Griff spat at the ground. "One idiot goes missing on a shit break, and now you're all scared of ghosts, jumping at shadows!?" His voice carried the edge of too many rough nights barely keeping things together.

The guards exchanged uneasy glances, mumbling among themselves. One had stumbled upon a torn scrap of cloth. Another swore he heard hoofbeats in the dark.

Roddick approached, holding something between grimy fingers. A kobold scale, dry and flaking, but still glossy enough to have been shed just recently.

A grin spread across Griff's face. "Not bad, lad. Your tracking skills aren't hopeless after all," he damned the young guard with faint praise. He clapped Roddick's shoulder, the gesture a rare acknowledgment.

"To the north!" he barked. "No more delays! No more mistakes!"

With the afternoon sun peeking through the trees at their left, he pointed straight ahead, hacking away at the bushes and branches in his way with the sword he'd salvaged from the corpse of Captain Marten.

Finding the scale gave the group the boost they needed, stirring the men to quicken their steps. But in the quiet between their footfalls, Griff's hand drifted to the grip of his old, chipped knife, his thoughts on the hunt ahead.

"Let's put an end to this."

Familiar scents and shrubs sparked a pang of realization in Vikka. They were retracing paths she had already navigated on her way from Mirys' den to the Shy ruins. What surprised her was that the others caught the connection too.

"There's kobold-scent everywhere around here," Nynka whispered, peering between the trees. "But it doesn't smell like any of us."

"I sense a nest close by," said Sidhe, tasting the air with her tongue. "Look at those ferns and mushrooms lining the paths. It's like a garden of edible delights!"

Tibbin scurried ahead, eager to pick out a snack from the woods' bounty. "These even taste like the treats you brought back with you, Vikka! Hey, if we're close to your new kobold friend's cradle, why don't we just hide out with her?"

"No!" Vikka snapped before she could temper herself. Her voice was loud enough to draw even Veyran's notice, prompting the Deepshy to peek out from inside his tent on the deck of the donkey-boat.

The other Shy kept walking, but began glancing back at Vikka, their expressions a mix of curiosity and unease.

Tesska was unrattled. "You said Mirys taught you things. About the woods. About what we can do outside of a hive. Why are you keeping her wisdom to yourself? Won't it help us all?" probed the older kobold.

Vikka hesitated, the weight of their stares heating up her neck scales.

"Tell us," Nynka urged. "What did she teach you?"

Vikka exhaled slowly. "She taught me… that..." she stammered. "…I don't think this is the right time or place…"

"But why don't you want us to meet her?" Sidhe pressed. "Won't it be safer for us at her nest?"

"No," Vikka replied, more softly this time. "Our friends, the Shy… They need us right now. And we won't all fit in Mirys' den. We can reconnect with her once the danger has passed. But not while we're on the run"

Nynka looked ahead. "Are we ever going to stop running, though? We may never get the chance."

Vikka, at a loss, walked away and went to the front of the convoy, avoiding the questioning looks from the Shy as she stepped past them.

Mara adjusted the convoy's route to one that was shorter and straighter, but requiring them to cut through steeper, more difficult terrain. This worked in their favor as the clearing came into view ahead of schedule. Niva and Callan swooped in on their bluejays. Coming in from different angles, the pair tried to stay inconspicuous while surveying the area from above. Initial impressions were positive, with no hostiles in sight. But the problem was, there was nobody else in sight either. No Rhiannon, no Alvon, even the horse was gone.

Garrett crested the low rise, crossbow in hand, gaze sweeping across the vale. Gesturing an all clear, behind him came the others on Gertie, their mounts, and in clusters led by the kobolds.

Approaching the camp, all that remained were cold ashes. Garrett knelt and stirred the charred wood with a stick. "Doesn't look like they spent the night."

"She was supposed to wait," Sylven huffed.

The campsite seemed to have been carefully dismantled. Nothing looked ransacked or trampled. The way the supplies had been covered up told a tale of intention, not panic.

Uiska squeaked, pawing at the edges of the firepit, nose twitching as he started digging around the ashes.

"Leave him be, there's something there," Veyran called down from the boat deck as Sylven moved in to intervene.

The pika overturned a blackened stone and chirped in triumph. A soft light throbbed beneath his discovery.

The familiar glow catching his eye, Veyran wasted no time rappelling down from the deck. He dove into the ashpile, dusting off the pulsing arclith with his sleeve.

