Chapter 921: Bad Side

Liam and Asher darted through the forest at a speed that was quick enough to eat distance and measured enough not to make the terrain punish them for arrogance.

The western woods blurred around them in layered greens, grays, and dark browns, branches cutting across their path and old roots twisting beneath patches of damp earth. Liam moved with light, efficient steps, letting momentum carry him over low roots and broken stones without wasting a motion. Asher kept pace several strides to his right, less quiet, more forceful, but not reckless.

Blue flame flickered once beneath his heel to correct his angle over a fallen trunk, then vanished before it could catch on dry bark. Neither of them spoke at first. The countdown had already taken nearly thirty minutes from them, and at the pace Liam had set, the western forest line was finally drawing close.

Above the treeline, Raven flew low with Celia on her back.

She did not cut so high that she became easy to spot from half the forest, nor did she fly so fast that the speed would tear Celia’s grip loose or make her useless before the first anchor. Her dark wings skimmed above the upper branches, body sleek and controlled as she adjusted to gaps in the canopy. Celia rode stiffly but competently enough, one hand gripping a shadow-feathered ridge while the other remained near her weapon. She did not look comfortable. Raven clearly did not care.

Behind them, the hunting party followed at a steadier pace. They could not match Liam and Asher, and no one expected them to. Smoke guided them through scent and trail, keeping them on the same general route while steering them away from ground that carried bad signs, thorn-choked patches, and places where the forest dipped too sharply for a loaded return.

The plan was simple. Liam, Asher, and Celia would move ahead and clear the route of anything that mattered, while the hunters advanced safely enough to reach the western forest line and begin their work without wandering blindly through Eldervale. Even if the distance between the groups grew, Smoke would keep them aligned.

It was efficient enough.

For now.

Asher vaulted over a cluster of exposed roots, landed cleanly, and glanced toward Liam. "I have been wondering something since earlier."

Liam did not slow. "Unfortunate."

"I want an answer."

"That is also unfortunate."

Asher ignored him, which showed more discipline than usual or less patience for Liam’s refusal to cooperate. "How long did it actually take you to come up with that task plan?"

Liam’s eyes remained forward. "What plan?"

"Do not do that."

"Do what?"

"Act like you did not know exactly what I meant." Asher pushed off a rock and cleared a dip in the ground. "The task, the team, the hunting party, the wolf staying with them, Celia joining us. That was too clean. There is no way you made all of that up the moment the academy screen appeared."

Liam cut between two trees, ducked beneath a leaning branch, and only then glanced at him. "You are reading too much into it."

"I am reading what happened."

"I came up with it on the spot."

Asher gave him a look that was half disbelief and half irritation. "Naturally."

"Anyone can do that," Liam said. "Even you, if you have the brain capacity."

Asher’s stride sharpened. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means what it means."

"You saying I do not have the brain capacity to plan like that?"

"I did not say that." Liam stepped onto a raised root, pushed off, and landed without breaking rhythm. "You did. That sounds like your problem."

Asher clicked his tongue and looked forward again. "Annoying corpse."

"Loud hazard."

"I am going to burn one of your shadows someday."

"They would avoid you out of preference."

Asher muttered something under his breath, but he did not keep arguing. Not while they were moving. Not while the forest continued tightening around them and the western line drew nearer with every stride.

Liam let the exchange die.

His mind was already ahead of their feet.

Six hours looked generous until three anchor zones turned it into a lie. Western forest line, northern collapsed road, eastern ravine path. Three different directions, different terrain, unknown distance between points, and confirmed Realm-Touched activity near all of them. Distance alone was not the worst of it. Distance could be measured, crossed, shortened with speed, and punished with discipline. Threats were worse. A pack could stall them. A single armored variant could cost time. Something in the Mauler range, or worse, would force decisions that slowed the route even if they won.

And Liam wanted time left over.

The task mattered. He was not treating it as an excuse to wander. The reward was too useful to lose. A live environmental map, threat-flow readings, and structural hazard indicators could change how the whole year moved through Veyrhold and Eldervale for the next day. Used properly, that information could save lives, shorten clearing routes, expose dangerous movement, and prevent needless losses inside the remaining districts. Failing the task was not acceptable.

But completing it quickly mattered for another reason.

Veyrhold was a problem, but it was not the only one. Eldervale itself still needed to be understood. The guide had limits. The academy observers remained hidden. He still had no reliable way to pinpoint any of them, and that bothered him more than he had admitted aloud. An assessment filled with unseen watchers was still an arena, and Liam disliked moving inside arenas where the walls pretended to be trees.

If this route gave him time outside the settlement, he intended to use it.

First anchor. Hunting split. Northern road. Eastern ravine. Return before the task devoured the day.

’No delays,’ he thought.

A few minutes later, the forest opened enough for Liam to recognize the edge of the western line.

He slowed first, letting speed drain from his steps rather than cutting it abruptly. Asher followed, landing beside him with a low slide of dirt beneath his boots. The trees ahead thinned unevenly, not fully clearing, but shifting into the border region where deeper forest and Veyrhold’s outer territory met. The air carried more animal scent here, layered beneath damp bark, cold soil, and the faint metallic note that seemed to linger in Eldervale places with older Myst saturation.

"Raven," Liam said without raising his voice. "Down."

The shadow beast dropped through a break above the trees moments later, wings folding tight as she descended. She landed with almost no sound, claws pressing into the earth, body lowering enough for Celia to dismount. Celia slid from Raven’s back with controlled stiffness, boots touching the ground as if she was glad to feel anything not made of dark magic beneath her again.

The moment Celia stepped away, Raven shook herself.

It was not a practical movement. It was dramatic, clear, and deeply insulting. Shadow rippled from her feathers and sleek sides as if she were trying to rid herself of an unpleasant smell.

Celia’s mouth tightened. "Charming."

Raven’s eyes narrowed.

Asher laughed once, sharp and pleased. "Your bird-cat hates her."

"Raven has taste," Liam said.

Celia looked between them with visible restraint, then smoothed her expression back into something colder. "If we are finished insulting transport arrangements, should we not locate the anchor?"

Asher rolled his shoulders and looked around the trees. "We should locate something. I was promised Realm-Touched activity, and so far all we have done is run."

"Most people would be relieved they have not been attacked yet," Celia said.

Asher turned toward her.

Celia’s tone had not risen. If anything, it remained cool enough to make the words cut more cleanly. "But I suppose a battle-starved fire addict would find safety disappointing."

For half a second, the forest seemed to pause.

Asher’s expression changed slowly, not into anger exactly, but into something sharper and less amused. "Say that again."

Celia’s eyes narrowed faintly, as if surprised he had responded so bluntly. "I said most people would be relieved."

"No. The other part."

She held his gaze. "You heard me."

Asher stepped closer by half a pace. "Good. Then hear me. If something ugly crawls out of these trees, it will not care that you speak like every sentence passed through a noble etiquette filter. So if I enjoy being ready to crush it before it bites someone weaker, that makes me useful. You, right now, sound like baggage with opinions."

Celia’s composure cracked for the first time in a visible way. Not much. Only a small widening of her eyes, a brief tightening of her fingers, a failure to answer as immediately as she intended. She was not used to courtesy being skipped so completely. Not used to someone throwing rudeness back without hesitation and without any interest in softening it because she was a girl, Crescentian, composed, or polite in shape if not meaning.

Asher did not regret a word.

Liam did not mediate.

Their dislike was irrelevant unless it slowed the task. He let the silence sit for only a moment, enough for Celia to understand that no one here was going to protect her from the consequences of speaking carelessly.