They rode in a line, Lucien at the front, then Zuri, then Zephyrion, their horses picking their way through the undergrowth. They had black linens attached to their noses like a mask. And a brown pouch was saddled to their horses.

The pouch was filled with a paste the herbalist had ground for them back in the village of Thornwell. He had called it Viper’s Banefire. It was made from crushed, withered root, the dried venom sacs of a stone viper, and a pinch of ash from a fire that had been struck by lightning. The smell was sharp like burnt garlic and rust.

When Lucien had first opened the pouch, his eyes had watered for a full minute. The effect on the monster, however, had been immediate. The seven-headed beast, MonoValith, had recoiled as if struck, its massive body twisting away from the village gate, abandoning the half-eaten carcass of a farmer’s ox to flee into the treeline. The Banefire did not harm the creature. It simply made the air around it unbearable, a wall of stench that the monster’s sensitive noses refused to cross.

The part of this Forest they rode had grown quiet. Not the peaceful quiet of morning or the soft stillness of dusk, but the heavy, watchful silence of a place that knew it was being observed.

It has been days since they’ve been tracking MonoValith—weeks since they left Lycanthria.

"I still feel it," Zuri said, breaking the silence. She kept her voice low. Her right hand rested on her right thigh. "The way it moved. All those heads turning at once. Not looking at us. Looking through us."

"You said that last night," Zephyrion said from behind her.

"I know what I said," Zuri replied. "I’m saying it again because I still feel it. There is a difference between seeing a monster and standing twenty feet from one while it decides which head to bite you with."

Zephyrion nodded. "Fair enough." He moved his horse to ride beside her.

Zuri turned her attention to him. "I am glad that powder worked," she said.

"I know what you are thinking."

"What am I thinking?"

"Doubt. I had the same feeling when I saw him. That herbalist looked like he had not slept in a week. I was not sure the mixture would hold."

"It worked better than I expected. He knew his trade." Zuri added.

Zephyrion shook his head. "The real question is how long the effect lasts. The powder will finish, and the scent will fade off eventually."

"At least it got the monster out of the village," Zuri said. "That is what matters. No one else died."

"When next we see MonoValith, let’s kill it once and for all," Zephyrion said.

They rode for another hundred yards in silence. The trees were thinning slightly, allowing patches of sky to appear. A bird called out somewhere to their left. Another bird answered. Then both fell silent.

Zephyrion guided his horse closer to Lucien’s. "You have been quiet. What do you think about all of this?"

Lucien adjusted his grip on the reins. He did not answer immediately. When he did, his voice was flat, as if he were stating a fact he wished were not true.

"I read about the seven-headed monster a long time ago in a book that was locked away in my grandfather’s chest. I thought it was stories. Tales to scare children during winter nights."

"And now?" Zephyrion asked.

"And now I think the book was a warning, not a story." Lucien turned in his saddle to look at both of them. His eyes were tired. "These creatures do not just appear. They do not wake up on their own. Something must have awakened it. And I have a suspicion about what that something is."

Zuri guided her horse to his side, too. She leaned forward. "What? What could have awakened a thing like that?"

Lucien held her gaze. "Each time an ancient spirit awakens in this realm, it opens a door. The scholars in the old libraries called it the Vein of Awakening. A portal, of sorts. Not a physical gate. More like a crack in the foundation of the world. When a spirit of sufficient power returns, that crack widens. And things that were sealed away with that spirit can slip through."

Zephyrion frowned. He was counting backward in his head, thinking of the past few months. "Which spirit has awakened recently? I have not heard of any ancient return. The great wolves are all dead. The old kings are dust."

Zuri snapped her fingers. "The Witch Queen."

Zephyrion looked at her. "What?"

"I heard it in the tavern," Zuri said. She spoke quickly, the words tumbling out. "Three days ago. Before we left, there were these two men. Drunk. They were arguing about the Forsaken Wolves. One of them said the Forsaken had found a vessel. A woman. That she had been crowned Queen in Drakwyne, the other man did not believe him, but the first one swore on his mother’s grave. He said the Witch Queen spirit was back. That the Forsaken had been waiting for her for a hundred years."

