered softly, his irises nearly colorless.

Without moving, without thought, Hkuan'duv drew air through his nostrils. A stale scent, devoid of human sweat, lingered beneath the odor of the fir.

Welstiel smelled more than one elf-three, maybe four. The scent hung in the small clearing, waxing and waning in the shifting breeze. Yet no matter where he turned, no matter where he looked, he saw no one.

Magiere's venture among the elves might explain their presence. But why would they trail her-or were they following Leesil? Either way, he worried how this might affect his plans. He wanted no one to get between himself and Magiere.

The scent of life waned, diminishing, until he smelled only moss and needles and the salted breeze. He peered about but still saw nothing, and finally turned back north to where Chane and his monks waited.

Welstiel could not hunt something he could not find.

When Hkuan'duv lost sight of the stranger, he clicked his tongue three times, telling his companions to wait. Slipping from the shadows, he followed the stranger's trail. At a glimpse of movement ahead, he slowed, pausing until it disappeared. He followed again in silence, tracking the pale human by sound.

Then he heard grunting and snorting.

Hkuan'duv closed in, one silent step at a time. As the sounds grew closer, he spotted more movement in a clearing just above the beach. He sidled into an aspen, barely making its leaves shiver. Once again, he let shadow take him.

The dark-haired stranger approached another human, tall and younger with red-brown hair. All around them, others moved like half-crouched beasts, snuffling in agitation. They showed some fearful obeisance to the dark-haired man. Their faces were twisted, and their eyes glittered like his. Their tabards and robes were splattered with dark stains.

The tall young one spoke. "Was it Magiere?"

Hkuan'duv closed his eyes, letting their words fill his emptied mind. The strangers spoke Belaskian in low tones, and the younger man's voice never rose above a hoarse rasp.

"No… I do not think so," answered the man with white temples.

"Then what? Who else could possibly be out here? Some Ylladon survivor?"

"Not them," the elder answered. "They would not…"

Someone began savagely sniffing the air, and Hkuan'duv parted his eyelids.

Several of the crouching figures snarled and inched along the slanted forest floor.

"What now?" the dark-haired man asked.

"I do not scent anything," his companion answered. "They grew agitated when you left. It may be nothing more than wildlife."

Hkuan'duv had been detected somehow. What were these robed humans who acted like beasts? He dropped low, bunching his cloak and pulling its folds snugly close. He slipped into the forest as silently as a prowling majay-hi. It took only a few breaths before he was certain no one was pursuing him.

Once clear, he sped up and slipped swiftly through the trees. He whistled softly before entering the clearing, and his comrades dropped from above.

"Who was he?" A'harhk'nis asked. "He did not breathe as we do."

"And so pale…," Kurhkage added, "like the one Most Aged Father accused before the council of elders. This can be no coincidence."

"What did you find?" Danvarfij asked softly.

Hkuan'duv was unsure how much to discuss-as he was uncertain himself. Magiere had been accused of being an undead. Though the council of clan elders had dismissed Most Aged Father's charges, the patriarch's firm belief had never wavered.

Magiere, the monster and undead, had walked freely in the protected realm of the an'Croan. Now others, so similar in coloring and attributes, trailed her.

"An entire group camps some distance behind us," Hkuan'duv finally said. "I counted seven. I believe they are following Magiere as well, but I do not know why."

"How did they come to be here, so close upon her heels?" A'harhk'nis asked, his voice hard. "Did they make any mention of the Ylladon?"

Hkuan'duv shook his head. "The hkomas said their ship was destroyed." "A Pairvanean was also burned," Danvarfij pointed out, "and yet most of our people reached shore."

Hkuan'duv had considered this.

"Should we capture one of them?" Kurhkage suggested. "Perhaps glean more information?"

Hkuan'duv saw hazards in such a pursuit. When finished, they would have to kill the prisoner… thing… to maintain secrecy. He looked at Danvarfij.

She shook her head.

"They know little to nothing of our presence," she said, "and pose no immediate threat to us or to Sgailsheilleache and Osha. But if these pale ones have a claim concerning Magiere, they could be useful later. We cannot leave Sgailsheilleache at odds between our purpose and his guardianship."

"If they posses useful knowledge," A'harhk'nis countered, "we must have it. And if they murdered our ship, they should die."

Hkuan'duv glanced at Kurhkage, who looked silently troubled. It was clear he saw merit in both his companions' arguments. Duty and sense required that Hkuan'duv listen to all worthwhile input, but the final choice was his.

"We will watch and wait," he said. "But now we are monitoring two separate quarry at once… one of which appears to travel by night. We must move farther up into the foothills, ranging lower only as needed to track them. We will need all your skills, A'harhk'nis."

"Of course, Greimasg'ah," he answered.

Hkuan'duv's decision ended all discussion.

Just past dawn, Chap watched Sgaile, Osha, and Wynn pack up the dried fish. Leesil broke camp and then joined Magiere, who was once more peering southward over the fallen tree.

Chap had heard her murmuring in the night. Though Leesil tried to comfort and quiet her, Chap had slipped into her sleep-muddled mind. He tried to bury her dark dreams beneath recollections of hearth and home, of warm nights in the crowded Sea Lion Tavern, where familiar townsfolk filled the common room with chatter and clanking tankards.