Page 2 of Fallen Star

More shadows flicker through the trees, and my chest tightens.

Did his knights follow us? Or are there other creatures in these Wandering Wilds, waiting to attack?

But I can’t just stand here.

I have to keep going.

Zoey’s life—and my life—depends on it.

Eventually, panic sets in, squeezing my lungs so tightly that it slows my running.

Did I make a wrong turn somewhere? Am I lost? Am I going to run in circles until another dark angel—or maybe a group of them—finds us andactuallykills us?

I don’t know.

But then, finally, I burst out of the pine grove.

Ahead, stark white birch trees with twisted trunks reach toward the night sky like gnarled fingers ready to grab anyone who passes their way.

I’m about to take off running again, and a deer steps into my path.

It rears back, terror flashing in its eyes, and bolts back into the forest.

Power rushes through me as I stare at the opening where it disappeared.

Apparently, I ooze predatory darkness now. Which is somehow unnerving and comforting at the same time.

Putting it out of my mind, I reach for my magic, calling on the wind to propel me forward as I run, holding Zoey’s unconscious body closer to my chest as I do.

Follow the birch trees until you reach a fallen tree shaped like an arch,the next part of Riven’s instructions plays through my mind.

The forest hums, alive with energy, every step through the snow echoing louder than it should.

Be quiet,I think to myself.Iamair. I can walk on it—create a thin padding between myself and the ground. It’ll take more magic—and thus, more energy—but I can do it. Silently, leaving no tracks.

My steps immediately feel lighter, like I’m floating just above the ground as I run. Almost like I’m flying.

The shadows shift again, darting behind a nearby birch. My heart races as I scan the area, pounding so hard that it makes me dizzy.

Something’s out there.

Not a rabbit. Not a deer.

Something far more dangerous.

I don’t know how I know.

I justdo.

But Zoey doesn’t have time for me to entertain my paranoia. So, I clutch her tighter and push forward, calling on the air to make me light as a feather, and as fast as the wind.

Something scrapes against bark overhead.

I freeze, scanning the twisted branches above me.

The shadows between them are darker than they should be. They’re moving in ways that shadows shouldn’t move.

Or maybe it’s just this realm in general? Maybe the Wandering Wilds are playing tricks on my mind?

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