Veyran stared intently at the shard as he cradled its edges with his fingers. He raised it to his face, then closed his eyes as he pressed it to his forehead. After several breaths, he opened his eyes to see the others in a circle around him, expecting some clarity.

"It's one of the shards we chipped off from the lode," he confirmed. "Rhiannon tried to leave us a message, but I hadn't managed to teach her exactly how to do that yet. She did remember what I showed her about imprinting thoughts… The best I can pick up is her… intention, but the words are lost."

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"Did she explain why they took off?" Garrett asked.

Veyran shook his head, his brow furrowed. "Only that she wanted me to know that… we should trust her… that she's doing something about the humans hunting us."

Jerrik shook his head. "Of course she did. Because that's what she's used to doing. Making choices for everyone else."

Veyran didn't look at the Sunshy when he replied, "You're selling her too short. She wouldn't act without good reason, and she knows she needs us. This shard's her promise—she's not abandoning us."

Mara stepped forward to stand beside Jerrik. "Why didn't Alvon stay? Or leave a message of his own?"

Sylven shrugged, deciding to give Veyran the benefit of the doubt for now. "Probably thought they'd be back by the time we got here."

With the Shy gathered close to the pika, they finally noticed when Uiska's harness-shard blinked once, then again in an irregular pattern. It wasn't flashing any known Sunshy codes, but it didn't seem to be pulsing randomly either.

"Could it be connected to what Rhiannon did to this shard she left?" Sylven asked.

"Shards draw energy from each other when in proximity," Veyran explained. "But she barely knows the basics of shard signaling. Also, shouldn't Alvon have guided her? This seems like something she did without him knowing."

"If she's trying to draw attention away from us, we shouldn't waste her efforts," Mara nodded at Garret. "We press north."

"You know, I think I noticed that little light blinking on the pika earlier today," Garrett hesitated. He glanced back at Veyran, still kneeling in the ashes with the shard. "The overseer, I mean… Rhiannon leaving the shard, I kind of agree with the pale Shy guy that it means we should continue with our plans?"

Veyran stood and acknowledged the human's support. "She trusted me to find and interpret this. That's not running away. That's a signal."

"I hope you're reading her right," Sylven said. "And she hasn't had another change of heart, thinking that she's better off dealing with the Greyhold guards herself."

Garrett grunted. "So we move? Or stay?"

Jerrik spoke up. "I don't want to decide until we're sure either way. I'm going to track them. Even if Alvon didn't leave us any word here, he'd be sure to leave me a message on the trail."

"You Sunshy go ahead with whatever you believe is best," Veyran sighed as he began climbing back onto the donkey-boat, shard already wrapped in his robe. "I'll see what more I can do with this."

As the group refreshed their supplies from the stores stockpiled in the rest stop, Veyran shut himself in his tent with the arclith lode.

While the Shy were dealing with the aftermath of Rhiannon's actions, the kobolds were mulling over signs of their own, in the form of the scents and scales scattered around the camp.

"Kobolds were here!" Nynka hissed as she confronted Vikka.

"Why did they come to greet the human, but not us, their kin!" Rena honked in dismay, flicking her tongue desperately around the clearing. "I can smell a hatchling! Oh, it's the loveliest scent… Even if I never got to hatch and care for my own, one never forgets the smell of the nest!

"Where did they go, Vikka?" Tesska demanded. "Seems like they wanted to welcome us. Did the human drive them away?"

"I've been trying to reach out to Mirys," Vikka placated them. "But they've gone into hiding. There must be a reason why they came and left. Maybe I should go after them? It looks like the Sunshy are planning to track down the human. I could help."

"There you go wanting to leave us again," Tibbin shook his head. "We're getting tired of waiting for you, then following you around without knowing what's really going on. What happened to the Vikka who brought us together, lifted us up, and got us all working as a team back in the Brood Barn? Are you casting us aside like the other kobolds who're still stuck at Greyhold?"

Vikka's claws dug into her palms. Each question felt like another weight added to her shoulders, another expectation she couldn't meet. The words built up pressure in her chest until it needed to burst free.

"Why should I be the one with all the answers!?" she exploded, frustration lashing out as her tail inadvertently swiped Rena behind her. "If you all want to know about Mirys so badly, why don't you go look for her yourselves? I'm just trying to figure this out like everyone else!"