Zephyrion raised a hand. "Wait. Slow down. You are jumping across half the realm in one sentence. The Forsaken Wolves found a vessel? For the Witch Queen spirit? And they crowned her in Drakwyne?"

"That is what they said," Zuri replied.

"And you believe two drunk men in a tavern?"

"I believe that the Forsaken have been acting strange for months," Zuri said. "Everyone knows that. They have become more organized. More confident. If they have a great force with real magical power, it would explain a lot."

Lucien nodded slowly. "She is right. The Witch Queen’s presence in the realm must have opened the Vein of Awakening. And the seven-headed monster was one of the creatures sealed with her."

Zephyrion looked between the two of them. He ran a hand through his hair. "Hold on. I need to catch up. You are telling me that the Witch Queen’s return allowed this monster to escape from wherever it was trapped?"

"That is exactly what I am telling you," Lucien said.

Zephyrion exhaled. He looked up at the sky, then back at Lucien. "I have heard of the Witch Queen spirit. Everyone has. But I have never heard of a connection to a seven-headed monster."

"Have you ever heard of the Wanderers?" Lucien asked.

Zephyrion glanced at him. His expression said clearly: Are you really asking me that? He did not need to speak. The look was enough.

"Who doesn’t know about the Wanderers? Have you forgotten back in Aurevulf? Five years ago? You made me listen to you for two hours. You explained their entire history, their hierarchy, their preferred weapons, and the way they mark their territory. A few months ago, you even drew a map of their cells."

Lucien chuckled. "I remember. All of it."

Zuri laughed. "He is pulling your legs, Zeph. You know he does that when he is bored."

"I am not bored. I am making sure he listens." Lucien countered.

"I listened," Zephyrion said. "I remember everything you told me. The Wanderers are the false shifters. They worship the Witch Queen spirit. And they believe she is the true mother of all wolves."

Lucien nodded. "The Forsaken Wolves are the children of the Witch Queen. The darkness they swore their lives to? That was never a general concept. It was her. Her spirit. Her will. So if they have found a vessel for her, if she is walking the realm again in a living body, then the seal on her old domain is broken. The seven-headed monster was her creature. One of her sigils. The old texts describe it as her hunting hound."

Zephyrion’s face hardened as the pieces clicked into place. "So the monster did not escape by accident. It was released."

"That is my belief," Lucien said.

"Then other things could have escaped, too," Zephyrion said. His voice was quiet. "If the seal is broken, we won’t be dealing with just MonoValith."

Lucien nodded. "It is possible. I cannot tell you how many. I cannot tell you which ones. The records from the sealing are incomplete. All I know is that when the Witch Queen was bound, her servants were bound with her. Hundreds of them. Maybe more."

Zuri straightened in her saddle. A small smile crossed her face. It was not a happy smile. It was the look of someone calculating a fee. "If most of those monsters escape, that means more work for us."

"And more money," Zephyrion added.

He whistled. It was a cheerful tune, the sound a man made when he was thinking about a full purse and a warm bed. The contrast with the dark forest around them was almost absurd.

Lucien laughed. "There it is. The true heart of a hunter."

"We do not work for free," Zuri said. "The monster eats a farmer’s livestock, and we get paid. The monster eats a farmer, and we get paid more. If ten monsters escape, we get paid ten times. I am not seeing a problem."

Lucien shook his head. But he was still smiling. "You’ll only get paid if you are hired to destroy those monsters."

They rode on. The ground began to slope downward, and the trees grew thicker again. Vines hung from the branches like wet ropes. The air changed. It became heavier. Damp. And then, slowly, it began to smell wrong.

Lucien noticed it first. He raised his closed fist. Zuri and Zephyrion stopped their horses immediately. The animals shifted uneasily.