Page 75 of Of Wind and Terror

“I believe so.” Blaze allows the foliage to fall back into place and then straightens. “Runt led me to it.”

The pacon, as if hearing his name, glances over his shoulder and cocks an eyebrow, the eloquent gesture seeming to say, Are you coming?

I, once again, try to run forward.

And I’m, once again, stopped by a huge, annoying elf.

Aleksander keeps his arm around me, pulling me closer to his side. At this point, our bodies are flush together. Every hard ridge of his body presses against my own. In any other circumstance, I might’ve blushed, but I’m too consumed with fear for Treyton to be anything but annoyed.

“We need to go,” I sign in desperation.

Aleksander ignores me and keeps his attention on Blaze. “What do you think happened to Treyton?”

“It doesn’t look like there was a struggle,” Blaze murmurs, frowning. “Aside from the footprints, the Forest seems relatively unchanged. No trampled foliage or imprints on the ground.”

“So he left willingly?”

“Perhaps.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Maybe he got scared?” Blaze sounds as if he doesn’t even believe himself.

“You may hate the guy, and I don’t blame you, but even you can admit that he wouldn’t just take off on his own.” Aleksander’s eyes flick to me nearly imperceptibly.

I wave both my hands to garner their attention. Only when I’m sure they’re focused on me do I sign, “Something must’ve happened to him. We need to find him!”

Terror squeezes my heart in an iron vise, pressing down and causing it to bleed anew.

What could’ve happened to the Spring Prince?

Was it a wraith?

Something else entirely?

Is he hurt?

Dead?

“You need to take deep breaths, little beast.” Blaze is suddenly in front of me, his hands on my shoulders, his chest rising and falling steadily.

I work to mimic his steady breathing. In and out. In and out.

“We’ll find him,” Aleksander assures me, spinning a knife in his hand.

His sharp eyes remain fixed on the trees around us.

Runt releases another yip and presses his nose to the ground once more.

This time, when I move to follow the pacon, Aleksander doesn’t stop me.

“Why do I have a feeling this is going to end in blood, death, and misery?” Aleksander whispers to Blaze, making sure to keep his voice low.

“Because you're a pessimist?” Blaze drawls.

“I prefer to say I’m optimistically unoptimistic,” Aleksander quips.

“Is that even a word?”

---