Panting from her outburst, Vikka looked at the stunned faces of her kin. Their expressions of shock and shame cut deep. She bolted past them towards the riverbank and into the shallows. She turned right and waded upstream, the water drowning out the calls of those rushing after her.

They watched her figure disappear into the rocks and reeds. At the water's edge, the kobolds dithered, unsure about wading deeper into the currents.

Tibbin took a shaky step forward, then another. The cold water shocked his belly scales, then quickly rose to his chest. "Vikka!" he called, but she didn't turn back. When the river lapped at his snout, stinging his nostrils, he finally gave up, heading back towards the shore in frustration.

The others had already retreated. Tesska shook droplets from her claws, and Sidhe wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. Nynka stood dripping and defeated on the muddy bank.

They dried themselves in heavy silence. Finally, Tibbin's voice broke the quiet, smaller and more uncertain than any of them had ever heard it.

"Did we... did we push her too hard?"

Nynka's tail, normally held high, drooped with its tip dragging in the mud.

"I wish she'd realize it would help to share what's been weighing on her," she sighed.

The sound of Ashwind's hooves was muffled by soft loam and moss as they followed Mirys deeper into the Veilwoods. Here, the trees crowded close, branches intertwining overhead, roots snaking over the ill-defined paths.

Alvon hung on to the saddle horn, relishing the view and respite from traversing the terrain. Mirys led the way, slipping between the trees, while Nisik skipped a step behind her, sniffing the air and tapping the earth as if listening for a reply.

Rhiannon whispered at the Shy. "I'm confident Veyran will figure out what they're supposed to do next. You think they'll listen to him?"

Alvon rolled his eyes at the human's self-directed pep talk. "You're betting a lot on his abilities, for both magic and manipulation," he scoffed.

Yet, he had to admit, Rhiannon had forged a closer bond with the Deepshy in the weeks he was in her company, than all of the captive Sunshy had managed through the years.

She'd done her best to attune the shard to Veyran, imbue it with the spark of her intent. Lacking the skill for anything more, she hoped he'd understand what she meant to convey. She'd focused on the feelings of trust, of purpose, taking the chance that they would resonate. With one more shard from the lode remaining, her scheme could still work whether they followed or stayed. But it would be so much easier if they stuck to the original plan and didn't pursue her.

"Will the others go looking for us as soon as they get to the rest stop?" she asked Alvon.

The Shy scratched his chin. "Mara will adjust but do what she thinks is best. Which is to keep everyone safe by heading to the ruins via the least risky route. But… I have a feeling at least one scout may try to track us, whether Mara advises it or not."

"How long before they can catch up?"

"With a mount? They'd be a few hours behind."

"That's enough," Rhiannon sighed. "If you have any means to, try to let them know to just play along… with whatever I do when the time comes."

"Are you just making this up as we go?" Alvon frowned and crossed his arms. "You know, I'm a Sunbrave scout. And we never let our fellow scouts track us blind if we can help it…"

Rhiannon was saved from having to respond when Mirys spoke back to them without breaking her stride or even turning to look.

"We'll follow the next bend in the path. It will bring us closer to the river again. At that point, stay quiet," the kobold warned.

With Nisik having fallen asleep in his father's arms, Alvon had to hurriedly translate for Rhiannon.

"What should we watch out for?" the human asked.

Upon hearing the question, Mirys paused and leaned against a tree trunk, piercing the bark with a claw. "Because something has awakened," she intoned. "And it has begun to question the Veilwoods. It remembers well what happens when humans, Shy and kobolds face each other, perhaps more clearly than even the trees."

Near the ruins, the Greystone River stirred, murkier than usual, thick with silt and swollen from distant rains upstream. On the far bank, dense mist clung to the reeds and mud.

Something beneath the surface caused the water to billow, one swell churning after the other.

The behemoth broke through with a thunderous surge as it breached upward, distorting the currents. Its emergence sent waves crashing against both banks. Froth sluiced off angular scales that sparkled like crystal, while shards pulsed along the sinuous body, embedded across the spine like armor. Its eyes flashed with raw energy, akin to arc-light caught within gemstones.

Despite its long slumber, it moved deliberately, effortlessly, as if in its element.

The arclith golem opened its jaws, secretions dripping from ridged teeth that were neither stone nor bone.

It shot a beam into the woods, then began to float towards the shore.

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