Chapter 25. Vows in the Dark

The river stretched before them like a ribbon of polished jet, its surface so perfectly smooth that the twin moons overhead seemed to be mirrored upon it, their pale light shivering only where the slow, steady current tugged insistently eastward. Along the banks, tall pines leaned inward in silent congregation, their needles murmuring tiny breezes of scent—resin and damp earth—whenever a whisper of wind stirred through their branches. But tonight the forest itself seemed poised in solemn quiet, as if holding its breath for whatever would come next.

Airenna’s figure had already melted into the shadows downstream, leading the horse with long, even strides that left only faint hoofprints on the moistened ground. She had not paused to explain her purpose, offering only the spare words, “You need this,” before her dark cloak had vanished into the night, swallowed by the same soft darkness that cloaked the river’s far side. In the hollow she left behind, two figures remained: Lora,